He used to ride most anything;
Now he seldom will.
He says they cut some caper in the air
Of which he's got his fill.
He is done and quit the business,
Settled down to quiet life,
And he's hunting for some maiden
Who will be his little wife,—
One who will wash and patch his britches
And feed the setting hen,
Milk old Blue and Brindy,
And tend to baby Ben.
Then he'll build a cozy cottage
And furnish it complete,
He'll decorate the walls inside
With pictures new and sweet.
He will leave off riding broncos
And be a different man;
He will do his best to please his wife
In every way he can.
Then together in double harness
They will trot along down the line,
Until death shall call them over
To a bright and sunny clime.
May your joys be then completed
And your sorrows have amend,
Is the fondest wish of the writer,—
Your true and faithful friend.
A group of jolly cowboys, discussing plans at ease,
Says one, "I'll tell you something, boys, if you will listen, please.
I am an old cow-puncher and here I'm dressed in rags,
And I used to be a tough one and take on great big jags.
"But I've got a home, boys, a good one, you all know,
Although I have not seen it since long, long ago.
I'm going back to Dixie once more to see them all;
Yes, I'm going to see my mother when the work's all done this fall.