It was but a few days after The old man said to me, "Joe, boy, she is an angel, And good as angels be.
"For three long months she hunted, And trapped and nursed me too; G.o.d bless you, boy, I believe it, She"s safe along with you."
The sun was slowly sinking, When Maggie, my wife, and I Went riding through the valley, The tear-drops in her eye.
"One year ago to-day, Joe, I saw the mossy grave; We laid him neath the daisies, My Uncle, good and brave."
And comrade, every springtime Is sure to find me there; There is something in the valley That is always fresh and fair.
Our love is always kindled While sitting by the stream, Where two hearts were united In love"s sweet happy dream.
THE BOSTON BURGLAR
I was born in Boston City, a city you all know well, Brought up by honest parents, the truth to you I"ll tell, Brought up by honest parents and raised most tenderly, Till I became a roving man at the age of twenty-three.
My character was taken then, and I was sent to jail.
My friends they found it was in vain to get me out on bail.
The jury found me guilty, the clerk he wrote it down, The judge he pa.s.sed me sentence and I was sent to Charleston town.
You ought to have seen my aged father a-pleading at the bar, Also my dear old mother a-tearing of her hair, Tearing of her old gray locks as the tears came rolling down, Saying, "Son, dear son, what have you done, that you are sent to Charleston town?"
They put me aboard an eastbound train one cold December day, And every station that we pa.s.sed, I"d hear the people say, "There goes a noted burglar, in strong chains he"ll be bound,-- For the doing of some crime or other he is sent to Charleston town."
There is a girl in Boston, she is a girl that I love well, And if I ever gain my liberty, along with her I"ll dwell; And when I regain my liberty, bad company I will shun, Night-walking, gambling, and also drinking rum.
Now, you who have your liberty, pray keep it if you can, And don"t go around the streets at night to break the laws of man; For if you do you"ll surely rue and find yourself like me, A-serving out my twenty-one years in the penitentiary.
SAM Ba.s.s
Sam Ba.s.s was born in Indiana, it was his native home, And at the age of seventeen young Sam began to roam.
Sam first came out to Texas a cowboy for to be,-- A kinder-hearted fellow you seldom ever see.
Sam used to deal in race stock, one called the Denton mare, He matched her in scrub races, and took her to the Fair.
Sam used to coin the money and spent it just as free, He always drank good whiskey wherever he might be.
Sam left the Collin"s ranch in the merry month of May With a herd of Texas cattle the Black Hills for to see, Sold out in Custer City and then got on a spree,-- A harder set of cowboys you seldom ever see.
On their way back to Texas they robbed the U.P. train, And then split up in couples and started out again.
Joe Collins and his partner were overtaken soon, With all their hard-earned money they had to meet their doom.
Sam made it back to Texas all right side up with care; Rode into the town of Denton with all his friends to share.
Sam"s life was short in Texas; three robberies did he do, He robbed all the pa.s.senger, mail, and express cars too.
Sam had four companions--four bold and daring lads-- They were Richardson, Jackson, Joe Collins, and Old Dad; Four more bold and daring cowboys the rangers never knew, They whipped the Texas rangers and ran the boys in blue.
Sam had another companion, called Arkansas for short, Was shot by a Texas ranger by the name of Thomas Floyd; Oh, Tom is a big six-footer and thinks he"s mighty fly, But I can tell you his racket,--he"s a deadbeat on the sly.
Jim Murphy was arrested, and then released on bail; He jumped his bond at Tyler and then took the train for Terrell; But Mayor Jones had posted Jim and that was all a stall, "Twas only a plan to capture Sam before the coming fall.
Sam met his fate at Round Rock, July the twenty-first, They pierced poor Sam with rifle b.a.l.l.s and emptied out his purse.
Poor Sam he is a corpse and six foot under clay, And Jackson"s in the bushes trying to get away.
Jim had borrowed Sam"s good gold and didn"t want to pay, The only shot he saw was to give poor Sam away.
He sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn,-- Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
And so he sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn, Oh, what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
Perhaps he"s got to heaven, there"s none of us can say, But if I"m right in my surmise he"s gone the other way.
Sam Ba.s.s (Mus. Not.)
Sam Ba.s.s was born in In-di-an-a, It was his na-tive home; And at the age of sev-en-teen, Young Sam be-gan to roam. Sam first came out to Tex-as, A cow-boy for to be; A kind-er-heart-ed fel-low You sel-dom ev-er see.
THE ZEBRA DUN
We were camped on the plains at the head of the Cimarron When along came a stranger and stopped to arger some.
He looked so very foolish that we began to look around, We thought he was a greenhorn that had just "scaped from town.
We asked if he had been to breakfast; he hadn"t had a smear, So we opened up the chuck-box and bade him have his share.
He took a cup of coffee and some biscuits and some beans, And then began to talk and tell about foreign kings and queens,--
About the Spanish war and fighting on the seas With guns as big as steers and ramrods big as trees,-- And about old Paul Jones, a mean, fighting son of a gun, Who was the grittiest cuss that ever pulled a gun.
Such an educated feller his thoughts just came in herds, He astonished all them cowboys with them jaw-breaking words.
He just kept on talking till he made the boys all sick, And they began to look around just how to play a trick.
He said he had lost his job upon the Santa Fe And was going across the plains to strike the 7-D.
He didn"t say how come it, some trouble with the boss, But said he"d like to borrow a nice fat saddle hoss.
This tickled all the boys to death, they laughed way down in their sleeves,-- "We will lend you a horse just as fresh and fat as you please."
Shorty grabbed a lariat and roped the Zebra Dun And turned him over to the stranger and waited for the fun.
Old Dunny was a rocky outlaw that had grown so awful wild That he could paw the white out of the moon every jump for a mile.
Old Dunny stood right still,--as if he didn"t know,-- Until he was saddled and ready for to go.
When the stranger hit the saddle, old Dunny quit the earth And traveled right straight up for all that he was worth.
A-pitching and a-squealing, a-having wall-eyed fits, His hind feet perpendicular, his front ones in the bits.