The Cowboy at Work
You may call the cowboy horned and think him hard to tame,
You may heap vile epithets upon his head;
But to know him is to like him, notwithstanding his hard name,
For he will divide with you his beef and bread.
If you see him on his pony as he scampers o'er the plain,
You would think him wild and woolly, to be sure;
But his heart is warm and tender when he sees a friend in need,
Though his education is but to endure.
When the storm breaks in its fury and the lightning's vivid flash
Makes you thank the Lord for shelter and for bed,
Then it is he mounts his pony and away you see him dash,
No protection but the hat upon his head.
Such is life upon a cow ranch, and the half was never told;
But you never find a kinder-hearted set
Than the cattleman at home, be he either young or old,
He's a "daisy from away back," don't forget.
When you fail to find a pony or a cow that's gone a-stray,
Be that cow or pony wild or be it tame,
The cowboy, like the drummer,—and the bed-bug, too, they say,—
Brings him to you, for he gets there just the same.