Image from the Smithsonian American Art Museum
A COWBOY’S THOUGHTS.
They haven’t got much use fur us them high-toned city fellers
Togged out in hifalutin clothes almighty slick and fine
With bokays in their button holes, an’ blossoms on thir smellers
That shows familiarity with somethin wuss than wine
They seem to think the riders from the ranges an’ the ranches
Are sort o cactus weeds among the flowers o the land —
Jest harum-scarum renegates an wilder than Commanches
An’ in a gun perceedin’ allus keen to play a hand.
Aristocrats is good enough I reckon, in their places,
Referrin’ to the wimmen jest the same as to the men
The feminines I will admit are purty in their faces
But haven’t no mo’ muscle than a dominecker hen
Give me the little rancher gals with faces like the roses
An figgers that the Venus ‘d be mighty proud to own
Build solider than three-year-olds from hoofs clar up to noses
With Indy-rubber sinews, an’ a spring in every bone.
I never yet could see the fun in fashionable dancin
Whar men an’ wimmin slide about on unambitious legs
Jest go a potterin around an’ never do no prancin
As if they was afeared the floor was made of brittle eggs
I like the western style whar thar ain’t never any shirkin
My pard a snappy-muscled gal as sensible as sweet
When to the fiddlin’ we git our every joint to workin’
An spank the dust o’ the floor with never-tirin’ feet.
Fur me refined society hain’t got the least attraction
The pinch of a claw-hammer coat ‘d keep me in a fret
An’ I could never glide around with fashionable action
Too easy-goin in its style to even raise a sweat
Give me the jolly country dance whar fun is jest a poppin
Whar boys and gals is full o’ snap, an’ makin pleasure climb
An’ keep it up the hull night long without a thought o stoppin’
Until we hear the ringin o’ the bells at breakfast time.
Thar ain’t no jealousy in me about the city dandy
I wasn’t built to ornament a suit o’ tailor clothes
An’ feed the upper story gals on taffy talk an’ candy
An’ bow an’ smile an’ smirk an’ grin an’ all sich things as those
Give me the free an easy life among the herds o’ cattle
Aboard a lively bronco that is techy to the quirt
An’ I’ve a sort of idee at the closin’ o’ life’s battle
I’ll stand as squar’ a show as if I wore a varnished shirt.
— Denver Post
Nebraska State Journal – Dec 2, 1897