Below you'll find:
Questions
The
Newest
A
list
of poems and songs mentioned in Who Knows?
This is Page 1.
(with the most recent questions)
The index below also links to questions and answers on:
Page
2
Page 3
Page 4
(with the next-most recent questions)
List
of poems mentioned in Who Knows?
alphabetically
by title
Among the found ...
"AARP!"
by Baxter Black
The
Apricot Poodle Bold" by Corky Williams
"The
Ballad of Frisco Kate's" by Harry Noyes Pratt
"The Ballad of William Sycamore" by
Stephen Vincent Benet
"Bear Ropin' Buckaroo S. Omar Barker
"The Belled Coyote" by Robert
"Bob" Fletcher
"Bet at the Bar" by Waddie Mitchell
"The Bible Tells
Me So" by Dale Evans
"Bill Venero" anonymous
"Bill's in Trouble" by James Barton Adams
"The Black Beauty"
by Johnie Schneider
"A
Border Affair/Spanish is the Loving Tongue" by Charles Badger Clark
"The Bra" by Bill Hirschi
"Brands" by Mike Logan
"Bruin Wooin'" by S. Omar Barker"
"California
Joe" John Wallace "Captain Jack" Crawford
"The Canvassing Agent" unanswered
"Cattleman's Prayer" anonymous? unanswered
"Charley
Lee" by Henry Herbert Knibbs
"Charlie and the Calumet Can" by Charley
Hendren
"Code of the Cow Country" by S. Omar Barker
"The Cow-Boy's Dream" by Bruce Kiskaddon
"Cowboy at College" by S. Omar Barker
"Cowboy Prank" anonymous?
"Cowboy
Song" by Charles Causley
"Cowboy Time" by Baxter Black
"The Cowboy's Dance Song" ("The High-Toned
Dance") by James Barton Adams
"The Cowboy's Life" by James Barton Adams (?)
"The Cowboy's Prayer" by Curly Fletcher
"Crossing the Divide"
by J. W. Foley
"Definition of a Cowboy" anonymous
"Desert Pete" anonymous
"Distractions"
by A. W. Erwin
"Don't Eat Oranges" by John Nelson
"Dunder
Defining" by Buck Ramsey
"El Dorado" by Edgar Allen Poe
"Empty
Saddles at Christmas" by S. Omar Barker
"Equus Caballus" by Joel Nelson
"The Guide"
by by Brian Brannon
"The Hanging of Texas Peters" author
unknown unanswered
"The
Hell-Bound Train" traditional
"Hell in Texas" E. U. Cook (?)
"The High-Toned Dance" ("The Cowboy's Dance
Song") by James Barton Adams
"I Must Come Back" by Charles
"Badger" Clark
"I Ride an Old Paint" anonymous
"Maggie" by Wallace McRae
"I'd
Like to be in Texas" by Carl
Copeland & Jack Williams
"It's
a
Matter of Taste" by Lloyd M. Gerber
"Jake the
Rancher" by Bill Jones (?)
"Lasca" by Frank Desprez
"The Last
Longhorn" by John Wesley
"Legacy of the Rodeo Man" by Baxter Black (from
"8 Seconds," the movie about Lane Frost)
"Life Gets Tedious" anonymous?
"Little Breeches" by John Hay
"The Long Horn Speaks" by Bruce Kiskaddon
"The Luck of a Buck" by
S. Omar Barker? unanswered
"Mad Jack's Dog" by Rod McQueary
"The
Maverick" by Red Steagall
"The Men Who
Ride No More" by Joel Nelson
"My
Little Buckaroo" by Jack Scholl
"Montana Waltz" (multiple versions)
"Mustang Gray" traditional
"My Cross Eyed Gal" Long and Gene
Autry?
"Myself & I" by Charles
"Badger" Clark
"Nancy MacIntyre" by Lester Shepard Parker
"Night Rider's Lament" by Mike Burton
"Noonday Sun"
by Kathryn and Byron Jackson
"Ode to
Tofu" by Elizabeth Ebert
"Old Fort Phantom Hill" by
Larry Chittenden
"The Old
Kids Horse" by Harold Sloan (?) partially answered
"One White Foot" anonymous
"Only the Hangman" anonymous (?)
"Out Where the West Begins" by Arthur
Chapman
"The Passing of the Trail" by Charles
"Badger" Clark
"The Pearl of Them All" by Will
Ogilvie
"People Are Funny Critters" by Baxter Black
"The
Perfect Gift" by Baxter Black
"The Piddling Pup" anonymous
"Podner,
Yo're Welcome" Dude Sands (?)
"Powder River, Let'er Buck" Jack Lee (?)
"Pretty Good Dog" and other
poems by Jack DeWerff
"Psalm of Life" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Pullin' Leather"
by S. Omar Barker
"Purt
Near!" / "Pert' Near Perkins" by S. Omar Barker
"The Ride of Paul Venarez" Eben E.
Rexford
"Roll a Rock Down" by Henry Herbert Knibbs
"A Ranger's Ranger" by Gene O'Quinn
"Santy's
Emissions Sticker" by Baxter Black
"Scotty's
Wild Stuff Stoo" by Francis Humphris Brown
"Silver Bells & Golden Spurs"
anonymous
"Silver
Jack" anonymous
"Sleepin' in the Bunkhouse" by Ken
Gardner
"Some Call Him Brave" by S. Omar Barker
"Spanish is the Loving Tongue/A
Border Affair" by Charles Badger Clark
"The
Star-Planters" Arthur
Guiterman
"The Sufferers" ? Roberts
unanswered
"Texas
a Paradise" E. U. Cook (?)
"This God
Forsaken Land" by Kenneth Pruitt
"The Time to Decide" by Bruce Kiskaddon
"Turbulence"
by Murray Hartin
"The Two
Things in Life That I Really Love" by Gary McMahan
"Typical" by Waddie Mitchell
"Watchin'
Em Ride" by S. Omar Barker
"Wealth" by Sam Jackson
"The West, Where Men are Men and Collars are Celluloid"
possible answer
"Wind in the Mountains" unanswered
"Zebra Dun"
anonymous
At-least-half-answered questions
with non-specific topics/titles
"Buckaroo
Bard" Video answered
Buckskin Bow /
Hanky Dean possible
answer
Dying
Cowboy Drifting In and Out of Reality possible
answer
Earliest Texas
Cowboy Poetry -- Judge Lysius Gough answered
Fred
Lambert (1887-1971
Geese Flying
South by E. E. Kirkpatrick
A Humble
Donkey possible
answer
Pecos Higgins
answered
Reincarnation set
to music? answered
Stubby
Pringle/Slim Pickens Christmas movie answered, somewhat
Tonight
Show Cowboy Poets some
answers
Non-specific
topics/titles....mostly from unanswered questions
1921 Ladies
Grand Championship at the Wild West Show in Ogden, Utah
40 miles from
nowhere
After so many
years, they wore down the floor
Airplanes
and broncs
All the
States Rodeo Poem
Amarillo,
"Away down in Texas...."
And a Cyclone Hit My Seat
Where I Was Sat
Arthur
"Slim" Vaughn and the 5-H Ranch Rodeo
Barefoot
Boy Who Drives the Cattle Home
Bear
hunger and chastising wife...
Bill
Simpson
Breakin'
Slack
Broken Down
Cowboy
Bronc That
Wouldn't Bust
Brush that
little tear away ...
A Buckaroo
from the Circle 2
Bullriding
poem ...bull gets stuck in tree
Bunkhouse
roof is leaking ...
Cattle
Drive Lullaby
Cayenne
Pepper Bill
Charles B.
"Keno" Armstrong
Christmas
Stranger possible
answer
Cowboy as artist
Cowboy
Bars: Pickwick, Hitching Post
Cowboy
Christmas poem
Cowboy
Prayer about Final Paycheck
Cowboy Up Cowboy
Down
Cowboy Version
of the Lord's Prayer
Cowyard of
My Heart
Dr. Fred
Bornstedt answered
Forever More
May You Ride
Fort Ransom
Rodeo Poem by Charlie Hunt
Freezing
horse apples and a frozen pard (book)
Gates, many
different ones that are opened, up to the Pearly
Grumblin'
Cowboy Gets Up Early and Comes to See Nature's Beauty
Hard
pan Jake ... When Californy's Dry
He Still Keeps
a Shod Horse
Harriet
Krister, illustrated Badger Clark's work
High
Stepping Critters
Horse Hubby
A Horse
Named "Klaska" (no, they say they aren't lookin' for "Lasca")
It Was Cold
and Damp
Jack McGee of
the Double E
Keith Avery
Poems
The Last
Fight of Cocklebur Bill
Little
Frankie
May you pitch
your tent where the wind won't hit ya...
Mourning
rancher gets hit by lightning
Mouse Colored
Horse
A Mule Shoe of
Solid Gold
My Wyoming
Never Sold My
Saddle
A new-made parson came to Sage....
The Number
10 Washtub
Oh the
Indians an' the Cowboys
Oklahoma...Way
Out Where the West Begins...
Old Brown Dogs
Old Men
Ole Cowpony
One
night when the moon was a flying ghost...
Out on an
Indian Reservation...
Paul
Smith/Schmidt For Tom -- Man from Pine Creek
Early Prescott Rodeo
Photo MOST WANTED!
Ride the Clay
Ridin' down that Jubilee
Trail
Roll Over
Cowboy ... Billy the Kid?
Saddle on
his breast
Saloon fire
act of God
Singing
cowboys' duet
Sorting time
Steer hide
sled
There's a lot
about life as I've lived it
Tie That Binds
Tingle of
the Shingle
The Town of
Loving
Up
What Makes a
Cowboy
When He Put
on that Stetson Hat...
When I Pitch
My Tent at the End of the Trail
Where I Once
Had Cattle I Now Have Sheep
Where's a
Cowgirl gonna ...
Working for
Wages and Living on Beans and Fat
You and I, Just
Once More
Newest
Posted 7/29/08
A new-made
parson came to Sage...
Elsie writes:
I'm looking for an old
cowboy poem that my dad used to recite and it begins like this: "A
new-made parson came to Sage, dressed like a dude divine, with horn-rimmed
specs to give him age, and a frock-coat fittin' fine. Up walked Slim, old
Satan's son....", and this is about as far as I can get. I'm in hopes that
someone has heard of it and can direct me to it.
Have an answer for Elsie? Email
us.
Posted 7/29/08
"Nancy MacIntyre" by Lester Shepard Parker
Lee is looking for copies of
Nancy MacIntyre, a Tale of the Prairies, written in 1911 by
Lester Shepard Parker. You can read the entire illustrated book-length poem
here.
It starts with "Billy's Revery":
No use talking, it's
perplexing,
Everything don't look the same;
Never had these curious feelin's
Till those MacIntyres came.
Quit my plowing long 'fore dinner,
Didn't hitch my team again;
Spent the day with these new neighbors,
Getting 'quainted with the men.
Talk about the prairie roses!
Purtiest flow'rs in all the world,
But they look like weeds for beauty
When I think of that new girl.
Strange, she seems so kind of friendly
When I'm awkward, every way,
And my tongue gets hitched and hobbled,
Everything I try to say!
There's one person, that Jim Johnson,
That there man I can't abide;
He's been milling around near Nancy,—
Durn his dirty, yaller hide!
Never really liked that Johnson;
Now, each time I hear his name,
Feel this state's too thickly settled,—
That is, since that new girl came.
If this making love to women
Went like breaking in a horse,
I might stand some show of winning,
'Cause I've learned that game, of course;
But this moonshine folks call 'courting,'
I ain't never played that part;
I can't keep from talking foolish
When I'm thinking with my heart.
Now, those women that you read of
In these story picture books,
They can't ride in roping distance
Of that girl in style and looks.
They have waists more like an insect,
Corset shaped and double cinched;
Feet just right to make a watch charm,
Small, of course, because they're pinched.
This here Nancy's like God made her,—
She don't wear no saddle girth,
But she's supple as a willow,
And the purtiest thing on earth.
I'm in earnest; let me ask you—
'Cause I want to reason fair—
What durn business has that rope-necked
Johnson sneaking over there?
....
A December 4, 1909 newspaper
column in the New York Times, called "Boston Gossip of Latest Books"
mentioned the book:
Who is going to buy
[poetry]? "Dwellers on the right bank of the Mississippi have bought 5,00
of "Nancy MacIntryle" by Mr. Lester Shepard Parker of Missouri.
Parker, born in 1860, also
wrote at least four musical scores People Will Talk (1900),
Rag-time Rastus, the Whistler (1900); The Fisher Wife's Lullaby (1905), and
Come back to Missouri (1921). He also wrote The state capitol of
Missouri, with a description of its construction, museum, art features,
mural paintings, sculptures, art windows and decorations.
Lee wrote looking for a
particular edition of the book:
I am looking for copies of
Nancy MacIntyre, a Tale of the Prairies by Lester Shepard Parker,
but only those published by Felix Harris of Dallas in the 1950s. That may
seem odd when the book was originally published from 1911 to about 1920.
You see Felix Harris was my grandfather and he was in love with “Nancy,”
with the strong approval of my grandmother, Hallie.
In 1917 as a young lieutenant Felix Harris took a copy of Nancy
MacIntyre to France when he was shipped over as a doughboy. Over the
next two years of war and occupation in Germany he and his entire regiment
read the book and fell in love with “Nancy.” After returning to Dallas and
getting on with life. Felix Harris was only able to pick up additional
copies of the original editions when he stumbled on them in used book
stores, being pre Internet. He was able to recite the entire poem and
always said it should be read aloud.
I am not sure of the circumstances, but in the 1950s he either bought or
reproduced the original plates and published four editions of 500 each of
Nancy MacIntyre, a Tale of the Prairies, giving them to family and
friends around the country and the world. He put a plate inside the front
cover where he wrote the name of the recipient and the date. He was very
excited when he went to see the first Cinerama movie to see a copy of
Nancy MacIntyre on Lowell Thomas’ desk. He died in 1960 in London.
With the advent of the Internet, I have been buying back copies from my
grandfather’s editions of Nancy MacIntyre, giving the first one to
my grandson, signed “From your grandfather and your great-great
grandfather” It is really special to receive another copy in the mail and
know that Felix Harris held the same book over 50 years ago. One book
still had a letter in it signed by him when he sent a book to a lady. I
had one book store quote me $300 for a copy because it was signed by my
grandfather. I told the man that he should know that I am the only person
in the world looking for that book. I passed on that one.
Have information for Lee? Email
us.
Posted 7/29/08
Bear hunter and chastising wife...
Kathy writes:
I am looking for a
particular poem...It's about a cowboy who lives in a cabin with his wife
and one morning sets out to shoot a bear. He has some trials and
tribulations, of course, in hunting the bear but at some point comes eye
to eye with one. At which point, he takes off in a run back to his cabin
and jumps the fence and rushes in the door. The poem ends with him
replying to his chastising wife that "Yeah, but I brought the bear home
alive." Or something to that affect.
Have an answer for Kathy? Email
us.
Updated 3/14/07
Posted 9/5/05
The Star
Planters Answered!
Our Utah friend Allen
Clark
recited "The
Star-Planters" at the 2005 Sevier Valley Roundup. It's a fine old
poem, whose author remains anonymous. Al found the poem in Robbers
Roost Recollections, by Pearl Baker, published by Utah State
University Press. The author tells that her mother had clipped the poem from
the pages of a magazine. In 1996, it was set to music by Margaret
MacArthur and called "Them Stars." She found it in the Ben Gray
Lumpkin Collection of Colorado Folklore at the University of Colorado.
We recently
stumbled on the rightful author: Arthur Guiterman. The poem is included
in his 1921 book, A Ballad-Maker's Pack. Arthur Guiterman (1871-1943) was
the co-founder of the Poetry Society of America, and served as its President
1925-26. He was a prolific and popular writer who also wrote reviews in verse
for Life Magazine.
We've long had a
parody he wrote of Arthur Chapman's
"Out Where the West Begins" posted here.
Our interest in Guiterman was rekindled when we heard top reciter Jerry
"Brooksie" Brooks
(who also recites "The Star-Planters") recite his poem, "Damming
the Missouri" at the 2007 National
Cowboy Poetry Gathering. That poem is included in his 1927 book, Wildwood
Fables. Smoke
Wade
recited another
Guiterman poem at the National
Cowboy Poetry Rodeo in 2006.
Here is the poem as it appears
in A Ballad-Maker's
Pack, followed by the version attributed to "Anonymous":
The Star-Planters
Them stars! Oh, how often I've
laid on the prairie
And watched them go sweeping around,
My bronco a-dozing beside me, and nary
A breeze nor a whisper of sound!
I've learnt the main bunch in the heavenly ranches
There's Jupiter, Venus, and Mars—
Religion? He don't know its primary branches
What ain't been alone with the stars.
Some clusters are branded.— the Dipper, the Lion,
The Eagle, the Sarpent, the Bear
The Horns of the Bull and the Belt of Orion,
And Cassy O' Whats-her-name's Chair;
But most of them's mavericks, roaming the ranges,
Unclaimed in the herds in the sky,
No part of the big panorama that changes,
From winter to summer;— and why?
Well, maybe it's gospel, or maybe he sold me,
But here is the yard that the Priest,
Chitola, who bosses the Navajos told me
The night of the corn-plantin' feast:
When all of the mountains were set in their places
And threaded with cañons and rills,
The star-worlds, the last of the mighty creations
Were laying in heaps on the hills
In masses of silver, of gold and of copper,
All polished and shining and new,
Poured out on the granite like corn from the hopper
Awaiting their place in the Blue.
Now, first came the Bear of the Mountains, who faces
The North, from his cave in the scaurs;
He lifted his paws to the heavenly spaces
And laid out his picture in stars.
Then over the peaks of his western dominions
The Eagle who battles the storm,
Flew up to the heavens with star-dusted pinions
And printed the lines of his form.
And next, that the tribes and the nations might wonder
The Buffalo leaped to the sky;
That shag-headed Bison whose beller is thunder,
Emblazoned his image on high.
But now came the Coyote, so crafty and clever,
A scallywag all the way through,
The yap-throated, critical varmint, who never
Is pleased with what other folks do.
Sez he, "These here stars were intended to brighten
The uttermost reaches of Night,
But you fellers waste them in pictures to heighten
Your glory; and that isn't right!
"Jest watch me!! I'll show you how stars should be
planted"—
He jumped in the glittering piles,
He kicked and he gamboled, he danced and he ranted,
He scattered them millions of miles!
So that's why they glimmer at sixes and sevens,
Stampeded all over the vault
A shame and disgrace to the orderly Heavens;—
It's all that coyote chap's fault.
And still you can hear him, the yelping Coyote,
A-mocking the stars in the dim
Of night on the Barrens, with yammerings throaty,
While they [ital] look reproachful at him.
From A Ballad-Makers Pack by
Arthur Guiterman, 1921
This is the
version that was previously known, and attributed to "Anonymous":
The Star Planters
Them Stars! How often I've laid on the prairie
An' watched 'em go sweepin' around
My bronco a-dozin' beside me an' nary
A breeze nor a whisper of sound!
I've learned the main bunch of the heavenly ranches
There's Jupiter, Venus and Mars
Religion? He don't know its primary branches
What ain't been alone with the stars
Some clusters is branded-- the Dipper, the Lion,
The Eagle, the Sarpint, the Bear
The Horns o' the Bull and the Belt of Orion,
And Cassia O' Whats her-name's Chair
But lots of 'ems mavricks, roamin' the ranges,
Unclaimed by the herds in the sky,
No part of the big panorama that changes,
From Winter to Summer-- and why?
Well, mebbe it's gospel and maybe he sold me
But here's the whole story at least
That Big Chief Citola, the Navajo, told me
The night of the Corn-plantin' feast
When all of the mountains was set in their stations
An' threaded with canyons and rills
The Star worlds, the last of the mighty creations
Was layin' in heaps on the hills
In masses of silver, of gold and of copper,
All polished and shinin' and new,
Poured out on the granite like corn from the hopper
Awaitin' their place in the blue
Now, first come the Bear o' the Mountains, who faces
The North, from his cave in the scours;
He lifted his paws to the Heavenly spaces
An' laid out his picture in stars.
Then over the peaks of the western dominions,
The Eagle who battles the storm,
Flew up to the heavens with star-dusted pinions
An' printed the lines of his form.
An' next, that the tribes an' the nations should wonder
The buffalo leaped into the sky
That shag-headed Bison whose beller is thunder,
Emblazoned his image on high.
But now came the Coyote so crafty and clever,
A scalawag all the way through;
The yap-throated, critical varmint who never
Is pleased with what other folks do.
Says he, "These stars was intended to brighten
The uttermost reaches of Night,
But YOU go and use 'em in pictures to heighten
Your glory; and that isn't right.
Jest WATCH ME! I'll show you how stars should be planted"
An' he jumped in the glitterin' piles,
He kicked and he gamboled, he danced and he rambled
An' he scattered 'em millions of miles!
So that's why they glimmer at sixes and sevens,
Stampeded all over the Vault
A lasting disgrace to the orderly Heavens,
An' it's all that coyote chap's fault.
An' still you can hear him, the yelpin' Coyote,
A-mockin' the stars in the dim
Of night on the Barrens, with yammerings throaty
While they look reproachful at him.
Well, mebbe it's gospel and mebbe he sold me,
But that's the whole story, at least,
That Big Chief Citola, the Navajo, told me,
The night of the corn-plantin' feast.
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 3/16/07
Fred Lambert
(1887-1971)
In March, 2007,
Leone wrote to us:
I met Fred
Lambert two or three times in Cimarron, New Mexico and in 1970 I purchased a
book from him that had 487 pages and was published by Western Heritage Press
in Fort Worth. The pages are 81/2" by 11" and it is full of his
poetry. It is also full of Fred's pen and ink illustrations... Can you tell
me anything about it? Are any other copies available? Does Fred's poetry
have any following in Cowboy Poet circles? It is autographed twice by the
author, one looks like he had put in every book he sold and the other one is
personalized to me. His dad was a pioneer from the middle 1850's in New
Mexico and built and ran the Hotel and bar in Cimarron.
We answered:
You don't
mention the name of the book, but a search of the used book market, for
example: http://used.addall.com/ turns
up several of his books, including these with high values.
Bunkhouse Tales of Wild Horse Charley
Bygone Days of the Old West
As you may know, Fred Lambert's papers are at the University of New Mexico:
http://libxml.unm.edu/oanm/nmu/nmu1mss519bc.html
and there is quite a bit about him here:
http://www.legendsofamerica.com/HC-FredLambert.html
We don't find him included in many of the contemporary anthologies searched,
and his work is not recited frequently, as far as we know. We have a
vague recollection of there being a question of another poet, Griff
Crawford having poetry quite similar to Lambert's verse.
Tim Jobe of Cal
Farley's Boys Ranch has done some research on Lambert, and we'll ask
him.
Tim responded
with the following:
William
Fred Lambert
Fred Lambert was a true westerner. He was born in 1887 in Cimarron, New
Mexico, to Henri and Mary Lambert. Henri Lambert started Lambert's Inn in
Cimarron which later became the St James Hotel. Fred was born in
room #31. Henri had been a personal chef of President Abraham Lincoln. He
built Lambert's Inn in 1872 and it became a notorious place during the
heyday of the Old West.
At the age of 16, Fred Lambert was sworn in as a Territorial Marshall from
New Mexico. He served as a law officer his entire life, in many
capacities. He was also an active rancher and was chiefly responsible
for the restoration of many historic landmarks in and around Cimarron. He
was also an accomplished writer and artist. He published two books of
poems and pen and ink drawings. The first was titled Wild Hoss
Charley, Bunkhouse Tales. It was published in 1931 by Lambert
& Brown, Cimarron, New Mexico and illustrated by the author. This is a
paperback book and is hard to find today. The Lambert Collection was left to
the University of New Mexico. I called them to try to get more
information about this book but they had no record that it exists. However,
they do have his second book published in 1948. It is titled Bygone
Days of The Old West
He contributed
to other books but these are the only two I have found that contain his
poetry. Both books are pretty hard to find in a first edition.
Bygone Days was republished and released in 1970 and that
edition is not quite so hard to find. I have yet to find in any of the
biographies about Fred Lambert, any mention of the Wild Hoss Charley
book. Fred Lambert died in 1971.
From what I have been able to uncover, Some of the poems that are in Fred
Lamberts two books were written by other people. He published his
first book "Wild Hoss Charley Bunkhouse Tales in 1931. It
is a paperback and has several Wild Hoss Charlie poems in it. These
same poems are also in an earlier book published by Griff Crawford. One of
the other poems in this book is "Jog On Jehosaphat." That poem is
in a catalog of songs belonging to the Library at York, Nebraska. It was
copyrighted to Griff Crawford. However, in Lambert's first book he states
that it is one of his earlier writings and has been published in several
newspapers without his permission. All of the poems in this book are
reprinted in Lambert's second book, Bygone Days of the Old West
along with a lot of other poems. This book, in the Acknowledgements, thanks,
among other people, Griff Crawford for interest and co-operation in making
the book possible. There are 151 poems in this second book.
One is titled "Annie Lowery On The Guard." This is actually the
poem "A Bad Half Hour,"
written by Badger Clark.
I do not recognize any of the other poems in the book as being anything I
have seen published elsewhere.
Robert
Dougless of Cal Farley's Boys Ranch recited "Horse Sense," one of
the Wild Hoss Charley poems at the Elko Gathering in 2006.
Have something to add?
Email us.
updated 3/16/07
more 11/28/06
new 10/27/04
Bullriding
Poem: Bull Stuck in Tree / One Day as I Rode Out ...
Tim Jobe points out that the
first item below was about the same poem mentioned in a 2004 entry. We've
combined the two below.
Tim wrote, "I heard Glenn
Ohrlin sing this song once at Elko but I don’t know the name or the
author." We're following up on that.
In November, 2006, Barbara wrote:
I'd like to find the words to
one poem--I think it's an old poem but I don't know who recited it. It tells
of a guy who got chased one day by a big bull, and the bull's horns got stuck
in a tree. The guy says "Here's my chance to ride that bull"
so he puts a rope around it and climbs on board. Then he takes the
bull's horns out of the tree and away they go, "past Jupiter and around
Mars, gosh they saw a lot of stars."
In October, 2004, Jana wrote:
I
was going through my mother's things, she was born in 1905 and lived from
Kansas, Colorado, Texas, New Mexico and Arizona back to Texas, then
California, always involved with horses and I believe this is her handwriting.
However, my father was the poet in the family, so she may have copied it...
The words I found, as best I could read them:
One day as I rode out upon the
high and rolling range,
I met a likely looking brute, whose countenance was
strange.
He was a long eyed three year old, this handsome roving bull.
He had no writing on his hide and both his ears were
full.
No passport on his wall, I thought, no claim to any home,
He'll have to stay out here alone, and roam, and roam
and roam.
When winter comes and this here range is buried deep in snow,
There'll be no ranch for him to claim, no place for
him to go.
The sight of that poor Maverick bull out there upon the green,
Went straight to my tobacco heart and pierced the
nicotine.
I'll lay him gently down, I said, and upon his hairy hide,
I'll write the full direction of a place he can
reside.
We were drifting right along as this ran through my head,
And must have gone a mile or two before it all was
said.
I lent a loop around his hump and twined him 'round the toes,
Then we headed north to visit friends among the
Eskimos.
That bull turned over twenty times before he hit the ground,
I felt the saddle riggin' go, it busted clear around.
With saddle gone and also me, my measly old cayouse
Just naturally concluded that I'd meant to turn him
loose.
He done some tall old runnin' then across those barren flats,
And left me with that spike horned bull, just a
reachin' for my slats.
About a hundred yards from there, I saw the nicest tree,
whose branches reached far up and just seemed to
beckon me.
The bull, he must have spied it too, or else he read my mind,
for he followed me all the way, about one-inch
behind.
They say that cowboys legs are stiff, they can't get up much speed,
But that's a myth like more that's said of this bow
legged breed.
I have no record of the time, but I'll wager a new hat,
From where we started to that tree, was made in
nothin' flat.
I hooked an arm around a limb and swung up toward the sky
A thinkin' that that bull, of course, would just keep
on goin' by.
But the speed had made him dizzy and blurred his eyes up too,
For he hit that tree right center and both his horns
went through.
I quickly grabbed a likely club and clinched those horns to stay,
While I went for my branding iron back where my
saddle lay.
I built a fire inside the tree and got the iron red hot
Then on his hide I drew a trail back to my feeding
lot.
A bright idea occurred just then, I'll ride this bull, I said,
Until I find my horse again to take his place
instead.
I threw my hull upon his back while he romped upon my corns,
I drew the cinches up real tight and then unclenched
his horns.
I stepped up in the stirrup and threw him in reverse,
He quickly pulled his antlers free and left the
universe.
We played around with Jupiter and took a squint at Mars
And passed a dozen comets that were racing through
the stars.
I saw more real astronomy on top of that 'er' bull,
Than I ever thought existed in a sky I knew was full.
I enjoyed the brilliant scenery most of which was new,
Until that sudden eclipse came and blotted out the
view.
I think I'll be alright inside a month or two,
And hope to get my saddle then, if that old bull is
thru.
--
Jana says "I await the
wonders of the internet!"
Have an answer? Email
us.
new 12/27/06
Mourning rancher
gets hit by lightning
Marc is looking for a poem he
heard in Dillon, Montana, in the past few years. He writes, "It has to
do with an old rancher whose wife had died. He then decided to do himself in
and went out on his horse on a hill and was struck by lightning."
Have an answer for Marc? Email
us.
new 12/27/06
After so many
years, they wore down the floor ...
We don't like to perpetuate what
may be an internet gag, but we've received so many requests for this quiz that
concerns what people say they think is a cowboy poem or song, that we'll
include the gist of the requests here, and maybe someone can get to the bottom
of it all. Many people have sent information like this:
After so many years, they wore
down the floor,
Put in a new one in and scuffed it some more.
You swing me, I swing you, We drive on down the avenue.
We're almost where we want to go.
It sound a lot like the word, casino.
No poker and no roulette,
You can't come here to gamble or bet.
Now don't stop and begin to flaunt -- Name this bar and restaurant.
Have an answer ? Email
us.
new 12/27/06
Only the Hangman
Olaf wrote that "many moons
ago my former wife used to sing a song to me" and that he'd been looking
for the answer for 40 years. He said that it started with:
There's gold in the mountains
Gold in the valleys
Gold in the rivers
And gold in the sea
She gave me a shotgun/ sixgun
Said there's gold in the mountains
We found more than one similar
song, including "Only the Heartaches" and "Only the
Hangman," which is referenced here,
with lyrics, commentaries, and a note that it is sung to the tune of
"Streets of Laredo."
Rex Allen sang "Only the
Hangman" on his Sings and Tells Tales recording (see the Rex Allen
museum site here).
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 12/27/06
Jake
the Rancher
We get many requests asking for
the poem "Jake the Rancher," about a rancher's prayer that is heard,
but since his voice is not recognized, the answer to his prayer (to start his
truck) is given to someone else in North Dakota.
It is posted in many places on the
internet, including: http://www.cowboyfun.com/jake/,
where it is attributed to Bill Jones.
Have something to add? Email
us.
updated
3/17/06
updated 1/8/06
new 11/28/06
Boots
Ain't Made to Walk ... S. Omar Barker poem, "Pullin'
Leather"
Answered!
Pat was looking for an S.
Omar Barker
poem that he read "in one of the old western
pulp magazines in the 30's." He remembered part of it:
I've done my share of braggin' when it come my turn to spiel,
As we all set a'talkin' round the ole chuckwagon wheel.
I've told about the bad ones that I've cure of sneeze and snort
And never pulled no leather, as a peeler hadn't ort.
But when a fellers 40 miles from nowhere and his horse lets in to buck a
spell,
Well, there's ways of hanging on that's hard on a buckrooster's pride.
But boots ain't made to walk in, so you kinda got to ride!
That's when you grab that biscuit, like you growed up on a farm
And you'll shore dehorn that saddle, or you'll throw away an arm.
'Cause everybody knows that boots ain't made to walk,
And most of us is grateful that a horse ain't fixed to talk.
Tim Jobe of Cal
Farley's Boys' Ranch knew the poem: "Pullin' Leather" by S.
Omar Barker. Thanks also to Karen Ross, who sent the
same information.
Pullin' Leather
I've done my share of braggin' when it come
my turn to spiel,
And rode some salty broncos at the ol' chuckwagon wheel.
I've told about the buckers that I've cured of snuff and snort,
And never pulled no leather, like a peeler hadn't ort.
From colts just off the gramma to the outlaws of the shows,
I've set up there and scratched 'em all the way from flank to nose.
I claim to be a rider that no man has ever saw
Reach out to grab the button when my seat's too far from taw.
But when a feller's ridin' forty miles from hell-and-gone,
And his hoss lets in to buck a spell, there's ways of stayin' on
That ain't considered proper to a buckarooster's pride—
But boots ain't made to walk in—so
you've kinder got to ride.
This pitchin's took you by surprise, way out there all alone,
And cactus beds around you make your innards fairly groan.
So you've got to keep astraddle and you aim to stay on top,
Even when you know you're slippin' and you hear your shirt-tail pop.
Your Stetson's gone a-sailin' and you'll foller purty quick
Unless you clamp to somethin' that will sorter help you stick.
That's when you grab the biskit like you'd growed up on a farm.
You'll sure dehorn that saddle or you'll throw away an arm!
There ain't no grandstand watchin', so you sure would be a fool
To let that pony throw you for the sake of any rule!
I've done my share of braggin', and it sure can't be denied
That no "man" ever seen me pullin' leather on a ride;
But forty miles from nowheres—well,
a cowboy hates to walk,
And most of us is thankful that a hoss ain't fixed to talk!
© S. Omar Barker, reprinted with the permission
of the estate of S. Omar Barker, further reproduction without explicit
permission is prohibited.
from
Songs of the Saddlemen, 1954
The poem appears in Barker's 1954 book, Songs
of the Saddlemen, and was published also in 1939 in Western Stories
magazine.
See our feature about S. Omar Barker here.
(Another master, Bruce Kiskaddon,
also has a poem called "Pullin' Leather,"
which is included in his 1947 book, Rhymes of the Ranges and
Other Poems.)
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 11/28/06
He Still Keeps a Shod
Horse
Kim writes:
A few years
ago I heard a song/poem on a radio station out of Arkansas or Oklahoma, and
I've been looking for it ever since. It was about an old cowboy, and I
remember it had the lyrics "But he still keeps a shod horse handy,
though it's been years since he rode", or something pretty close to
that. I know it was a male singer, maybe Michael Martin Murphey or Red
Steagall. I'd love to find a copy for my dad, because it reminded me so much
of him.
Have an answer for Kim? Email
us.
new 11/03/06
"Code of
Cow Country"
Answered
Larry wrote looking for a
poem that hung in his grandmother's house in San Saba, Texas. He
wrote, "I do not know the name but still remember, 'It don't take
a lot of laws to keep the ranchland straight...'"
The poem is S.
Omar Barker's Code of the Cow
Country:
Code Of
The Cow Country
It don't take such a lot
of laws
To keep the rangeland straight,
Nor books to write 'em in, because
There's only six or eight.
The first one is the welcome sign—
True brand of western hearts:
"My camp is yours an' yours is mine,"
In all cow country parts.
Treat with respect all womankind,
Same as you would your sister.
Take care of neighbors' strays you find,
And don't call cowboys "mister."
Shut pasture gates when passin' through;
An' takin' all in all,
Be just as rough as pleases you,
But never mean nor small.
Talk straight, shoot straight, and never break
Your word to man nor boss.
Plumb always kill a rattlesnake.
Don't ride a sorebacked hoss.
It don't take law nor pedigree
To live the best you can!
These few is all it takes to be
A cowboy—and a man!
© S. Omar Barker, reprinted with the permission
of the estate of S. Omar Barker, further reproduction without explicit
permission is prohibited.
The poem was published in S. Omar Barker's 1954 book, Songs
of the Saddlemen, and later collections.
Our continued thanks to
the estate of S. Omar Barker for the permission granted to
CowboyPoetry.com to post Barker's work. Much of his work is still
protected by copyright, and permission should be obtained for its use in
print or on the web.
See the poem and much
more about S. Omar Barker—including the interesting story behind the
often-recited
"Jack Potter's' Courtin'"'—in our feature
here.
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 11/06/06
"Bill's
in
Trouble"
Answered
Jane writes: There's an
old poem in the form of a letter with a twist about..."
Rather than spoil the
"twist," here it is:
Bill's in
Trouble
I've got a letter, parson,
from my son away out West,
An' my ol' heart is heavy as an anvil in my breast,
To think the boy whose future I had once so proudly planned
Should wander from the path of right an' come to such an end!
I told him when he left his home, not three short years ago,
He'd find himself a plowin' in a mighty crooked row—
He'd miss his father's counsel, an' his mother's prayers, too;
But he said the farm was hateful, an' he guessed he'd have to go.
I know thar's big temptation for a youngster in the West,
But I believed our Billy had the courage to resist,
An' when he left I warned him o' the ever waitin' snares
That lie like hidden sarpints in life's pathway everywheres.
But Bill he promised faithful to be keerful, an' allowed
He'd build a reputation that'd make us mighty proud;
But it seems as how my counsel sort o' faded from his mind,
An' now the boy's in trouble o' the very wustest kind!
His letters came so seldom that I somehow sort o' knowed
That Billy was a trampling on a mighty rocky road,
But never once imagined he would bow my head in shame,
An' in the dust'd waller his ol' daddy's honored name.
He writes from out in Denver, an' the story's mighty short;
I just can't tell his mother, it'll crush her poor ol' heart!
An' so I reckoned, parson, you might break the news to her—
Bill's in the legislatur', but he doesn't say what fur.
by James Barton Adams from his
1899 book, Breezy Western Verse
James Barton
Adams
(1843-1918)
did some ranch work in New Mexico in the 1880s, later became a newspaper
columnist, and wrote poems still recited (and put to music) today.
The editor's introduction to a 1968 publication of the
Socorro County (New Mexico) Historical Society, "Some Letters and Writings
of James Barton Adams" comments:
The letters of James Barton Adams (alias Jim Carlin) are
here published for the first time...For several years he lived and
worked in the rugged San Andres mountains of central New Mexico on a
ranch owned by Captain Jack Crawford,
famous Indian Scout and Poet. The land was harsh, the climate equal in
its intensity and variety to the harshness of the land, and human
companionship was only an occasional experience. Adams, educated and
having an unusual way with words, was able to capture in his letters the
spirit of this one small segment of the American Frontier.
A biographical sketch adds:
Adams was employed by Capt. Jack Crawford at his
Dripping Springs, N. M. ranch from 1890-1892, and for reason or reasons
unknown used an alias during this time. He chose to be called James
"Jim" Carlin, and it is doubted that it was a pen name. Many of his
poems were probably drawn from his life and experiences during this
period in New Mexico. Adams wrote the foreword to Capt. Jack's book
Whar the Hand O' God is Seen, published in 1913.
A biography in The Mecca, February 3, 1900, tells that
Adams was born in Ohio and moved with his family to Iowa, "...when that
state was 'way out West.' He enlisted at the first call for troops in
1861." The Socorro County biographical sketch tells that at age 75,
during World War I, he volunteered his telegraphic services and "was
probably the oldest telegraph operator working the key in the U. S...."
Adams became a newspaper columnist, and wrote poems still
recited (and put to music) today. Read some of his other works, including
A
Cowboy Toast, The Cowboy's Dance Song" ("The High-Toned
Dance"), and
A
Song of the Range here at the BAR-D.
Read more about James Barton Adams' in 1918
obituaries from The Denver Post
and Denver Times, along with "Bill's in Trouble,"
here. (Read more about Captain Jack
Crawford here.)
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 10/26/06
And a Cyclone
Hit the Seat Where I Was Sat...
Walt writes: I'm
looking for a poem I heard from a school mate about 1958-59. It was so long
ago that I remember very little of the poem, just the general idea and a
couple of phrases that have stuck with me all my life.
It's a long funny story about riding a wild bronco; probably has a title
related to the horse's name.
I specifically remember:
He picked me up
He threw me down
He nearly knocked me into town
. . .
And a cyclone hit the seat where I was sat
Many times over the years, I have thought of a cyclone hitting my seat
whenever life throws me an obstacle.
Have an answer for Walt? Email
us.
new 10/25/06
One Night When
the Moon Was a Flying Ghost...
Lynn writes: I was wondering if
you would have any information on the following verse. My Grandfather used
to recite it to my Mom and her sisters when they were younger. Both my
cousin and I have tried internet sites and libraries but have had no luck in
finding the title or the complete poem. (It may even be a song):
One night when the moon was a flying ghost
One night when the wind was high
Over the mountain, past painted post
A man came riding by.
Only the grey owl saw him pass
Only the grey wolf heard
The coyote howled, the night birds cried,
The man spoke never a word.
Have an answer for Lynn? Email
us.
new 10/3/06
Cattle Drive Lullaby
Sally writes:
When I was a child, my father
sometimes sang me to sleep with an old cowboy song used on cattle
drives. All I remember is the chorus (mind you, this memory is several
decades past):
Wake up, slake up, Jacob.
Git up and blow your horn.
We ain't got long to stay here.
We ain't got long 'til morn.
One verse began, "Oh, it's up in the morning and..."
I'd love to hear it again -- or at least read all the words.
We told Sally that there is an
old folksong reference here
to the "Old Canny Miner Lad:
It's up in the morning and out
afore dawn
Wi' your moleskin breeks and your pitboots on
And the sleep in your eyes from the night just gone
He's a fine lad, a canny lad, the miner
and there are other songs that
are takeoffs from that song, including an army ballad.
Have an answer for Sally? Email
us.
new 10/3/06
Bovine Flatulence
and People Eating Soy
Answered!
RG is looking for:
a poem or
song "about cow gas and folks eating soy." He tells us it was
"aired on KBFS in Belle Fourche, SD, on a Saturday morning radio show
and was more of a song. The bottom line had something to do with what the
world would think of the cows when they got everyone weened off beef and
eating beans."
Texas poet Linda Kirkpatrick
knew the answer right away.
South Dakota poet Elizabeth
Ebert
wrote "Ode to Tofu," and it is included in her book, Crazy
Quilt:
The poem was put to music in a collaboration
with Curly
Musgrave
on his Cowboy
True CD.
Elizabeth Ebert kindly gave us permission to post the poem:
Ode to Tofu
The gentle cows upon our
plains
Who feed upon the grass,
And then, in turn, expel methane
In manner somewhat crass,
Are being blamed for making
Our atmosphere less dense.
They say someday we'll die because
Of bovine flatulence.
Does the answer lie in
planting
Our range lands all to soy?
If we abstain from eating beef
Will life be filled with joy?
Let's not accept this premise
'Til we check behind the scenes,
Just how much gas will people pass
When they're only eating beans?
© 1997, Elizabeth Ebert, and
included in Crazy Quilt
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
Have something to add? Email
us.
new 10/3/06
Sorting
Time
Christine is looking for a poem she says is
called "The Sort." She tells us she heard it on "CFCW, in
Alberta. It was about sorting day and how the neighbors were busy, on had to
go to the dentist the other was getting his books done. One line was ma was in
the house pouring a snort, cuz it was sorting day. There also a line
about ma locking pa in the barn, until he promise to quiet his cussing at her
and the cows.
Have an answer for Christine? Email
us.
new 10/3/06
The Cowboy's Life
Answered
Jason wrote to Who
Knows? about a poem he had heard in the early 1980s in grade school,
which started "The bawl of a steer to a cowboy's ear..." That poem
(and song) is called The Cowboy's Life:
The bawl of a
steer
To a cowboy's ear
Is music of sweetest strain;
And the yelping notes
Of the gray coyotes
To him are a glad refrain.
...
and ends:
Saddle up,
boys,
For the work is play
When love's in the cowboy's eyes,
When his heart is light
As the clouds of white
That swim in the summer skies.
Our
version comes from the 1921 edition of Jack Thorp's Songs
of the Cowboys. Thorp notes that he, "Heard this sung at a
little round-up at Seven Lakes, New Mexico, by a puncher
named Spence."
The first
lines of the piece have been quoted often, have appeared on postcards (see two
here along with the poem) and such. One
postcard attributes the verse to James Barton Adams and to a work of his
we haven't located, "The Trail" (it does not appear in Adams' 1899
collection of poems, Breezy Western Verse). But, Thorp, in
another entry in his 1921 Songs of the Cowboys, includes a piece called
A Song of the Range and notes it is
"By James Barton Adams, sent me by Miss Nell Benson." The piece is
very similar to "The Cowboy's Life," with some additional
lines. It begins:
The bawl of a
steer to a cowboy's ear is music of sweetest strain;
And the yelling notes of the gray coyotes to him are a glad
refrain;
....
and ends with a
chorus:
Hi-lo!
Hi-lay!
For the work is play
When love's in the cowboy's eyes,
When his heart is light
As the clouds of white
That swim in the summer skies;
And his jolly song
Speeds the hours along
As he thinks of that little gal
With the golden hair
Who'll be waiting there
At the gate of the home corral.
Read both poems
in our feature about the 1921 Songs of the Cowboys, here.
Have something to add? Email
us.
updated 10/3/06
new 3/6/06
Brush that
little tear away ...
Roger wrote: Today, a man
sent me a poem or song that he has read to his children and grandchildren for
decades. Now, one of them wants to know where it came from. Do you have any
idea? With it's reference to "wooden pony," it seems obviously
written for a child.
"Brush that little tear away, old timer,
You know a cowboy never cries.
Something must have spoiled your day, old timer,
Did campfire smoke get in your eyes?
You're weary fighting battles with the redskins,
Your little wooden pony's weary, too.
So hit the trail to slumberland, old timer,
You know, a cowboy never cries."
Virginia also wrote:
My dad sang this to us every night when I was a
kid, but with slightly different words. I'd love to know where this came
from as well.
Brush away your little tear, old timer,
You know a cowboy never cries.
Something must have spoiled your day, old timer,
Did campfire smoke get in your eyes?
You're weary fighting battles with the redskins,
Your little wooden pony's weary, too.
So hit the trail to slumberland, old timer,
While your Daddy watches over you."
Have an answer for Roger
and Virginia? Email
us.
updated 6.9.08
updated 10/03/06
new 8/19/04
Pecos
Higgins
(Answered)
Dave wrote in 2004: I am looking
for any information on the life of Eugene "Pecos" Higgins
(1883-1971). He was a cow puncher, outlaw, poet that spent most of his life in
the White Mountains of Arizona.
We were fortunate that Stanley Brown came our way. Stan wrote:
Put Dave in touch with me.
I knew Pecos from the Cowboy Camp Meetings in the Southwest, and can share an
essay I wrote on Pecos.
Stan, who now lives in Prescott,
was the Payson, Arizona town historian and an archivist for the Rim Country
Museum. He wrote two historical articles a week for the
Payson
Roundup (search the Archive
there for many of his articles). He's a retired Methodist minister (more
about Stan below).
Stan shared that essay about
Pecos Higgins:
BACK WHEN…
PECOS
HIGGINS WAS A POET
By Stan Brown
I first met Pecos Higgins
under the Prayer Tree. If I had
known his background I would have thought that an odd place to find him.
He was born Eugene
Higgins, September 3, 1883, in
Texas. He worked as a cowboy
and by the age of 23 he had drifted to Arizona. The nickname “
Pecos
” had been given him after the name of the place his family had lived when
he was a boy. He rode for the Chiricahua Cattle Company on the San Carlos
Reservation and became well known as a roper in the Wild West shows that
were popular around the turn of the 20th century.
Pecos Higgins had a
series of five marriages, each one failing because of his heavy drinking.
As an alcoholic he bounced between jobs in Springerville, Taylor, McNary,
Show Low and New Mexico.
He went to prison for selling
liquor to the Indians, and after he was released he tried to settle down on
a little ranch he bought near Lakeside, called The Buckhorn.
However he lost that ranch in his next divorce and earned a living
breaking mustangs. During this
time he became known as a cowboy poet, and made some money entertaining the
dudes.
So the episodes in the
life of Pecos Higgins accumulated, in and out of marriages and prison,
drifting, drinking, raising Cain, cattle rustling and riding the range.
One day he met a couple from his home state of Texas who in turn
introduced Pecos to Joe Evans. Evans
was the founder of the Southwest Cowboy Camp Meeting movement, a tough old
cowpoke who was a devout Christian.
The
two cowboys began a correspondence and Pecos learned to highly respect Joe
Evans. The Texan contacted a friend in Springville, asking to pick the old
coot up and take him to church. Pecos
tried to refuse, but when he found out they were representing Joe Evans he
agreed to go. Joe had been
sending him books along with his letters, and Pecos had begun to think about
what they said.
The day the couple picked
Pecos up for church he was recovering from a three-week drunk.
He stuffed a pint of whiskey into his boot and took it with him to
worship. consuming it all right after the service.
The couple was persistent and got Pecos involved in Cowboy Camp
Meetings being held in New Mexico and Arizona.
He would recite poetry and tell stories so that he became quite an
attraction. It was an evening in 1955 when the message of God’s love got
through to Pecos. At the age of
71 he hobbled down to the front of the tent and confessed that he believed
and Christ could be his boss from now on.
Higgins soon became a
familiar sight at laymen’s retreats and camp meetings.
One magazine described him as “looking like a wizened,
leather-skinned character from a TV western, walks half-bent, head down,
jerking with each step, as if his cowboy boots are too tight.
He dresses the part of an Arizona ranch hand, including a big
Stetson, bright neckerchief and boots.”
I met Pecos in 1962, a
few months after he had taken up residence in the Pioneer Home in Prescott.
My family and I were attending the eight-day Camp Meeting in Chino
Valley, and that afternoon all us men were gathered around the Prayer Tree
on that ranch, as is the custom. While the men meet there the women all meet
under the big tent. It was
Thursday, and every afternoon that week one old cowboy had spoken the same
prayer, “Lord, sweep away the cobwebs from our hearts and minds.”
By this time Pecos Higgins had heard the unanswered prayer long
enough, and interrupted with a prayer of his own.
“Lord, never mind the cobwebs.
Kill the spider!”
Obviously that prayer had
been answered for old Pecos. The
spiders were gone from his mind and with them the cobwebs of a troubled
life. There was sweetness
showing through the trail-weary renegade.
About sixty of us stood holding hands in a circle around a big
juniper tree as the time of testimony and prayer came to an end.
Cowboys and ranchers were lifting their voices in prayer. Their skin
must have been tougher than mine because the mosquitoes were attacking my
neck and arms and there was no escape from the callused hands that griped me
on either side. Then Pecos
prayed again. “Lord,” he
said, “I ain’t askin’ ya for nothin’ – I’m jist thankin’ ya
for ever’thing.”
Four years later, short
of his 88th birthday, Pecos Higgins died and was laid to rest on
a Prescott hillside. His marker
reads, “He made a good hand.”
© Stanley Brown, All Rights
Reserved
These words may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
(Stan Brown also shared
some history about the old cowboy standard, "Billy
Vanero.")
More about Stan
(Stanley C. Brown)
Stan Brown was born and raised in Chicago,
Illinois. He attended Washington and Lee University and Northwestern
University, graduating from the latter in 1950 with a BS degree in American
history. As a child and youth he developed skills in writing, but his career
interests were changed by a calling into the Christian ministry. He obtained
a master's degree in theology from Garrett Theological Seminary, and spent
forty years, from 1951 to 1991, as a pastor in the United Methodist Church.
During this time Stan was active in the United Christian Ashram movement,
serving on its international board and as a Bible teacher and evangelist,
working with E. Stanley Jones for many years.
Stan's career took him to Arizona in 1958.
He and his family lived in Phoenix for five years (Central; Methodist
Church), Long Beach, California for eight years (Grace United Methodist
Church), and Tucson, Arizona (Catalina United Methodist Church), for twenty
years until his retirement in 1991. At that time he and his wife made
Payson, Arizona, their permanent home
Upon retirement Stan again took up his
interest in research and writing about American history. His special area of
expertise is the history of central Arizona, and Territorial Arizona. Stan
was a member of the Westerner's International, Tucson Corral, and is past
president of the Northern Gila County Historical Society in Payson, Arizona
where he held the position of historian and archivist for the Society and
its Rim Country Museum. He also was appointed Town Historian for Payson,
Arizona, and wrote two articles each week on regional history for the local
newspaper, The Payson Roundup. In June of 2004 Ruth and Stan moved to
Prescott to take residence in the Las Fuentes Resort Village.
Stan and his wife Ruth have been married
since 1949. They have three children, thirteen grandchildren and seven
great-grandchildren. Most of these live in the Long Beach area of
California. Stan continues historical research and writing manuscripts and
historical papers.
We finally came by
Pecos' Poems in 2008:
Pecos' Poems, written with
Joe Evans (1956 and 1957) also contains biographical material, photos, a
colorful introduction by the co-authors, letters, stories, some
religious poems, cowboy poems, and poems that have been borrowed in
large part from others, including "Sirene Peaks" (a version of Gail
Gardner's "
