This is Page 2.
See Page 1 for an index to the questions, answers, and poems.
new 1/12/03
The Poem from "8 Seconds," the Movie about Lane Frost answered
We get many of requests like this one from Leann: "I was watching the movie 8 Seconds with Lane Frost and Tuff Hedeman and they had a poem in the movie . I believe it to be called the "Legacy of a Cowboy." Could you help me find this poem?In the movie, the poem is called "Cowboy is his Name" It is a version of Baxter Black's poem, "Legacy of the Rodeo Man." You can read the text Baxter's poem here at the BAR-D and read both poems here on a fine site dedicated to Lane Frost.
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updated 10/25/06
updated 7/13/06
updated 5/4/06
updated 3/25/05
updated 12/15/03
updated 5/15/03
updated 1/12/03
new 8/19/02Just What Do "Snuffy" and "Fiery" Mean in "I Ride and Old Paint"?
(and some words about "Hoolihan" and about the "old dan")Barbara asks:
When we were in Missoula, Montana last month, we had dinner with a couple who lived there. We got to talking about songs about Montana and I sang "I Ride an Ol' Paint" for them. I had learned that song forty years ago in grade school. I seem to remember that the teacher explained what "the fiery and the snuffy" meant, but that explanation didn't sit well with our new Montana friends. I searched all over the internet for a site that might tell me, but the only one I found with footnotes said only that snuffy meant "snuff colored, or reddish-brown." Can you tell me who is right? Our friend from Montana said that fiery and snuffy referred to two different colored dogies and I think I remember my teacher telling me that it referred to the names of two locomotives waiting to take the cattle to market after the roundup. Thanks.
Snuffy and Fiery
We told Barbara:
In the Songs of the Wild West, with commentary by Alan Axelrod, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art 1991, the author says "...fiery (another term for paint) and the snuffy (a buff- or snuff-colored horse)..."
Someone else weighed in:
Regarding the meaning of "the fiery & snuffy" have always meant (to me) that the ones prone to spooking & snorting (the fiery & the snuff-y) are just LOOKING for an excuse to stampede. Seems perfectly obvious! And therefore, you would want to "ride around them SLOW."
Popular musician, auctioneer and DJ Stan Howe from Montana offers:
The "Fiery & Snuffy" in "I Ride and Old Paint" refer to Lighting and Thunder. Those names for it were well known to anyone in Wyoming and Montana at the time the song was written. Note that the line is: "For the fiery and snuffy are ready to go." Often it is sung as: "For they're fiery and snuffy and ready to go," which also works if you consider the cattle to be fiery and snuffy. What it really refers to, though, is lightning and thunder.
Reference: Old time cowboy fiddler and singer Jim Beebe, son of Steve Bebee, famous Texas/Montana trail hand pictured in many of the early books on Montana including Before Barbed Wire: L. A. Huffman, Photographer on Horseback by Mark H. BrownDon adds:
[My dad] said "fiery" and "snuffy" were the campfire and branding iron.
In July, 2006, Milton wrote:
Having worked as a cowboy in Montana, Wyoming, Nevada, and Idaho, and about the terms "fiery and snuffys": whenever you're holding up a herd of cattle to work, be it branding or cutting out steers, there are always a certain few in the herd that are looking for a chance to breakout of the hold up and head back to their home range.
Ray commented in October, 2006. See his comments here.
Here are the words:I Ride an Old Paint
(traditional)I ride an old paint, I lead an old dan
I'm goin' to Montana to throw the hoolihan
They feed in the coulees, they water in the draw
Their tails are all matted, their backs are all rawRide around little dogies, ride around them slow
For the fiery and snuffy are rarin' to goOld Bill Jones had a daughter and a son
One went to college, the other went wrong
His wife, she got killed in a poolroom fight
But still he's a-singin' from mornin' till nightWhen I die, take my saddle from the wall
Place it on my old pony, lead him out of his stall
Tie my bones to my saddle and turn our faces to the West
And we'll ride the prairie we love the best
I ride an old paint, I lead an old dan
I'm goin' to Montana to throw the hoolihan
They feed in the coulees, they water in the draw
Their tails are all matted, and their backs are all raw
Don adds:
I learned a slightly different version of this song from an old Burl Ives record my Dad had years ago:
"Old Bill Jones had two daughters and a song;
one went to Denver; the other went wrong.
His wife, she died in a pool room fight.
Still he keeps singin' all day and all night."
Hoolihan
We get questions about the meaning of "hoolihan."
In the 1933 Cowboy Lore, by Jules Verne Allen (more about that here) one interesting section of commonly used terms includes entries such as "HOOLIHANING, the act of leaping forward and alighting on the horns of a steer in bull-dogging in a manner to knock the steer down without having to resort to twisting the animal down with a wrestling hold. Hoolihaning is barred at practically all recognized contests."
In response to our posting that information, Rod Miller wrote "The line 'throw the Hoolihan' that appears in 'I Ride an Old Paint' almost surely refers to a type of loop used in roping, often for catching horses. A hoolihan is a kind of backhand loop, but distinct from a regular backhand loop in that the roper rolls his wrist and the loop rolls over in the air. That rolling motion also describes the motion of a hoolihanned steer in bulldogging -- it does a forward roll. It is unlikely that the line in the song has reference to bulldogging as Bill Pickett is credited with inventing that particular activity long after, I suspect, 'I Ride an Old Paint" was first written and sung."
Rod also referred us to the definition of "hooley-ann" in Ramon F. Adams' Cowboy Lingo (1936): "The term 'hooley-ann' was a roping term and the throw was used mostly to catch calves out of a bunch and to rope horses. The roper rode with his loop in his hand, and when the chance presented itself, he swung the loop backward instead of forward, and as it came over it was turned in such a way as to cause it to flatten out before it reached the head of the animal to be roped. Just one swing and it could be tossed thirty feet forward. The size of the loop depended upon the distance it was to be thrown and the size of the animal. A good calf-roper who used the 'hooley-ann' might be thirty feet from a wee tot of a calf and start a loop that a beef steer could pass through, but the noose ran out by reason of the distance, and by the time it reached the calf, it was barely large enough to pass around the calf's neck."
Adams' definition of "hoolihaning" is word-for-word the same as that in Jules Verne Allen's Cowboy Lore cited above. Cowboy Lore was published three years before Adams' book.
A history site here: http://historywired.si.edu/detail.cfm?ID=49 claims "A Hoolihan is a left-hand-and-around horse throw. The rope is released with minimum of movement."
A site here: http://home.att.net/~basicbrian/iride.html has the song and a note: "A very dangerous rodeo move, jumping from a horse at full gallop onto a moving cow, to flip it over. The move, named after it's originator, is now banned in competition."
The PBS History of the West site places the song in the 1868-1874 period, but without documentation.
In May, 2006, Don comments:
"My Dad, who grew up in the 1920's and 1930's on a ranch in west Texas, said that throwing the hoolihan could be used to mean 'getting ready to die' similar to 'headin' for the last roundup.'"
In July, 2006, Milton writes:
Hoolihan is a loop thrown, usually when you're roping horses.
Ray commented in October, 2006. See his comments here.
Old Dan
In March, 2005 Danni writes:
... the writer refers to "leading an old Dan. Is an old dan a mule or another type of horse?
We answered:
In in Songs of the Wild West, Alan Axelrod writes "Some versions of this song say "old dam" rather than "old Dan" which suggests the pack horse is the old paint's mother." Others have suggested it is "dun," a reference to the color of the horse.
In October, 2006, Ray writes:
I have read several times, with some amusement, this discussion about the words in the old song, "I Ride an Old Paint." I finally decided that I had just as well get into the fray.
First I will state an observation, based on many years in the saddle and observing people that either work in the periphery of the cowboys world such as forest rangers, veterinarians, ranch-hands, sometimes ranch managers or owners or others that have made a study of the cowboy like college professors, musicians, entertainers and artists. Many of these people have written authoritative descriptions and opinions of a cowboy's life and language. Some of their work is very entertaining and often close to the mark but if you read long enough you can detect a lack of the smell of sage brush and horse manure. When you read the opinions about "Old Paint" and "Old Dan," or "Fiery" and "Snuffy,, or what is a "hoolihan," some of them sound plausible, some of them are funny and some of them are downright absurd. Of all the ideas about these words the only one that hit the mark was the man that said he had cowboyed in four or five states.
Starting from the beginning, anyone that has caught horses around a roundup wagon as the daylight is starting to break in the east (when you have to bend down so you can skyline a horses ears to know where to throw your "hoolihan") more then a few times has known a multicolored horse called Paint or a faithful old Dan. When I think of the big wagon outfits around the west I can't recall one that didn't have a Paint Hoss and an Old Dan. Fiery and Snuffy were more often used as adjectives to describe the way a horse or another animal acted although I've known horses that were named as
such because that was the way that they acted. Fiery would fire (buck) at any opportunity. Snuffy was just touchy and had to snort whenever he was startled. In the context of this song, Fiery and Snuffy are a couple critters that were spooky and ready to run at the drop of a hat, hence they acquired the names. The hoolihan, again as the old cowboy indicated, is a method of throwing a loop with a minimum amount of motion. Instead of whirling the loop around your head as is generally done when in pursuit of a critter the loop is kept still at your side until the opportune time when it is then flipped backhanded to the unsuspecting target head. The idea is to avoid excess motion that would disturb flighty cattle or horses. When a steer is hoolihanned his head is jammed into the ground so that he flips straight over in a similar fashion. Bill Pickett is credited with introducing the hoolihan to the early day rodeos but I believe it was practiced by the early California Vaqueros in "la plaza de toros."
We welcome your comments, as always.
See Jack Thorp's 1921 version of "Old Paint" in our feature here.
By the way, the song is included in our anthology, The Big Roundup.
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answered 1/5/03
new 7/29/02Old Fort Laramie Answered!
Don wrote to us:
Don't know if you can help out but my father learned a poem in grade school as a youngster back in the 30's. He can still recite the poem, but doesn't recall the name of the poem or the author, I was wondering if you could help. The first line of the poem goes,
Old Fort Laramie long ago faced a siege and a blizzard snow,Then he added:
I got a little more of the poem I previously wrote you about, but still do not know the author or the name of the poem, please help if you can. The poem goes....
Old Fort Laramie long ago,
faced a siege in blizzard snow,
faced three thousand circling Sioux,
raging red and arrows slew,
Every man that showed his head,
faced them short of men and lead.
Full two hundred miles would be,
down the trail to Laramie.
Who will go asked Harrington,
Quick as the word there up spoke one.
Philip Trapper, hunter, scout,
waits till night then ventures out,
crawls out crafty thru the snow,
weather thirty odds below.
Leading lest their keen eyes find him,
a snow white horse five rods behind him.
Bare back lest the saddle shake,
so he crawls till day break.
Day break comes he mounts and rides,
rides with the death of a caravan,
chewing frozen pemmican.
Horse shoe station greets his eyes,
there the telegraph he tries,
wires have snapped with weighted snow,
Still forty more "cold" miles to go.We knew this one. It is "Some Call it Brave," by S. Omar Barker, found in his book, Rawhide Rhymes. The book is out of print, but available from libraries and used book sources. It actually starts:
Old Fort Kearney, long ago,
Faced a siege in a blizzard's snow;
Faced three thousand circling Sioux,
Raging reds whose arrows slew
Every man who showed his head;
Faced them short of men and lead.and it ends:
Old Fort Kearney, long ago,
Heard thrice-welcome bugles blow.
Up the trail from Laramie,
Troopers brought delivery.
Though no stone marks Phillips' grave,
Some there are who call him brave.
Booming like a muffled drum,
Still the Big Horn blizzards come,
Chanting snowy litanies:
"We remember the Portuguese!"See our feature on S. Omar Barker here.
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answered 12/18/02
updated 11/29/02
new 9/04/02Eating off the Dog's Plate Answered!!
("Mad Jack's Dog" by Rod McQueary)Carnes asks:
I wonder if you can help me find a poem. I heard it years ago on the Johnny Carson show when he had Baxter Black and some other "cowboy poets" on. This isn't a Baxter Black poem though. All I remember of it was the first line which said "It was a small and _____ cabin, thick dirt roof and round corral" and the last line was something like "he's not mad its just you're eating off his plate." It was the story of a cowboy who stopped at an old prospectors cabin and ended up staying for supper and had to eat off the dog's plate. I thought it was so funny. Any help you could give me would be truly appreciated.
Oakbook asked about the same poem:
I was hoping to find someone who might remember a poem that was in a cowboy magazine about 10 to 15 years ago. It was about a cowboy or trapper who came upon an old cabin and the old guy there invited the traveler in to have supper. While they where eatin' the old guys dog kept growling at the traveler until he asked the old guy why. The old guy told him that he was eatin' off of the dogs plate. Somehow this poem stuck in my head but I cannot find a copy of it anywhere.
Poet Rod McQueary (see more about him and his poetry here) wrote to us:
I wrote this and recited it on the Tonight Show, with Colen Sweeten in February, 1991.
Mad Jack's Dog
It was a short and squatty cabin
Thick dirt roof and round corral
From the distance, it looked interesting,
I stopped to rest my horse a spell.
From around behind this cabin
This wild-eyed old-timer came
Said his name was Mad Jack Hanks,
I shook his hand, told him my name.
Said he was up there trapping beaver,
And that he had the lonesome blues,
Soon, he offered bed and breakfast,
If I would share the latest news.
I agreed to his proposal
He seemed glad to have me stay,
He was rustling up some tableware,
While I put my horse away.
He had some supper going,
I hauled in a load of wood.
I shared the latest current events,
-and things were going good...
'Till I reached down to pet his damned old dog,
I truly meant no harm,
But before you know it, that old wolf had bit me on the arm.
"Mad Jack," I said, "why does your dog just glare at me with hate?"
"Oh, it's nothin', he's just cranky cause--
You're eatin off his plate.© 1991, Rod McQueary
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updated 1/23/05
updated 2/13/04
updated 12/15/03
updated 12/12/03
updated 11/25/03
updated 10/30/03
updated 5/01/03
new 12/01/02
Cowboy Poets on the Tonight Show
A number of Cowboy Poets appeared on Johnny Carson's NBC Tonight Show in the late 1980s and early 1990s, including Baxter Black, Waddie Mitchell, Lloyd Gerber, Colen Sweeten, Rodney Nelson, Carlos Ashley, Martin Bergin, Kay Kelley, Gwen Petersen, Nyle Henderson, and Rod McQueary.
Friend of the BAR-D pard Jeri Dobrowski wrote:
Add the name of Kay Kelley to those who performed on the Tonight Show. I'm pretty sure she was on the same show as Rod Nelson -- the first segment featuring cowboy poets.
The Santa Fe, N.M. cowgirl poet did her poem lamenting the misunderstanding between ranch and wrench. Seems she fell in love with her future husband, when he said he had a "big ranch." Only later did she come to realize that what he had said was "big wrench." Alas, plumbing tools were not what she had in mind!
Kay performed at the first and second Dakota Cowboy Poetry Gatherings, Medora, N.D., back in 1987 and 1988.
Jeri's note led us search further and we and found that www.JohnnyCarson.com has a good searchable database, from which we extracted some additional dates for the poets who appeared on the show:
02-08-85 WADDIE MITCHELL and NYLE HENDERSON (Thanks to Bob Sigman of Chuckwagon's Best for this one)
01-15-1986 WADDIE MITCHELL & GWEN PETERSON
01-08-1987 WADDIE MITCHELL & BAXTER BLACK
1-4-88 BAXTER BLACK
1-19-89 BAXTER BLACK & CARLOS ASHLEY
02-3-89 [Lloyd Gerber and Martin Bergin were listed as guests]
03-24-1989 KAY KELLEY & RODNEY NELSON
1-17-90 BAXTER BLACK
02-08-1991 [This was the date that Colen Sweeten and Rod McQueary were "bumped" when the show ran out of time.]
02-21-1991 [This is the date that Colen Sweeten and Rod McQueary returned.]8-28-91 BAXTER BLACK
1-17-92 BAXTER BLACK
Doug Brewer recently performed with Colen Sweeten, and he reminded us of the poem Colen wrote about being "bumped" from the Tonight Show the first time he and Rod McQueary were invited, when the show ran out of time. That was Colen's poem "Famous -- Almost":
Famous -- Almost
We'd spent the weekend down in Elko
With cowboy poets -- what a sight!
There came a call from the Tonight Show,
They invited me for Friday night!
My eyebrows were twitching with excitement
As I put the receiver down.
Then the word spread like a brushfire
To a thousand people in our town.
Each friend had a friend who had a friend,
Our town is a friendly place.
Word made the rounds in leaps and bounds
To what seemed half the human race.
The show had made all arrangements.
I flew with Delta to L. A.
Where a limo waited at the airport
To take me to a fancy place to stay.
The studio had my name printed
On a dressing-room for just one night.
They finally got to where they could spell it
But they never did pronounce it right.
Rod came in at the last minute.
He said his horse had come up lame.
We spruced up some and put our hats on,
We were on our way to fame!
We got close enough to see the spotlight
But we didn't say one cowboy rhyme
We got the V. I. P. treatment
But they just flat-out ran out of time.
So I've come to a conclusion,
It's like a boyhood I once knew,
When I got far too much attention
Over something that I didn't do.
© 1992, Colen H. Sweeten, Jr.
When Colen returned and was on the show, he recited "Feelin' My Oats," which poked fun of the Quaker Oats commercials starring Wilford Brimley. He had to explain a few lines that would have gone over the heads of non-ranching viewers: "... I'm eating oats three times a day/ If I ate that much wheat the soles of my feet / Would look like runners on a sleigh."
Rod McQueary recited "Mad Jack's Dog," which is mentioned above.
Friends of Cowboy Poetry mourn the loss of Johnny Carson, who died January 23, 2005.
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new 11/29/02
The Canvassing Agent
Terri wrote to us first:
I am looking for a reading, ballad, cowboy poem, ??? not sure, but they were recited at community gatherings in Weiser, Idaho in 1920's-1930's called "Alaska" and "The Canvassing Agent." Have you ever heard of these???? I think Alaska was the name of a woman.
We suggested "Lasca" to Terri and that was one of the poems. We were interested in these early Weiser gatherings and asked her to tell us more. She said she was asking on the part of her mother-in-law, who had placed an ad in a publication naming these and other poems:
"Wanted: words to readings my father, William Oliver Turnidge (of Monroe Creek, north of Weiser, Idaho) recited at community gatherings in 1920's-1930's..."
Terri found the sources of the other poems and then got a description of "The Canvassing Agent" from her mother in law: "A gal was in her house and there was a knock at the door. It was a salesman and she pretended that she couldn't hear, because he was trying to sell her something through the door. So, he would talk and she would pretend that he was her long lost lover. So the conversation would go on, with him talking (trying to sell her on his product) with her replying each time with something like he was her long lost lover."
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new 10/20/02
When I Pitch My Tent at the End of the Trail
Connie asks:
I've been contacted by a librarian with a patron who is looking for the complete poem and poet's name for a poem which includes the following lines. (The poem was recited to the patron by her 92-year-old grandmother):
At the end of the trail where er' that may be
When death draws rein to speak to me
With howdy pardner I hope I'll grin
-------------sit and chin?
Though my hand may be shakey
There never was-------------
How am I to know that God's not a friend
Waiting to give me that comrade's hail
When I pitch my tent at the end of the trail
Have an answer for Connie? Email us.
updated 12/12/03
new 10/20/02
"Sleepin' in the Bunkhouse" by Ken Gardner Answered!
Many Gates Poem
Nancy asks:
Do you know where I might find:
a book called "Sleepin in the Bunkhouse" by Ken Gardner?
a poem about GATES and all the different kind that this cowboy has had to
open and close over his lifetime - ending of course at the pearly gates.
In December 2003 Ken Gardner himself wrote to us, and said:
"The book has not been published. Only a couple of computer-generated copies exist and those are in my possession."We'll keep you posted on any news we receive.
Have an answer about the "many gates" poem for Nancy? Email us.
new 9/04/02
Tie That Binds
Mary Ann wrote to us:
I'm a reference librarian and have a patron who is looking for a poem he heard years ago. All he remembers is that it referred to a "tie that binds" and how you don't have to wear such a thing in the West. I can't find a reference to such a thing. Can you help? Thanks!
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new 9/04/02
answered 9/07/02
The Knife and the Orange Answered!
Milton asks:
Quite a while back, I heard a poem on TV about a cowboy who cuts up an orange with his knife all the while telling what terrible things he does with that knife. When he's done cutting up the orange and has it distributed to his listeners, he let's them know that when the knife gets too dirty, he cleans it with an orange.
It's a terrible funny poem, but I've not seen it written anywhere. Would you know who wrote it or where I can get a copy of this poem? I'd be very grateful for your assistance..
Chuck Larsen of Saratoga, Wyoming led us right to the answer and the poet in question, his friend John Nelson of Gunnison, Colorado. You can enjoy John's poem, "Never Eat Oranges," right here. The poem is included in John Nelson's book, My Participle's Danglin', available for $10 from John Nelson, The Gunnison Country Guide Service, P.O. Box 1443, Gunnison, CO 81230 (970) 641-2830.
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updated 1/20/05
updated 2/14/04
new 9/04/02The Guide -- High up and Lonesome Answered!!
Martin asks:
I was looking for a poem called "The Guide." I have no idea who wrote it. It has a refrain....something about "high up and lonesome..." If you have any ideas about where I might find it, I sure would appreciate it.
John Nelson (see the reference to his poem, "Never Eat Oranges," above) noticed this question and had the answer. He told us "That poem is called "The Guide" and was written by Brian Brannon. It was published in Western Horseman magazine several years ago... I am a guide/outfitter and memorized the poem from the magazine and sometimes used to recite it for guests on pack trips..." With a search of the magazine's archives, we found it was in the February, 1992 issue. Seems Brian Brannon is a hard guy to find these days.
January, 2005 update:
Brian Brannon is back from the mountains, and we're pleased to have "The Guide" and some of his other poems right here.
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new 8/21/02
"The Luck of a Buck" S. Omar Barker?
Steve wrote to us:
For years my dad has quoted a poem he swears was by S. Omar Barker called "The Luck of a Buck." My brothers and I have searched far and wide for a copy of it and have had no luck. This weekend is my Dad's 75th and I'm hoping that you folks might be able to help me. He remembers that it was in a magazine such as "Field & Stream" or "Outdoor Life" any clues?
We asked if he had any further clues, and he wrote:
I do remember bits and pieces, I think, so here goes:
"It was mid-November and the air was chill
when two big bucks came over the hill.
Their sharp hooves cut the frozen snow
like biscuit cutters cutting biscuit dough.
The home-town boy, we'll call him Mac,
took one look at the almanac..."Sorry, boys, that's all I remember. I do know it was a long "story-type" poem (which I heard 100's of times) and as I said earlier, it was featured in an outdoor magazine. My Dad tells of how his teacher back in the ol' one room school house made him and the other rough and tumble farm boys memorize it when they complained that poetry was for girls (now there was a teacher who knew how to reach her students!) and after that he sat in his deer stand and said over and over to himself.
--
We talked to Janice Coggin, a font of information and the publisher of the definitive S. Omar Barker book (that doesn't include the poem) and she said "....ummmm....maybe it was a part of his nature poetry, I have some of that somewhere. And maybe it was his brother, John, well known writer and the person who found Smokey the Bear. He wrote stories and some poetry." She mentioned that they both wrote for the outdoor magazines.
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updated 8/19/04
updated 5/01/03
updated 10/24/02
updated 9/04/02"Pretty Good Dog," "The Order Buyer" A Kansas Poet? Answered
Dan from the Lazy D wrote to us:
I am trying to find a poet. I don't know the poet's name. I only know a few poems called "A Pretty Good Dog" and "The Order Buyer". I think he was from Kansas. He published those poems around 1990. They were on a cassette tape. He had one poem about going roping in Nebraska. I know some of the lines from the poems....the most memorable is about three cowboys from Kansas going roping in Nebraska and coming upon icy roads. As they start down a really slick hill, the driver says to the passenger "Wake ole Leroy up. He's never seen a real bad wreck." Another poem was about the poet helping a neighbor work cattle and someone bringing a "Pretty good cow dog" as they get the cattle penned the dog chases them thru the fence and loses em all. There was a story about the poet being invited to read poetry at a ladies tea by mistake but they enjoyed him so much they had him back the next year. One story was about an old cowboy taking his old horse to the sale but not being able to sell him and when he got home his wife had the stall all ready for the old horse cause she knew her husband would PO him and bring him home. I'm almost sure this cowboy poet story teller was from Kansas and I bought his cassette at the bit and spur show in Abiline Tx in 1990 or '91. I've lost the cassette and have looked for it every time I seen cowboy poetry for sale. Any help would be appreciated.
Missouri Cowboy Poet Johnny Kendrick had information for Dan:
I'm not certain, but I think the author of the poems you're talking about is Jack DeWerff, who, as far as I know, is at Ellinwood, Kansas. He appeared at the Echoes of the Trail poetry gathering at Fort Scott, Kansas, a few years ago and it seems like I remember him reciting those two you mentioned. There's a CD made at the 1998 Echoes of the Trail that has DeWerff doing "From a Dog's Point of View," though that's not the same one as you mention. Hope this helps.
DJ Jo Hargrave (Keepin' it Cowboy) tracked down poet Jack DeWerff (she had the same tape and the same question). She told us in August, 2004:
Jack had an earlier tape from the '80s but thought it wasn't real good quality so he went into a studio and redid his recordings and added to them in 1990. One set is Prairie Tales in Rhyme Vol 1 & 2. The other is Cowboy Philosophy Vol 1 & 2. There are 2 tapes in each set so they are $20 a set plus $2.50 shipping. I have used his stories and poems many times on my show. He is a wonderful man and a great storyteller.
Contact Jo through her web site: www.keepinitcowboy.com.
"Pretty Good Dog" and five other poems by Jack DeWerff are included in Prairie Poetry: Cowboy Verse of Kansas, edited by our Honored Guest Jim Hoy.
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new 8/19/02
Oklahoma...Way Out Where the West Begins...
Barbara wrote to us:
I have only the following lines:
"Way out where the West begins, you'll find Oklahoma,
They say that's where your troubles end, out in Oklahoma."
I believe it to have been used in a movie made in the forties. It was a song sung by a young girl. Do you know the song? Can you tell me what movie it was? Thanks.
We told Barbara that we knew a song about Kansas from the 40s that has that business about "troubles end" http://www.angelfire.com/ks/tomes2/KansasSongs/Sunflower.htm but we didn't have any Oklahoma answers.
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new 8/19/02
Fort Ransom Rodeo Poem by Charlie Hunt
Kathleen wrote to us:
I am looking for a cowboy poem by Charlie Hunt. It is a story about Russell Larson roping a buffalo at a rodeo in Fort Ransom, ND. I heard the poem in Medora ND several years ago and have been trying to get a copy of it for my brother. He was there at the rodeo so I know it's a true story. Can you help in any way?
With the kind help Yvonne Hollenbeck, we got in touch with Charlie Hunt and he answered:
That's been a long time ago, I'm afraid. I remember the poem but not well enough to write it down. I wrote it before I began saving some of my poems. I must have written it down because I remember using it at Medora just one time and that's maybe 6 or 8 years ago. If I can run across it, I'll sure send it to you.
We'll keep you posted.
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new 7/29/02
A Buckaroo from the Circle Two
Rob wrote to us:
I am looking for a poem that I used to know. It starts with the verse, "A buckaroo from the Circle 2, after drawing all his pay. Headed straight for town where he rode right down to the bar called Happy Day..." I think the poem was originally published in Cowboy Magazine, would have been maybe 1993-1995 possibly. I was working at the Ward Ranch in Tulare CA at the time, and I remember reciting it to some of the other hands there, but that's about as close as I can nail it down. Seems like it was maybe called "The Storm" or something similar. The poem told the story of a cowboy kid who causes a stampede, resulting in the death of an older hand by the name of Reed. After the incident, he "sold his kack, never went back, his cowboy days were through..." When the poem ends, the old man telling the story in the bar to the young buckaroo gets up and leaves. After eavesdropping on the story, the bartender realizes that the old man is the kid in the story; he ended up a sad, old drunk. I still remember the bulk of it, but I'm missing about the middle 3 stanzas. Its about 100 lines in length. Please help!
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new 7/29/02
The Hanging of Texas Peters
Keith wrote to us:
I teach public speaking in a St. Louis area high school, and I have a fondness of storytelling poetry that goes back to my childhood, hearing my dad read "The Cremation of Sam McGee." I had a student back in 1980 recite a poem called "The Hanging of Texas Peters" that I found hilarious, but I have forgotten the author. I believe it was fairly old, perhaps from the days of Robert W. Service. The poem tells of a lynch mob that drags a man from jail to hang him for cattle rustling. When they discover that the man they grabbed was in for murder, they let him go, because, while killing a man is an awful thing it's something they can understand.
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new 7/29/02
A Matter of Taste Answered!
Jim wrote to us:
Decades ago, on the Johnny Carson show, a cowboy poet, (I think, teaching in Boise) recited one comparing castrating cattle vs sheep. "...With sheep, it's a matter of taste." Can anyone tell me the author and get me a copy of the poem?This question sent us on a happy journey. We happened to ask past Lariat Laureate Sam Jackson if he knew the poem. Sam knows a lot about Idaho poets and sheep....Sam sent us over to poet and Honored Guest Colen Sweeten who knew the answer right away: He told us it was Lloyd M. Gerber's poem, and that it appears in his book by the same name, It's a Matter of Taste. We got in touch with Lloyd M. Gerber and he kindly sent us the poem and his book. We're pleased to say that Lloyd M. Gerber is also now our Honored Guest, and you can read more of his poetry here. Here's the poem Jim was after:
It's a Matter of Taste
Some say castrating a calf is a matter of taste;
Some do it slowly and others in haste.
Some gently saw, while others pull
While making a steer out of a bull.
Some use heavy rubber bands;
Don't want blood to get on their hands.
Some use heavy tools that crush;
Some cut them straight off--they're in a rush.
But lambs are another matter, you know;
Those little round things so slick they grow.
They slip an' slide in their woolly sheath,
'Till you finally give up and use your teeth.
And that's not the easiest thing to do,
'Cause you've got to remember not to chew,
And if your teeth aren't all in place,
They'll slip and slide right through the space.
You've got your nose right in their wool;
You want to gag 'cause your mouth is full,
And when in ticks and grease you wallow,
You hold your breath 'cause you dare not swallow.
Finally, when you come up for air,
You bring only one and not a pair.
Back you go to grope for the one,
And when you tooth it you are finally done.
Now calves, it is true, shouldn't be done in haste.
But when you cut lambs, it's a matter of taste.© Lloyd M. Gerber, All Rights Reserved, reprinted with permission
In his book, It's A Matter of Taste, Lloyd Gerber notes that he performed this poem on the NBC Tonight Show with Johnny Carson in February, 1988. Colen Sweeten sent us a slightly different version of this poem, which he said was from Lloyd Gerber's book, I Ain't No Dude. Lloyd Gerber includes the introduction to It's A Matter of Taste as printed in the book. The book is available from Lloyd Gerber for $15 plus $4 postage: 3420 Shadow Hills Dr.; Eagle, ID 83616
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new 7/29/02
A Border Affair, Spanish is the Loving Tongue (answered)
Patty wrote to us:
I believe Tex Ritter recorded a song called "A Border Affair or, Spanish is the Loving Tongue," but I can't find it on any of his albums. I'd like to have a recordin of it no matter who done the singin, or at least maybe you all know who wrote it and where I could find the words.
We told Patty that those fine words were written by Badger Clark and the poem "A Border Affair" is in his book, Sun and Saddle Leather. The words can be found in many places on the web. There's something about the Tex Ritter recordin' here and you can listen to the legendary Buck Ramsey sing it here on his My Home It Was In Texas recordin'.
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updated 5/04/06
new 7/29/02Lasca (answered)
Jerry wrote to us:
Sir: I am trying to locate a cowboy poem entitled "Lasca" or "Laska." It is about a cattle drover who has a Mexican girl friend named Lasca and who is killed in a sudden stampede caused by the arrival of a Texas norther. When I was a child back in the '20s we had this poem on a record - I don't know the author or the name of the person who recited it. I hope you can help me.
That poem was written by Frank Desprez. There's an article about Frank Desprez here in The Handbook of Texas On Line.
The version posted here and in our Favorite Cowboy and Western Poems Project is from the 1920 book, Songs of Horses, an anthology edited by Robert Frothingham.
I want free life and I want fresh air;
And I long for the gallop after the cattle,
In their frantic flight, like the roar of battle,
The mêlée of horns, and hoofs, and heads
That wars and wrangles and scatters and spreads--
The green beneath and the blue above,
And dash and danger, and life and love --
And Lasca!
Lasca used to ride
On a mouse-gray mustang close to my side,
With blue serapé and bright-belled spur;
I laughed with joy as I looked at her!
Little knew she of books or of creeds;
An Avé Maria sufficed her needs;
Little she cared, save to be by my side,
To ride with me, and ever to ride,
From San Saba's shore to Lavaca's tide.
She was as bold as the billows that beat,
She was as wild as the breezes that blow;
From her little head to her little feet
She was swayed in her suppleness to and fro
By each gust of passion; a sapling pine
That clings to the edge of a beetling bluff,
And wars with the wind when the weather is rough,
Is like this Lasca, this love of mine.
She would hunger that I might eat,
She'd take the bitter and leave me the sweet;
But once, when I made her jealous for fun,
At something I'd whispered, or looked, or done,
One Sunday, in San Antonio,
To a glorious girl in the Alamo,
She drew from her garter a dear little dagger,
And -- sting of a wasp! -- it made me stagger--
An inch to the left, or an inch to the right,
And I would n't be maundering here to-night;
But she sobbed, and, sobbing, so swiftly bound
Her torn rebosa about the wound,
That I quite forgave her. Scratches don't count
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.
Her eye was brown -- a deep, deep brown;
Her hair was darker than her eye;
And something in her smile and frown,
Curled crimson lip and instep high,
Showed that there ran in each blue vein,
Mixed with the milder Aztec strain,
The vigorous vintage of Old Spain.
She was alive in every limb
With feeling, to the finger tips;
And when the sun is like a fire,
And the sky one shining, soft sapphire--
One does not drink in little sips.***
The air was heavy, the night was hot,
I sat by her side, and forgot-- forgot;
Forgot the herd that was taking its rest,
Forgot that the air was close oppressed--
That the Texas norther comes without warning,
In the dead of night or the dawn of morning--
And once let the herd at its breath take fright,
And nothing on earth can stop its flight;
And woe to the rider, and woe to the steed,
That falls in front of its mad stampede!
Hark! Was that thunder? No, by the Lord!
I sprang to my saddle without a word:
One foot on mine, and she clung behind--
Away! on a wild chase down the wind!
And never was the fox-chase half so hard,
And never was steed so little spared--
For we rode for our lives: you shall hear how we fared
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.
The mustang flew, and we urged him on;
There was one chance left, and you have but one--
Halt, jump to the ground, and shoot your horse,
Crouch under his carcass and take your chance;
And if the steers, in their frantic course,
Don't batter you both to pieces at once,
You may thank your star; or else, good-bye
To the quickening kiss and the long-drawn sigh,
To the balmy air and the open sky,
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.
The cattle gained on us--and just as I felt
For my old six-shooter behind in my belt,
Down came the mustang, and down came we,
Clinging together, and-- what was the rest--?
A body that spread itself over my breast,
Two arms that shielded my dizzy head,
Two lips that close to my lips were pressed;
Then came thunder in my ears,
As over us surged the sea of steers,
Blows that beat blood into my eyes,
And when I could rise--
Lasca was dead!***
I gouged out a grave a few feet deep,
And there in Earth's bosom I laid her to sleep;
And there she is lying-- and no one knows--
'Neath summer's sun and winter's snows;
Full many a day the flowers have spread
A pall of petals over her head.
And the little gray hawk hangs aloft in the air,
And the sly coyoté trots here and there,
And the black snake glides, and glitters and slides
Into a rift in a cotton-wood tree;
And the buzzard sails on--
And comes and is gone--
Stately and still like a ship at sea.
And I wonder why I do not care
For the things that are, like the things that were--
Does half my heart lie buried there
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande?by Frank Desprez, written in 1882
this version from Songs of the Horses, 1920, edited by Robert Frothingham
Stan Howe comments:
...The first American publication of it was in Helena in 1886. There are actually a couple original copies still
around.
The version you have has lots of changes from the original, that's to be expected. However, the only way the poem really makes much sense is to have the original beginning included, which was dropped in the Lomax book that was the first publication of it in book form ...Oh, it's all very well to write reviews, and carry umbrellas and keep dry shoes.
To say what everyone's saying here, and wear what everyone else must wear,
But tonight I'm sick of the whole affair, I want free life and I want fresh air.That makes the entire poem make sense, when the listener knows why it was written.
In her book, Ten Thousand Goddam Cattle, Katie Lee devotes a number of pages to Desprez and "Lasca." She includes both an early version of the poem and the words that she put to music. She notes that the poem was first published in the monthly magazine, London Society, in November, 1882.
The Texas Folklore Society web site has a version of the poem.
There is a recording of it here: http://www.tinfoil.com/cm-9811.htm and one version here, from the Angel City Press book, Cowboy Love Poetry: Verse from the Heart of the West (edited by Paddy Calistro, Jack Lamb and Jean Penn; foreword by Waddie Mitchell
Angel City Press, Santa Monica, CA 1994. This book is included in our Anthologies Index.)
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updated 7/29/02
posted 5/23/02The Town of Loving...
Bess asks:
My husband use to quote lines from a poem that he read in the early thirties. The poem was in one of those in "wild west weekly" magazines. The gist of the poem is about the Goodnight/Loving trail and their escape from the Comanches "down on the banks of the Pecos". Some of the lines are
as follows:
The town of Loving stands near where
The Comanches missed two wisps of hair,
---------
Yonder's the river, Bill, let's ride
And thank the Lord for a place to hide,
Down on the banks of the Pecos.
Charles Goodnight and "One Arm" Bill Loving was mentioned throughout the poem. This is a sentimental poem to me and my grown-up children. When recalling stories of their late Dad, the poem is always mentioned. My husband and I would quote poetry to the children when they were very young. The above mentioned poem was a favorite. I would like to have a copy to present to
the children as a memorial to my husband, Travis.Poet Gene O'Quinn added this comment:
Don't have the poem, but "One Arm" Bill Wilson was the man referred to. He worked for Oliver Loving as Scout and trail boss and was with him when attacked by the Comanches. Loving sent Wilson to seek help while the wounded Loving remained behind. After three days, Loving managed to escape via the river and was found by Charles Goodnight several days later. Loving was taken to an Army post in New Mexico for treatment of his wounds, after many delays his arm which was infected with gangrene, was amputated. Twenty two days later Loving died. Goodnight returned his body to Texas. This incident was the pattern for Lonesome Dove written by Larry McMurtry. See more on info at The Handbook of Texas On-line. I have a lead on a poetry book that may contain this poem.
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updated 3/23/05
updated 10/27/02
updated 10/25/02
new 5/23/02Ranger McCabe and Old Rowdy Answered!
Steve asks:
About 40 years ago I read a western poem that I enjoyed and would like to find. I only remember a few parts of the poem. "Ranger McCabe and his pony Old Rowdy came riding where walking was taking a chance." Rowdy slips over the edge of a cliff. The cowboy telling the story throws a rope to McCabe, but cannot hold it. McCabe disappears saying, "Hell, I'm a going, just roll a rock down." The poem ends with the cowboy telling how he rides over the same area, and, "I roll a rock down, because McCabe was my friend."
George Wood had the answer! He wrote:
The poem is "Roll a Rock Down" by Henry Herbert Knibbs. The only place I have ever seen it is in the Anthology of American Poetry by Louis Untermeyer -- but only in the old editions (like pre 1950). I had to ask the library to look in the archives the last time I needed a copy.
We discovered that this poem was printed in the March 20, 1919 issue of "The Popular Magazine, and George sent us a copy of the poem from "Modern American Poetry," edited by Louis Untermeyer, third revised edition, © 1919, 1921, 1925 by Harcourt, Brace and Co.
The accompanying biographical note says that "....Knibbs carries on the tradition of Bret Harte and the Pike County Ballads. High-hearted verse this is, with more than an occasional flash of poetry. To the typical Western breeziness, Knibbs adds a wider whimsicality, a rough-shod but nimble imagination. Knibbs, far more accurately than Service, sings the rough-edged, horny-handed ballad of the pioneer; his is the singer of the ranch, the temporary camp, the uncertain trail. He can express courage without heroics."
The poem is in Knibbs' Songs of the Trail (1920) and it's posted on our page of Knibbs' poems here and below:
Roll a Rock Down
On, out in the West where the riders are ready,
They sing an old song and they tell an old tale,
And its moral is plain: Take it easy, go steady,
While riding a horse on the Malibu Trail.
It's a high, rocky trail with its switch-backs and doubles,
It has no beginning and never an end:
It's risky and rough and it's plumb full of troubles,
From Shifty -- that's shale -- up to Powder Cut Bend.
Old-timers will tell you the rangers who made it,
Sang "Roll A Rock Down," with a stiff upper lip,
And cussed all creation, but managed to grade it;
With a thousand-foot drop if a pony should slip.
Oh, the day it was wet and the sky it was cloudy,
The trail was as slick as any oil-riggers's pants
When Ranger McCabe on his pony, Old Rowdy,
Came ridin' where walkin' was takin' a chance.
"Oh, Roll A Rock Down!" picks and shovels was clangin',
And Rowdy a-steppin' that careful and light,
When the edge it gave way and McCabe was left hangin'
Clean over the rim--with no bottom in sight.
I shook out a loop--bein' crowded for throwin';
I flipped a fair noose for a rope that was wet:
It caught just as Mac lost his holt and was goin',
And burned through my fingers: it's burnin' them yet.
For Ranger McCabe never knuckled to danger;
My pardner in camp, on the trail, or in town:
And he slid into glory, a true forest ranger,
With" "Hell! I'm a-goin'! Just roll a rock down."
So, roll a rock down where a ranger is sleepin'
Aside of his horse below Powder Cut Bend:
I ride and I look where the shadows are creepin',
And roll a rock down--for McCabe was my friend.
I've sung you a song and I've told you my story,
And all that I ask when I'm done with the show,
Is, roll a rock down when I slide into glory,
And say that I went like a ranger should go.
Henry Herbert Knibbs, from Songs of the Trail, 1920Have something to add? Email us.
updated 5/13/09
updated 11/29/02
new 5/23/02Cattleman's Prayer
Reciter and poet Dick Morton has a question:
From Trail Boss's--Cowboy Cookbook published by the Society For Range Management--1985, I found "Cattleman's Prayer"-- Author unknown, circa 1890. Well I've been repeatin' it and would sure like to give proper credit to that cowboy poet who wrote it. I would presume he is not available to claim what is due him, so I want to do it for him.
2008: See an updated discussion of the poem here.
Here is a version from Cowboy Songs and Other Frontier Ballads (1929 edition) collected by John Lomax, where it is called the "Cowman's Prayer":
Cowman's Prayer
Now, O Lord, please lend me thine ear,
The prayer of a cattleman to hear,
No doubt the prayers may seem strange,
But I want you to bless our cattle range.
Bless the round-ups year by year,
And don't forget the growing steer;
Water the lands with brooks and rills
For my cattle that roam on a thousand hills.
Prairie fires, won't you please stop?
Let thunder roll and water drop.
It frightens me to see the smoke;
Unless it's stopped, I'll go dead broke.
As you, O Lord, my herd behold,
It represents a sack of gold;
I think at least five cents a pound
Will be the price of beef the year around.
One thing more and then I'm through,—
Instead of one calf, give my cows two.
I may pray different from other men
But I've had my say, and now, Amen.
Here's the nearly identical poem from Jack Thorp's Songs of the Cowboys (1921):
The Cowman's Prayer
Don't know the author's name. Heard it sung in a cowcamp
on the Pecos River, New Mexico.
near Fort Sumner,Now, O Lord, please lend me thine ear,
The prayer of a cattleman to hear;
No doubt the prayers may seem strange,
But I want you to bless our cattle range.Bless the round-ups year by year,
And don't forget the growing steer;
Water the lands with brooks and rills
For my cattle that roam on a thousand hills.Prairie fires, won't you please stop?
Let thunder roll, water drop.
It frightens me to see the smoke;
Unless it's stopped, I'll go dead broke.As you, O Lord, my herd behold,
It represents a sack of gold;
I think at least five cents a pound
Will be the price of beef the year round.One thing more and then I'm through,
Instead of one calf, give my cows two.
I may pray different from other men,
But I've had my say, and now, Amen.
Jim Bob Tinsley, in He Was Singin' This Song (1981), writes about "The Cowman's Prayer":
The old Socorro Bullion was published in Socorro, New Mexico from 1883-1888. Each week the newspaper featured a poem of interest for its readers. Some of the poems had known authors, others did not. On October 30, 1886, the unsigned poem "The Cattle Man's Prayer" appeared on the front page of the paper. Someone later picked it up, deleted a please of Italian skies to avert winter woes, changed the named to be "The Cowman's Prayer," and added a melody...Just when the song became popularly established in oral tradition is not a matter of record, but John Lomax included it in his first collection of cowboy songs in 1910, and Jack Thorp heard it sung in a cow camp on the Pecos River near Fort Sumner, New Mexico, before 1921.
The "Italian skies" verse to which Tinsley refers is a part of the poem Dick Morton first sent to us:
Now, O Lord, won't you be good
And give our livestock plenty of food;
And to avert a winter's woe
Give Italian skies and little snow.
Dick Morton recites the early version on his Cowboy Classics CD.
Back in 2002, we found a few references on the web for "Cattleman's Prayer," with differing dates. None of the links are still active.
An AOL member's site commented: "Westerners placed a high value on material things, especially cattle, which was, for many, their source of income. The Cattleman's Prayer expressed a certain self-interest and the following is only one of many versions. This one dates back to 1885."
"The Virtual Texan: had a version and "Author unknown, circa 1909."
An Ohio library had a song by that titled listed, and it gave the source as: Cowboy and Western Songs, Bramhall House, New York,1982. In that book, edited by Austin and Alta Fife, they credit Trailing the Cowboy, by Clifford P. Westermeier (1955).
In November, 2002, Meghan wrote to us and told us that poem also appears in Cowboy Lore, by Jules Verne Allen, pg 132. That book was first printed in 1933 by The Naylor Company and was reprinted as late as 1971. The poem appears in a slightly different version there, and is called "The Cowman's Prayer." No author is noted.
Jules Verne Allen was known as "The Singing Cowboy" and a 1929 letter from the Governor of New Mexico appears in the book, appointing him "to the office of 'The Singing Cowboy' and official singer of New Mexico's cowboy folk songs." In his introduction, Allen thanks his friends S. Omar Barker and Henry Herbert Knibbs, among others. The book includes a wide ranging "history" of cowboys, including subchapters titled "The movie Cowboy," "The real Cowboy," "His outfit," "Habits of Cattle," and more. There are chapters about cattle brands, a Cowboy dictionary, and a collection of "Songs of the Range" with musical notations.
The book is widely available through libraries and used book sources and you can find some of those through this Amazon link.
Versions of piece, as "Cowman's Prayer," were recorded by Glenn Ohrlin (on a 1974 LP, Cowboy Songs), Dale Evans (on Songs of the Old West), and Carl T. Sprague (on Cowtrails, Longhorns, and Tight Saddles: Cowboy Songs 1925-1929) and others.
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new 5/23/02
When He Put on That Stetson Hat...
P. writes:
There is a poem
"but when he put on that old Stetson hat
he was a king to me".
Please tell me who the author is and what the name of the poem is and where can I find the rest of it? I heard it in Prescott, Az at their 1st Cowboy Poetry Gathering. Prob. about 1988. Marshall Trimble was there, so was Vess Quinlan, Joe Austin - only remember that because of my sketchbook.
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new 1/26/02
Working for Wages and Living on Beans and Fat
Rick wrote to us:
I know this is a long shot in the dark, but I am searching for a poem my son and I heard on the radio years ago. I am looking for it because my son was 4 years old at the time we were going on my sons first deer hunting trip, it was about 4:00 in the morning and Charles Kuralt on the radio show was interviewing a cowboy, that cowboy told of a poem that went something like this:
So you want to be a cowboy
just buy yourself a hat
working for wages and
living on beans and fat...
Goes on with more but it was so meaningful to my son and I, that you could have heard a pin drop in that truck that morning. We still talk about it too this very day. Just thought you might have heard of this one, I realize there are so many cowboys such as this one out there that I thought just maybe.
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new 1/26/02
Freezin' Explodin' Apples and a Frozen Pard
Sammi in Montana wrote (after she helped with Donn's question above):
My question may be a bit off the topic of poetry, but is in regards to a cowboying book I read when I was very young. I can't remember title or author, but remember a couple of incidents that happened in the book:
The first is a scene where a few cowboys are riding in to town to the watering hole, and the weather is freezing cold, so cold in fact, that when the horses they were riding dropped their "apples," the exteriors froze before they hit the ground, and the interiors were still warm, so they exploded like firecrackers when they hit the ground.
The second scene is where the cowboy rides to a line camp to see a friend, only to find him dead. He knows the ground is too hard to dig a grave, and doesn't want the coyotes nibbling his bones, so he takes his blanket from his bedroll, wets it and wraps the dead fellow with it so it freezes solid.
(Funny what a kid will
remember!) I would like to find the book and read it again.
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us.
Cowboy Christmas
Frank wrote to us:
I'm hopin' ya'll can help me
locate a Christmas poem I heard fifteen years or so ago. It was on
"A Prairie Home Companion" (one of my few clues). The only
words I can recall in earnest about the poem are: "I knew it was
a cowboy Christmas 'cause all the angels were on horses, and had traces of
chaw runnin' their chin." I'm probably paraphrasing and I know
there are as many cowboy Christmas poems as there are cowboys but such a
magical poem couldn't be that obscure.
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Ole Cowpony
Bill in Montana wrote to us:
Do you know where I could find
the rest of this poem or the author's name?
Ole Cowpony
I've been thinkin little pony,
While the cowboy's make their grade,
Don't they ever stop to figure
You're just standing in the shade?
All them silver mounted makin's
That they hang upon your hide
Lends a touch of rare distinction
When they climb aboard to ride.
But it don't seem fair and even
When the cowboy crashes through,
Because he grabs off all the credit
And there's nothing left for you.
Bill added: I got the poem
second-hand from a librarian in Belgrade, Montana, who is looking for it on
behalf of a patron. She sent it to a librarian in Kalispell who passed
it along to me because I sing a lot of old-time western songs, but this one
has me up a stumped.
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A Horse Named "Klaska"
West Virginia librarian Ted wrote to us:
I have a patron who has been
searching for a book of cowboy [or western] poetry which, she thinks, was
published in the early 1900s. One of the poems mentions a horse called
"Klaska," which I have identified as a Chinook word. The
patron's elderly mother is named "Klaska," and the daughter is
trying to locate the book of poetry for a Christmas present.
Does "Klaska" the horse ring any bells with you?
We and others have suggested Lasca,
but that's not the poem they are looking for.
Have an answer for Ted? Email
us.
Cowboy Version of The Lord's Prayer
Jean wrote to us:
I am looking for the cowboy version of the Lord's Prayer. I have no idea who originated it. It is similar to the Red Skelton version of "The Pledge of Allegiance." Can you help? Thanks so much.
We told Jean that the closest we knew was Buckshot Dot's poem, "Bob Leatherwood's Wager," which is on her web site right here.
Have an answer for Jean?
Email
us.
Grumblin' Cowboy Gets Up Early and Comes to See Nature's Beauty
Butch wrote us from Idaho:
Several wears ago I heard a cowboy poet recite a poem in Glenns Ferry, Idaho. I don't remember his name but if I could describe to you the poem maybe you could give me an idea as to how I might get a copy. I know this is a long shot but maybe.
A cowboy gets up early, before sunup to go to work as he saddles his horse he thinks of all of those still in their nice warm beds and he grumbles to himself about having to get up so early when others get to sleep in. He saddles up and starts up the trail still grumbling. Then he smells the fresh morning air, hears a meadowlark, sees a buck deer, then as he watches the morning sun come up over the hill he realizes just how lucky he is to be able to get up early and see all these beautiful things of nature that he would miss if he stayed in bed like the others. That is about how I remembered it. It is a great poem with a great message. I would like to get a copy somehow. Can you help me?
Have an answer for Butch? Email us.
Idaho poet Denise McRea sent Butch this information and we followed up:
Perhaps the poem you are asking about is one by Rick Kuntz, of Dillon, Montana. He is probably in the phone book in the Dillon area. I have heard him do a very good poem that fits your description. He also does "Pert Near Perkins." Maybe you could contact Rick and see if it was his poem. Hope this helps.
We put Butch in touch with Rick Kuntz and he wrote:
I contacted Rick Kuntz and we had a nice visit he sent me a copy of his poem, "A Day Heaven Sent." It's a great poem close to the one I am looking for, but not it. I heard of a poet by the name of Baxter Black. Maybe I can find him on the internet and ask him about it.
updated 8/19/04
updated 6/10/04
updated 9/04/02
Black Beauty and a Colt Answered!!
June wrote to us in August
2001:
For several years now, I have been trying to find the words to a poem I've
heard recited at least twice. It is called "Black Beauty" and is
about an old grey or white mare with a beautiful black stud colt. Have
you heard it? Do you know it? Does someone have the
words? I have the first part of the poem on tape. According to the poet
reciting it (I do not know who), it was written by John Schnieder (?) in 1928.
What I have on tape goes like this:
I'd like to tell ya'all a story, I don't want to make you blue,
but if you'll bear with me just a moment, the words I speak are true.
For two years I'd been a pinin' and a scheming for to get,
my hands upon this black horse no one will ever get.
In July 2002, Chris Isaacs told us that Jesse Smith had recorded this poem, which is by Johnie Schneider. The poem is on Jesse Smith's tape, The Holstein Steer.
The
tape is full of great poetry by Jesse Smith and also includes "Black
Beauty" and "Bronco Twister's Prayer"
by Bruce Kiskaddon. The tape is available
for $12 postpaid from Jesse Smith, PO Box 122, Porterville,
CA 93258. On the tape, Jesse
Smith tells that the poem was written in 1923-24 by Schneider, a 1928 Word
Champion bull rider.
In 2003 we heard from Johnie Schneider's granddaughter.
In July 2004, cowgirl, poet, and columnist Rhonda Sedgwick Stearns, who is working on a bull riding book, made contact with the granddaughter and with Johnie Schneider's son Jim and his wife Cathy. They kindly shared photos and poetry that included the poem we've been searching for. Our thanks to them and to Rhonda for the material.
Rhonda says:
Since I'm researching and writing a book on the development of America's most unique extreme sport, I was absolutely thrilled to make contact with the family of our first official World's Champion Bull Rider Johnie Schneider! Finding out he was a great cowboy poet really iced the cake.
Johnie will have a chapter in BOUND FOR GLORY, as will his brother Frank Schneider, also a World's Champion Bull Rider.
Stay tuned for a feature with more poetry, photos, and information about Johnie Schnieder.
The version below of "The Black Beauty" is corrected from the transcription of a hand-written copy:
The Black Beauty
I'll tell you a story of a thing that makes me blue.
Please listen for a moment, for the words I speak are true.
For two years I's been riding and scheming for to get--
My hands upon a beauty that no one will ever get.I'd caught many a wild horse and never failed until,
I started on this youngster at the foot of Rocky Hill.
He was nothing but a baby, when first I saw him there--
Standing by his mother, a little old grey mare.And when he'd grown from colthood to a big strong handsome black
There was always by his hoofprints, the little old grey mare's track.
I lay awake many a night, trying to scheme a way
For to make a big black beauty, be my saddle horse some day.But this beauty always dodged them 'spite all that I could do.
Til one day I dug a pit -- down by the waterside,
I covered it over with sticks and leaves and climbed a tree to hide.
I hadn't been there very long; the sun was shining still,
When I saw the couple coming thru the rocks up on the hill.And as they came down closer to the waterside,
The old mare done the leading and the black stayed close beside
Another step was all it took till she'd be in the pit.
She bowed her head and snorted and then stepped back a bit.She turned her head as if to say -- there is danger here my son.
And at the twinkle of an eye, my right hand grasped my gun.
I jerked it from its holster, for now I knew the truth;
I'd never catch the beauty with the old mare running loose.I peeked out thru the branches -- drew a fine sight on my gun,
My finger clutched the trigger, and the old mare's days were done.
The great black reared straight in the air then sort of settled down
And stretched his long keen neck to smell the blood upon the ground.He blew a loud shrill whistle, his nostrils flaming red,
And with his sleek foreleg he stroked -- his mother lying dead
Then a sudden fear seemed to seize him and he whirled and with a bound --
Crashed into a pine tree than sank back to the ground.I climbed down thru the branches and ran to where he struck,
And lifting up his small keen head I found he broke his neck.
I knew that I was beaten as they both laid cold and still--
I laid the beauty's head back down and started up the hill.My heart was sure heavy with the whole thing on my mind,
For now I knew the very truth -- the black had been born blind.© 1923, Johnie Schneider
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
Johnie Schneider, 1931
Johnie Schneider died in 1982.
Have something to add? Email us.
updated 7/29/02
Myself & I (ANSWERED!)
Ping wrote us:
I have been trying to locate
this poetry "Myself & I" by Badger Clark. I heard it
during my recent visit to South Dakota. I can't seem to find the poetry in any
of the bookstore. I just loved it when I first heard it.
Thanks to Gene
O'Quinn and our new indexes of some of Badger Clark's books, we were able
to point Ping to the poem in Badger Clark's Sky Lines and Wood Smoke.
See our feature about Badger Clark here, which includes listings of the poems in his most popular books.
Want to comment further? Email us.
updated 7/26/02
I Must Come Back (ANSWERED!)
Melissa in Missouri wrote us:
I've been looking for a poem I think was written by Badger Clark. I though the title was "I Must Come Back" but am not sure! ... I think I saw it on a wall at Wall Drug in Wall, SD - years ago. The poem basically described how much one would miss the beauty of the earth once they had passed on.
Once again Gene O'Quinn came to the rescue, and Yvonne Hollenback also weighed in on this one, which can be found in Badger Clark's Sky Lines and Wood Smoke and in God of the Open.
See
our feature about Badger Clark here, which includes
listings of the poems in his most popular books.
Want to comment further? Email us.
updated 4/23/07
updated 6/23/05
updated 9/7/04
updated 6/27/02
Ridin' Nightherd, Wonder What the Poor Folk.... (ANSWERED!)
"Night Rider's Lament" by Mike (Michael) Burton and "Wealth" by Sam Jackson
2007:
Few songwriters have remained as mysterious as Michael Burton. In April, 2007, we received an email with this information:
If you are interested in the lyrics or in recording "Night Rider's Lament" written by Michael Burton, please visit the Michael Burton Music Web site www.nightriderslament.com or write them at P.O. Box 549, Vail, AZ 85641
"Night Rider's Lament" has been recorded by Garth Brooks, Ian Tyson, Chris LeDoux, Nanci Griffith, Don Edwards, and many other Country Western Artists.The site tells that Michael Burton and his wife live on their working ranch in Southern Arizona, and that "The origin of 'Night Rider's Lament' was an actual event in his life as written."
Below are some of the previous comments and questions about this song, and more:
Donn wrote to us:
I'm looking for a particular poem. I don't know who wrote it, nor do I know the title. All I really remember is the general gist of the verse and the last line. It is about a cowboy riding nightherd, I think, or maybe he is just riding drag, but he complains a bit about his situation and how other people make more money, all the while observing why he has chosen the cowboy life. The last line goes sorta like "I wonder what the poor folk are doin' tonight?" Got any idea of the poem I'm talking about? If so, do you know where I can find it?
Sandra Herl from WorkingCowboy.com wrote:
Could you be thinking of the Chris LeDoux song, Night Rider's Lament?
Sammi in Montana wrote:
Ian Tyson has the song, I
believe is called "Nightherd's Lament." This may be the same
song Chris LeDoux released.
It is about a cowboy that receives a letter from home, and while on nightherd
reads it by moonlight. His folks back home don't understand why he would give
up everything to became a cowboy. He finishes up his letter, tears off
the stamp for his friend, and when his relief rides up, he sees the letter and
says:
