Waddie Mitchell - Range Riders of the Night

Mustangs on the Move, Red Desert, Wyoming

Range Riders of the Night
by Waddie Mitchell


The rim rocks tower high...
The air is clear,
The wind blows cold...
There's only the horses tonight.

Withers swim like a silver sea
In the light of a big full moon,
In the strong and clear that comes to me
In the lilt of the first guard­'s tune.

S. Omar Barker - A Workin' Man's Roan

A Workin' Man's Roan

by S. Omar Barker, author, 1928

recited by Larry Schutte

You rode horses like that,

Kind of thin never got fat.

The old breed with a mustache on his lip,

Kind of high at the withers but low at the hip.

His ears are way up, he had bright wicked eyes,

Don't forget he's plenty cow-wise.

Cold mornings he'd buck, sometimes he'd kick,

No horse for a kid or a man that was sick.

Lord what a bundle of muscle and bone,

A horse for a cowboy that little blue roan.

Sue Wallis - Snowy Days

Snowy Days
by Sue Wallis

We liked the days when the snow blows in
From every way and shuts us in the house,
For then we'd have good eats
Like popcorn balls and mixed-nut meats,
And cake and fudge and other sweets.

We liked the days when the snow blows fast,
We'll build that man of snow at last –
So fat and sleek and cold clear through,
He looks just like our bankers do.

Wallace McRae - Days Long Ago

Days Long Ago

by Wallace McRae

Come with me to my home town, Cold Shrift, Montana.

Remember that sand rock on Emil's crik',
Where dad carved his name in '13?
It's been blasted down into rubble and
Interred by a drag-line machine.

Where Phetel's lived at the old Miler place
Where us kids stole melons at night?
We dozed it up in a funeral pire,
We torched it - it's gone alright.

There's a railroad lug in the cold storage shed
Where the bison kill-site use to be,
McGive's place is gone and Ambose's too –
Abel Fortzes' a ranch refugee.

But things are boomin' - we've got this new school
That's envied across the whole state!
When folks up and ask 'How's things go’ in down there'
I grin like a fool and say 'Great!'
Great God how we're do’ in, we're rollin' in dough!
As they tear and they ravage the earth –
And nobody knows... and nobody cares...
About things of intrinsic worth.

S. Omar Barker - Cow'pin Moo-sic

Cowboy with Range Cattle

Cow'pin Moo-sic

S. Omar Barker, author, 1928
as recited by Larry Schutte


You ask me "Well, what's a beller?"
A beller's a bawl,
It ain't exactly like a moo
Nor yet quite like a squall.
 
Cows sure'll 'moo to coax their calves
From close by in the brush,
And bawl at night at weanin' time
Until it was that she hush.
 
But when she beller's -
That's got a heap more meanin'
Than just plain “cow'pin moo-sic”
You hear when calves are weaning.
 
For instance, let a range cow smell
Fresh blood from some dead critter,
Than she'll sure “enough beller”
Like she thinks all hell will get her.
 
Find it down about her foot –
And the weird sounds she makes,
It's enough to give a man
The chills and shakes.

Then all the cattle 'round about
Will come snuffing at a trot,
To help her beller' for the dead
When they reach that spot.

There ain't no squall a banshee makes
To make your neck hair rise
Like that there bovine blood call
As it echoes to the skies.
 
A calf will beller' when
He's roped or branded –
And a cow she'll beller'
When she's on the prod.
 
And I better tell ya' how to tell a beller'
From a bawl for it ain't alone that sound,
'Cause a bawl is mostly pointed up –
But a beller's toward the ground.
 
And if yer still somewhat in doubt
Of these beller' facts,
A bawl becomes a beller'
When it's tongue is stickin' out.

Ever curious cows

Riding Range at Day’s End

A settling winter’s day over snow-capped peaks

Sue Wallis - A Thousand Pretty Ponies

Rangeland Horses

A Day Often Spoke Of,

A Thousand Pretty Ponies

by Sue Wallis

Come on you little darlin's and let's go watch your daddy gather

A thou­sand head of horses out of grassy Garven Basin.

They are running altogether as they have been all this winter

And it is a sight that we may never chance to see again.

So let's hurry up the mountain, watch and sit and wait there

To see a thousand pretty ponies pouring down off Garven's Range.

A hard day of riding o'er a bunch of fresh horses and finally

We have them all lined out and lopin'.

We lead them toward the trail and we cut off their choices,

'till they headed uphill just like we'd been hopin'.

Now I see my sweetheart, the kid's and they're a'waving –

Even the wee one's from thereon are bidin'.

I thought that they would like the sight of us gatherin'

A good thou­sand horses is the sight worth the trip.

Over yonder see them comin' there's your daddy and he's running

With a thousand head of horses down from grassy Graven Basin.

They are ripplin' like a river with their manes and tails a'flying,

Flashing, glinting colors, proudest thing I've ever seen!

And see your daddy swaying as he comes a'riding hard an' spurring

Leading all those pretty ponies pouring down off Garven's Range.

Lewis Carroll - 'Tis the Voice of the Lobster

"'Tis the voice of the Lobster: I heard him declare
'You have baked me too brown, I must sugar my hair.'
As a duck with its eyelids, so he with his nose
Trims his belt and his buttons, and turns out his toes.
When the sands are all dry, he is gay as a lark,
And will talk in contemptuous tones of the Shark:
But, when the tide rises and sharks are around,
His voice has a timid and tremulous sound."

"I passed by his garden, and marked, with one eye,
How the Owl and the Panter were sharing a pie:
The Panther took pie-crust, and gravy, and meat,
While the Owl had the dish as its share of the treat.
When the pie was all finished, the Owl, as a boon,
Was kindly permitted to pocket the spoon:
While the Panther received knife and fork with a growl,
And concluded the banquet by [eating the owl.]

 

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll - The Lobster Quadrille

"Will you walk a little faster?" said a whiting to a snail,
"There's a porpoise close behind us, and he's treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle - will you come and join the dance?

    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you,
          will you join the dance?
    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you,
          won't you join the dance?"

"You can really have no notion how delightful it would be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters out to sea!"
But the snail replied "Too far, too far!", and gave a look askance -
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.

    Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
    Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

"What matters it how far we go?" his scaly friend replied.
"There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The farther off from England the nearer is to France -
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.

    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you,
          will you join the dance?
    Will you, won't you, will you, won't you,
          won't you join the dance?"

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll - A Game of Fives

Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One:
Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun.

Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six:
Sitting down to lessons - no more time for tricks.

Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven:
Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven!

Five winsome girls, from Twenty to Sixteen:
Each young man that calls, I say "Now tell me which you MEAN!"

Five dashing girls, the youngest Twenty-one:
But, if nobody proposes, what is there to be done?

Five showy girls - but Thirty is an age
When girls may be ENGAGING, but they somehow don't ENGAGE.

Five dressy girls, of Thirty-one or more:
So gracious to the shy young men they snubbed so much before!

* * * *

Five PASSE girls - Their age? Well, never mind!
We jog along together, like the rest of human kind:
But the quondam "careless bachelor" begins to think he knows
The answer to that ancient problem "how the money goes"!

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll - A Sea Dirge

There are certain things - as, a spider, a ghost,
The income - tax, gout, an umbrella for three -
That I hate, but the thing that I hate the most
Is a thing they call the Sea.

Pour some salt water over the floor -
Ugly I'm sure you'll allow it to be:
Suppose it extended a mile or more,
THAT'S very like the Sea.

Beat a dog till it howls outright -
Cruel, but all very well for a spree:
Suppose that he did so day and night,
THAT would be like the Sea.

I had a vision of nursery-maids;
Tens of thousands passed by me -
All leading children with wooden spades,
And this was by the Sea.

Who invented those spades of wood?
Who was it cut them out of the tree?
None, I think, but an idiot could -
Or one that loved the Sea.

It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float
With 'thoughts as boundless, and souls as free':
But, suppose you are very unwell in the boat,
How do you like the Sea?

There is an insect that people avoid
(Whence is derived the verb 'to flee').
Where have you been by it most annoyed?
In lodgings by the Sea.

If you like your coffee with sand for dregs,
A decided hint of salt in your tea,
And a fishy taste in the very eggs -
By all means choose the Sea.

And if, with these dainties to drink and eat,
You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
Then - I recommend the Sea.

For I have friends who dwell by the coast -
Pleasant friends they are to me!
It is when I am with them I wonder most
That anyone likes the Sea.

They take me a walk: though tired and stiff,
To climb the heights I madly agree;
And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,
They kindly suggest the Sea.

I try the rocks, and I think it cool
That they laugh with such an excess of glee,
As I heavily slip into every pool
That skirts the cold, cold Sea.

Lewis Carroll


 

Lewis Carroll - Speak Roughly to Your Little Boy

And with that she began nursing her child again, singing a sort of lullaby to it as she did so,
and giving it a violent shake at the end of every line:

Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes;
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases."

CHORUS
(in which the cook and the baby joined): -- --

"Wow! wow! wow!"

While the Duchess sang the second verse of the song, she kept tossing the baby violently up
and down, and the poor little thing howled so, that Alice could hardly hear the words: -- --

"I speak severely to my boy,
I beat him when he sneezes;
For he can thoroughly enjoy
The pepper when he pleases!"

CHORUS

"Wow! wow! wow!"


Lewis Carroll


 

Lewis Carroll - You Are Old, Father William

You are old, father William," the young man said,
    "And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
    Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
    "I feared it would injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
    Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
    And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
    Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
    "I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --
    Allow me to sell you a couple."

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
    For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
    Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
    And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
    Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth; one would hardly suppose
    That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose --
    What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
    Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
    Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!"

Lewis Carroll


 

Lewis Carroll - The Walrus and the Carpenter

"The sun was shining on the sea,
    Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
    The billows smooth and bright --
And this was odd, because it was
    The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
     Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
    After the day was done --
"It's very rude of him," she said,
    "To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,
    The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
    No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead --
    There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
    Such quantities of sand:
`If this were only cleared away,'
    They said, `it would be grand!'

`If seven maids with seven mops
    Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
    `That they could get it clear?'
`I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
    And shed a bitter tear.

`O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
    The Walrus did beseech.
`A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
    Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
    To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
    But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
    And shook his heavy head --
Meaning to say he did not choose
    To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
    All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
    Their shoes were clean and neat --
And this was odd, because, you know,
    They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
    And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
    And more, and more, and more --
All hopping through the frothy waves,
    And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
    Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
    Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
    And waited in a row.

`The time has come,' the Walrus said,
    `To talk of many things:
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing-wax --
    Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot --
    And whether pigs have wings.'

`But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
    `Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
    And all of us are fat!'
`No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
    They thanked him much for that.

`A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
    `Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
    Are very good indeed --
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
    We can begin to feed.'

`But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
    Turning a little blue.
`After such kindness, that would be
    A dismal thing to do!'
`The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
    `Do you admire the view?

`It was so kind of you to come!
    And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
    `Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf --
    I've had to ask you twice!'

`It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
    `To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
    And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
    `The butter's spread too thick!'

`I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
    `I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
     Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
     Before his streaming eyes.

`O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
     `You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
     But answer came there none --
And this was scarcely odd, because
     They'd eaten every one.

Lewis Carroll


 

Lewis Carroll - How Doth the Little Crocodile

How doth the little crocodile
  Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
  On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
  How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in
  With gently smiling jaws!"

Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll - Echoes

Lady Clara Vere de Vere
Was eight years old, she said:
Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread.

She took her little porringer:
Of me she shall not win renown:
For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her
down.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid?
There stands the Inspector at thy door:
Like a dog, he hunts for boys who know not two and two are four."

"Kind words are more than coronets,"
She said, and wondering looked at me:
"It is the dead unhappy night, and I must hurry home to tea."

Lewis Carroll