You can go to a cowboy hungry, go to him wet or dry, And ask him for a few dollars in change and he will not deny; He will pull out his pocket-book and hand you out a note,-- Oh, they are the fellows to strike, boys, whenever you are broke. You can go to their ranches and often stay for weeks, And when you go to leave, boys, they'll never charge you a cent; But when they go to town, boys, you bet their money is spent. They walk right up, they take their drinks and they pay for every one. They never ask your pardon, boys, for a thing that they have done. They go to the ball-room, and swing the pretty girls around; They ride their bucking broncos, and wear their broad-brimmed hats; Their California saddles, their pants below their boots, You can hear their spurs go jing-a-ling, or perhaps somebody shoots. Come all you soft and tenderfeet, if you want to have some fun, Come go among the cowboys and they'll show you how it's done; But take the kind advice of me as I gave it to you before, For if you don't, they'll order you off with an old Colt's forty-four. BOB STANFORD Bob Stanford, he's a Texas boy, He lives down on the flat; His trade is running a well-drill, But he's none the worse for that. He is neither rich nor handsome, But, unlike the city dude, His manners they are pleasant Instead of flip and rude. His people live in Texas, That is his native home, But like many other Western lads He drifted off from home. He came out to New Mexico A fortune for to make, He punched the bottom out of the earth And never made a stake. So he came to Arizona And again set up his drill To punch a hole for water, And he's punching at it still. He says he is determined To make the business stick Or spend that derned old well machine And all he can get on tick. I hope he is successful And I'll help him if I can, For I admire pluck and ambition In an honest working man. So keep on going down, Punch the bottom out, or try, There is nothing in a hole in the ground That continues being dry. CHARLIE RUTLAGE Another good cow-puncher has gone to meet his fate, I hope he'll find a resting place within the golden gate. Another place is vacant on the ranch of the X I T, 'Twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he. The first that died was Kid White, a man both tough and brave, While Charlie Rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave, Caused by a cow-horse falling while running after stock; 'Twas on the spring round-up,--a place where death men mock. He went forward one morning on a circle through the hills, He was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills; But when it came to finish up the work on which he went, Nothing came back from him; for his time on earth was spent.