What wonder? She was beauty's queen, And good beyond compare; Moreover, it was known she was Her wealthy father's heir! Now when the Injuns saw that band They trembled with affright, And yet they thought the cheapest thing To do was stay and fight. So sturdily they stood their ground, Nor would their prisoner yield, Despite the wrath of Willie Clow And gallant Dady Field. Oh, never fiercer battle raged Upon the Waller Lot, And never blood more freely flowed Than flowed for Sissy Knott! [Illustration: KENDALL EVANS.--"HE RODE A HICKORY LATH IN THE FAMOUS BATTLE OF 'THE WALLER LOT'" (NOTE BY EUGENE FIELD ON PHOTOGRAPH). From a photograph by Coover, Chicago.] An Injun chief of monstrous size Got Kendall Evans down, And Robbie James was soon o'erthrown By one of great renown. And Dady Field was sorely done, And Willie Clow was hurt, And all that gallant cowboy band Lay wallowing in the dirt. But still they strove with might and main Till all the Waller Lot Was strewn with hair and gouts of gore-- All, all for Sissy Knott! Then cried the maiden in despair: "Alas, I sadly fear The battle and my hopes are lost, Unless some help appear!" Lo, as she spoke, she saw afar The rescuer looming up-- The pride of all Buena Park, Clow's famous yellow pup! [Illustration: WILLIAM AND KENT CLOW.--"TWO REDOUBTABLE HEROES OF 'THE WALLER LOT'" (NOTE BY EUGENE FIELD ON PHOTOGRAPH). From a photograph by D.R. Coover, Chicago.] "Now, sick 'em, Don," the maiden cried, "Now, sick 'em, Don!" cried she; Obedient Don at once complied-- As ordered, so did he. He sicked 'em all so passing well That, overcome by fright, The Indian horde gave up the fray And safety sought in flight. They ran and ran and ran and ran O'er valley, plain, and hill; And if they are not walking now, Why, then, they're running still. The cowboys rose up from the dust With faces black and blue; "Remember, beauteous maid," said they, "We've bled and died for you! "And though we suffer grievously, We gladly hail the lot That brings us toils and pains and wounds For charming Sissy Knott!" But Sissy Knott still wailed and wept, And still her fate reviled; For who could patch her dolly up-- Who, who could mend her child? Then out her doting mother came, And soothed her daughter then; "Grieve not, my darling, I will sew Your dolly up again!" Joy soon succeeded unto grief, And tears were soon dried up, And dignities were heaped upon Clow's noble yellow pup. Him all that goodly company Did as deliverer hail-- They tied a ribbon round his neck, Another round his tail. And every anniversary day Upon the Waller Lot They celebrate the victory won For charming Sissy Knott. And I, the poet of these folk, Am ordered to compile This truly famous history In good old ballad style.