The Plaza De Los Toros offers seats, Some deep in shade, on some the fierce sun beats; These for the don, those for the rustic clown. _Se corren los toros!_ And Juan brings his Pepita into town. Pepita sits, so young and sweet and fresh, The sun shines on her hair's dusky mesh. Her day of days, how soon it will be flown! _Se corren los toros!_ And Juan's brought his Pepita into town. The bull is harried till the governor's word Bids the Diestro give the agile sword; Then shower the bravos and the roses down! _'Sta muerto el toro!_ And Juan takes his Pepita back from the town. _L. Worthington Green._ THE COWBOY'S VALENTINE SAY, Moll, now don't you 'llow to quit A-playin' maverick? Sech stock should be corralled a bit An' hev a mark 't 'll stick. Old Val's a-roundin'-up today Upon the Sweetheart Range, 'N me a-helpin', so to say, Though this yere herd is strange To me--'n yit, ef I c'd rope Jes _one_ to wear my brand I'd strike f'r Home Ranch on a lope, The happiest in the land. Yo' savvy who I'm runnin' so, Yo' savvy who I be; Now, can't yo' take that brand--yo' know,-- The [Symbol: Heart] M-I-N-E. _C. F. Lummis._ A COWBOY'S HOPELESS LOVE I'VE heard that story ofttimes about that little chap A-cryin' for the shiney moon to fall into his lap, An' jes a-raisin' merry hell because he couldn't git The same to swing down low so's he could nab a-holt of it, An' I'm a-feelin' that-a-way, locoed I reckon, wuss Than that same kid, though maybe not a-makin' sich a fuss,-- A-goin' round with achin' eyes a-hankerin' fer a peach That's hangin' on the beauty tree, too high fer me to reach. I'm jes a rider of the range, plumb rough an' on-refined, An' wild an' keerless in my ways, like others of my kind; A reckless cuss in leather chaps, an' tanned an' blackened so You'd think I wuz a Greaser from the plains of Mexico. I never learnt to say a prayer, an' guess my style o' talk, If fired off in a Sunday School would give 'em all a shock; An' yet I got a-mopin' round as crazy as a loon An' actin' like the story kid that bellered fer the moon. I wish to God she'd never come with them bright laughin' eyes,-- Had never flashed that smile that seems a sunburst from the skies,-- Had stayed there in her city home instead o' comin' here To visit at the ranch an' knock my heart plumb out o' gear. I wish to God she'd talk to me in a way to fit the case,-- In words t'd have a tendency to hold me in my place,-- Instead o' bein' sociable an' actin' like she thought Us cowboys good as city gents in clothes that's tailor bought.