"'After the round-ups are over, after the shipping is all done, I am going to see my mother before my money is all gone. My mother's heart is breaking, breaking for me, and that's all. And with God's help I will see her when work is done this Fall.'" A pause followed his last words and the singer limped in behind the counter. "Well, that's all, now," he said, waving her away, "go on home, child—can't you see it makes me feel powerful bad?" The girl smiled with the sweet melancholy of her race. "I like to feel bad," she said. "Sing about the wind." Angevine Thorne looked down upon her and shook his head sadly. "Ah, Marcelina," he said, "you are growing up to be a woman." Then he sighed and began again:— "That very same night this poor cowboy went out to stand his guard. The wind was blowing fiercely and the rain was falling hard. The cattle they got frightened and ran in a mad stampede. Poor boy, he tried to head them while riding at full speed. Riding in the darkness so loudly he did shout, A-trying to head the cattle, a-trying to turn them about, When his saddled night-horse stumbled and upon him did fall. Now the poor boy will not see his mother when work is done this Fall." "And now the rest—how he died," breathed Marcelina, and once more the troubadour smiled. "We picked him up so gently and laid him on his bed, A-standing all around the poor cowboy, a-thinking he was dead, When he opened wide his blue eyes, looked around and said: 'Boys, I think those are the last steers I shall ever head. So Bill, you take my saddle, and Charley, you take my bed, And George, you take my six-shooter and be sure that I am dead. I am going to a new range, for I hear my Master's call, And will not see my aged mother when work is done this Fall. "'After the round-ups were over, after the shipping was all done, I was going to see my mother before my money was all gone. My mother's heart is breaking, breaking for me and that's all, And if God had spared my absence I would have seen her When work was done this Fall.'"