Chapter 9.

THE BEAUTIFUL STEER.

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Oh, the steer, the beautiful steer,

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Kicking the fleas from the point of his ear.

 

Flapping' its tail in its frolicsome glee.

 

Hopping about like a Snake-river flea.

 

Bellowing!

 

Roaring!

 

Thundering along!

 

Filling the air with its steerical song,

 

Till the rumble from its lung-laden pits

Scares timid jack-rabbits and wolves into fits.

 

To me there is nothing on earth half so dear

As the long-horned, slim-bodied Texican steer.

 

How often I wish that I was a steer.

 

With a long shiny horn at the butt of each ear;

 

With a clear, fearless eye, and a tapering tail

That would snap like a whip in the maddening gale.

How I’d beller

And roar!

 

And paw up the ground!

 

And lope over the hills with a thundering sound.

And snort like a terror, and hump up my back

When I saw the wild cow-boy pursuing my track —

And I’d laugh at his oaths as he fell to the rear.

 

Oh, I’d be a Jo-dandy if I was a steer!

 

I once roped a beautiful steer — but I fell,

 

Fell from my pony with ear piercing' yell!

 

Fell with the lariat fast to my wrist!

 

Fell to be drag'g'ed through the gfrass wet with mist.

 

Bumping"!

 

Rolling-!

 

Grunting' I went!

 

A full mile a minute, or I don’t want a cent.

 

The g'ravel and g-rass yanked the hide from my nose

And ruined a pair of forty-cent hose;

 

Aye, even my bustle was thrown out of g-ear

By the frolicsome freaks of that beautiful steer.