He was little en peaked en thin, en narry a no-account horse, 142
His mammy's a burro, his daddy ’s a horse, 104
Hush-a-by, Long Horn, your pards are all sleepin’, 65
I buckled on a brace of guns and sallied to Wyoming, 160
I can take the wildest bronco in the tough old woolly West, 71
I love not Colorado, 161
I’m a howler from the prairies of the West! 9
I struck the trail in seventy-nine, 69
I thought one spring, just for fun, 146
I took a trip this summer to the market, 3
I’ve been upon the prairie, 11
I’ve cooked you in the strongest gypsum water, 68
I’ve swum the Colorado where she runs down close to hell, 66
In readin’ the story of early days, it's a cause of much personal pain, 101
In seventy-six, or thereabouts, when the Black Hills made the strike, 115
It was chuck-time on the round-up, and we heard “Old Doughy” shout, 24
Just one year ago to-day, 93
Last night, as I lay on the prairie, 40
List, all you California boys, 18
Little gal, I’m not a singer; if I were I’d sing to you, 98
Little Joe, the wrangler, will never wrangle more, 96
Living long lives in Sonora, nested ’mongst mountains high, 63
Morn’s breakin’ over de ole Ranch before de moon’s gone ’way, 122
My country, ’t is of thee, 105
My foot in the stirrup, my pony won’t stand, 119
My love is a rider, wild broncos he breaks, 14
My lover is a cowboy, he ’s brave and kind and true, 86
Never was no gal like Mollie, 48
Now, O Lord, please lend me thine ear, 52
