by Joe Cone
You kin forgive a
backin’ hoss,
Or one that cannot stand;
You kin excuse one
that will toss
You off into the sand.
You kin forgive
one runs away
An’ slams you g’inst the wall;
But drat the
four-legged popinjay
Who will not move at all.
Abe
Crockett went to Langdon once to buy a brand new hoss;
He
said he’d buy the best durn nag that he could come across.
“I’ve
had ol’ skates an’ rackabones an’ plugs an’ runaways
As
well as wind-broke critters too,” said Crockett, “all my days;
But
now I’m goin’ to have a hoss, an animal that’s sound,
An’
one that, when you crack a whip, will git right o’er the ground,
O,
yes,” said Abe, “I’ve got all through with hosses poor an’ slow;
Next hoss I buy
Hez got to fly,
He’s got to up an’ go!”
So
Abe he fetched his trotter home an’ scrubbed an’ rubbed him down,
An’
hitched him in his two-wheel gig an’ sailed down through the town.
He
whooped her up by Stoke’s store, then out around the green,
An’
come up through the street ag’in the fastest ever seen.
He
pulled up with a grand saloot in front o’ Stoke’s store
Ab’
ev’rybuddy come outside to look the critter o’er.
They
studied him from head to foot, from
teeth to ankles, shin,
An’ all agree
They’d never seed
A hoss could equal him.
Ame
Green was there, Jed martin, too, Bill Jones an’ Cap’n Joe,
Hen
Billings, too, an’ Uncle Ez’ a-takin’ in the show.
Each
one could tell a perfect hoss, an’ ev’ryone agreed,
That
Abe’s was perfect in his lines as well as in his speed.
Abe
started homeward by an’ by – what happened on the way
Is
no one’s bizniz but his own, an’ ain’t for me to say.
Next
time he come to Stoke’s store he walked, says they “What now?”
“That hoss,” said he “’s
Too fast for me,
I’m skeerd of him, I swow!”
“By
gum, he ain’t too fast fur me,” says Hiram Hutchins then;
“I’ll
give you what he cost ye, Abe, if you will tell me when.
An’
so it come to pass that Hi soon owned the firey nag,
An’
took a whirl down through the street chock full of joy an’ brag.
He
was the envy of the store an’ had a chance to sell,
But
Hiram simply winked his eye an’ bid ‘em all farewell.
But
strange to say within a week Hi’s courage didn’t last;
“No use,” says he,
“I must agree
That hoss is too durn fast!”
Hen’
Billin’s then spoke up an’ said, “I’d like to see the skate
That
knocks out that much speed fur me; I haven’t up to this date.
I’ll
take that hoss an’ show you how to drive a tutter, see?
You
feelers ‘pear to all be scat, that’s how it looks to me.”
An’
so the bargain it was clinched, an’ Billin’s went with Hi
To
git the hoss which long had been the apple of his eye.
“I’ll
show you how to drive,” says he, “a hoss that’s got some snap;”
An’ so he went
Down town full bent
In Hiram’s two-wheel trap.
Hen
Billin’s passed the village street, then swept by Stoke’s store;
But
when he come to town again he walked it as of yore.
An’
in the village paper soon appeared an ad quite small
“A
Blooded Trottin’ Hoss For Sale, Hen Billin’s.” That was all.
An
when the hoss was sold an’ gone off to a distant place
Hen
took his seat around the stove once more with smilin’ face.
“I
say” says Cap’n Joe to Hen, a twinkle in his eye,
“That hoss too fast
Fur you at last,
The same as Abe an’ Hi?”
“Too
fast? Not much!” Hen Billin’s said, “not when he’s on the go;
The
trouble is he’d stop too quick, if you are bound to know.
He
was the durndest fastest one I ever seed, that hoss;
Also
the fastest stopper, too, I ever come across.
He’d
pitch you ten foot o’er his head, an’ when he’d stop, waal, say,
They
warn’t a thing could make him move inside uv half a day.
O,
yes, he’s plenty fast enough, great speed you understand,
But when I ‘whoa’
I wanter know
‘Bout where I’m goin’ to land!”
Uv
all the hosses on the pike,
The fast ones or the slow,
The
meanest one is that ol’ type
Who stops an’ then won’t go.
A
club of wood? O, I don’t think,
He’d stay till come the night;
The
only thing ‘twill make him wink
Is bran’ new dynermite!
-
Chorus of the Horse Club Song
c.
April 18, ’10
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