Abe Crockett And The Hoss Show

Abe Crockett groomed his chestnut nag, an’ hourly rubbed him down

Until he hed the slickest coat uv any hoss in town;

He combed his mane an’ ragged tail an’ washed his sprawlin’ feet

An’ walked him up an’ down with pride along ol’ Gungy street.

“Fur heaven sakes,” Ame Green remarked, “What be you up to now?”

“Hoss show” says Crockett, airily, “Noo York hoss show, I swoon.”

An’ then Ame Green an’ all the rest jest laffed an’ laffed agin,

To see the elevation uv Abe Crockett’s whiskered chin.

“Hoss show,” says Green, disgustedly, “why durn ye, don’t ye know

Down to Noo York your bloomin’ nag it won’t stan’ ha’f a show?

Hoss show! They ain’t no show fur him, not ha’f a show, I say,”

An’ then the setters they all laffed the usual Gungy way.

Abe Crockett he stuck up his nose; twuz more than he could stan’;

“You fellers are a durn good set to criticize my plan.

You set around day after day an’ let the world go by,

An’ by an’ by you’ll find yourselves all landed high an’ dry;

I may not stan’ a ha’f a show, but thet’s up to myself;

The on’y show you fellers got is what you make yourself.

Sept. 4, 1911