The Cheyenne Daily Leader

For the Cheyenne Leader,

THE WIDOW

I have wondered several times
Of what state she's a native,
Whether she is from foreign clime
A human or creative:
Whether she is from Michigan,
Wisconsin or Nebraska.
I can't find out unless I can
Prevail on Fred to ask her,

She's too high-toned for Omaha,
I'll leave it to a Jury
She cannot be from Arkansas,
From Texas or Missouri,
For on her you can bet your pile,
As she is far from lazy,
And she can just get up in style:
"You bet you," "she's a daisy."

The other day I saw the "Kid"
Come flying o'er the hill:
He rode the BO horse "he did!"
And by his side was Bill;
Bill was on Calamity,
Who bucked at every jump:
You know that horse,
Why, damn it, he made neither lash nor thump,

The kids they rode the bronchos well
By dint of spurs and quirt,
And pulled up at the Big Corral
With many a desperate jerk,

Where Kimme and the fearless John
Perform heroic deeds:
They operate each day upon
Unmanageable steeds
Who fire breathe and paw the stones,
Defying human forces
With iron ribs and steel back bones

The Rocky Mountain Horses.

Said Bill, we're just in from Cheyenne,
And, Boys-we've rode-like hell!
But here. quite out of breath he ran
And the Kid began to tell
How they had heard in town by chance
That two young bloods or three
Were coming out upon the ranch
The widow for to see.

Now, no resistance I could put,
Or at the town bloods scoff
For I am but a "tenderfoot"
And cannot "stand them off."

Now if I tried to court this maid.
I tell you on the level
I'd never "get there" I'm afraid
I'd fail, sure as the devil:

For if a fellow meaning "biz'
Desired for to try,
I do not see what chance there is,
He'd never "get there. Eli."

For this claim I could pre-empt,
It's as I intimated
There's too much risk in the attempt,
I might get "salivated;'

For it I won this lady gay.
And met with strong John Kelly.
He'd "paralyze" me right away
And pound me to a jelly.

Tim Kinney is a married man,
No danger is in him;
He might advise me of a plan-
I'm not afraid of Jim.

But at the Brick House it is said
There's half a score of men
With Fred (the cultivated Fred),
And when I think again
That Fred's not only over there.
But there's a finer man
Who's likely to adore the fair:
It is the Chinaman.

I fear I'd surely make a miss,
For here upon the Farm
I recollect besides all this.
There's more cause for alarm.

Here other candidates are found
Who in the game will mingle:
First, McFarrell's on the ground,
For Farrell he is single,

With Texas Frank and Kansas Bill
Their chances they will draw,
And Kelly, who is keeping still.
And Bill from Omaha.

SILVER SPURS,
Near Cheyenne. July. 1883.