Little
Joe the
Wrangler will wrangle nevermore
His days with the
Roundup they are o 'er
Was a year ago last
April when he rode into our camp
Just a little
Texas stray and nothing more
Was late in the evening when
he rode into
to our camp on a little
Texas pony he called
Joe.
With his broken shoes and overalls,
a tougher looking kid you nev
er in your lives before did so.
His saddle was a
Texas type built many years ago,
an
OK spur on one foot lightly swung.
With his bag rolling up,
cotton sack too loosely tied behind,
An d a canteen from his
saddle horn was slung
He said he had to leave his
home, his pa had married twice
His new ma hooked him every day or two
So he saddled up old
John one night and lit a chuck away
He said he'd try to
paddle his own canoe
He said if we would give him work he'd
do the best he could
Though he didn't know straight
up about a cow
So the bossy cut him out of
bound and kindly took him on
He's sorta like this little kid somehow
He learned to wrangle horses and
learned to know them all
And get them in a daybreak if he could
And to trail the old chuck wagon and
al ways hitch the team
And helped the cook each evening,
Russell
Wood
We had hardly reached the
Paithos
And the weather, it was fine
We were camped out on the
south side in a draw
When an or der come in blowin'
And we doubled up our guards
It took every one of us to hold them in
Little
Joe, the wrangler,
was called out with the rest
Scarcely had the little fella
reached the herd
When the cattle they stam
peded like a hailstorm they fled
And everyone was ridin' for the lead
Amid the streaks of lightning there
was one horse up ahead
He was tryin' to check the
leaders in their speed
It was
Little
Joe the
Wrangler with a slipper o 'er his head
He was ridin' on the rocket in the lead
At last we got them millin'
And kinda quieted down
And the extra guards back
to the wagon went
But there was one a -missin'
We could see it at a glance
Was our little
Texas stray boy
Wrangler
Joe
Next morning, just at daybreak
We found where
Rocket fell
Down in a washout twenty feet below
Beneath his horse his life was gone
His forehead rugged stale
Was our little
Texas stray boy
Wrangler
Joe