Spite o' you, when I blame please."
Well, I don't just clear remember
All the doin's that took place,
But you'll know the story better
If you'll look at Johnson's face.
As we rode we clinched and wrestled,
Then we tumbled to the ground,
Tore the bunch grass up, and cactus,
For a hundred yards around.


3

Got him down, and in the scrimmage
Felt my lasso on the ground,
Tied his legs and bent him over,
Bound him like he's sittin' down;
Hustled quick to mount my pony,
Threw the loose end round the horn,
Thought I'd learn that Mr. Johnson
He'd missed out in bein' born.
Then I dragged him on the prairie,
Through a Turk's Head cactus bed,
Prickly pears and shoestring bushes,--
'Twasn't decent what he said.
He's so dev'lish fond of settin',
Thought I'd fix his settin' end
So's he'd be more kinder careful
Settin' by that girl again.