The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #67126   Message #1120445
Posted By: Abby Sale
21-Feb-04 - 11:23 AM
Thread Name: Origins: Old Chisholm Trail
Subject: Lyr Add: OLD CHISHOLM TRAIL
(Robert Gordon was the first head of the Folk Song Archive - 1928-1932 and an extraordinary collector of field material. "Inferno" was not a separate effort but simply the bawdy material deleted from his other manuscripts.)

Reproduction of the following is only permitted with full attribution to:

The Robert W. Gordon "Inferno" Collection in the Archive of Folk Song, Library of Congress "Adventure" MSS

From Charles E. Roe, Hudson, Massachusetts, August 25. 1930       #3781


THE OLD CHISHOLM TRAIL

Looking for a job, and I went broke flat.
Got a job riding on the Double O flat.

Signs pinned up on the bunk-house door,
"Punchers allowed at a quarter after four."

"Round up and saddle up some old pitching hoss,
If you can't ride him, you're fired by the boss."

As I come a-riding 'cross the OO range,
I was thinking of my sweetheart that I left on the ranch.

I rode on with the old man's daughter,
Guess I said a few words what I hadn't oughter.

I told her that I'd love her like I loved my life,
I asked her how she'd like to a cowpuncher's wife.

Said she'd like it fine, but I better see her dad,
For he got the dough, and it might make him mad.

I went to the old man, as all lovers oughter,
I says, "Old Man, I'm in love with your daughter."

He grins and he points to the Double O roan,
That's piled every puncher that ever rode alone.

Says, "If you can ride that hoss, and not pull leather,
You and my daughter can throw you things together."

Went to the hoss, and slammed on my saddle,
Best damn rider that ever punched cattle.

All the punchers yelled, as all punchers oughter,
For they knew I was riding for the Old Man's daughter.

Jumped in the saddle and gave a little yell,
What's going to happen is damned hard to tell.

Spurred him on the shoulder. and hit him with my quirt,
Gave four jumps, and rolled me in the dirt.

Went to the Old Man to have a little chat,
Hit him in the face with my old felt hat.

Went to the girl, and offered her a quarter,
Says she, "Go to Hell! I'm a cow-puncher's daughter!"

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    THE OLD CHISHOLM TRAIL      (Page 2)

Offered her a dollar, and she took it in her hand,
Punched me in the belly, says, "Well, I'll be damned!."

Threw my arms around her and laid her an the grass,
To show her the wiggle of a cow-puncher's ----.

The hair on her belly was a strawberry brown,
The crabs on her m----- were jumping up and down.

Took my old jockey to the watering trough,
Washed him and I scrubbed him till his head fell off.

In about nine days, when I looked for to see,
Chancres on my p----- were big as a pea.

She found it out, and called me a kid,
Told me to remember her, and by God, I did!

Wrote her a letter, don't think I lied,
Said, I'm leaving Texas, fast as I can ride.

Know a little Injun, damn' pretty squaw,
Guess I'll go and see her, for I leave for Arkansas.

Going to leave Texas, going to head for home,
All on account of the Double-O roan,

Sheep man a-steeling of the Double-O grass,
Boss says, "Shoot him, but not in the ----."

So we pulled out our guns and we got him on the fly,
Crawled in the weeds, and I guess he's going to die.

Chased a bunch of hosses thru the G-- d----- sheep,
The scatterment they made, made the sheep men weep.

Camped over night at the A bar B's,
Got so damn' cold, I thought I would freeze.

Raining hard and muddy as Hell,
Trailing thru the gumbo sure is Hell!

Hit Belle Fourche, and went on a spree,
Sheriff come a running, and he picked on me.

Looked me up in his lousy old Jail.
Boss said he'd be damned if he went my bail.


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August 25. 1930

THE OLD CHISHOLM TRAIL    (Page 3)

Just because I worked for him wa'n't no sign
That a cow-poke's boss had got to pay his fine.

Met a girl and thought I'd seen her before,
Tried her, and I found she was a G-- d----- whore.

Went to make a date as a cowpuncher oughter,
Found out the girl was that damn' sheriff's daughter.

Sheriff on my trail, left town on the run,
If he catches up, have to use my gun.

Left Belle Fourche, and left her on the lope,
To keep my neck from wearing out a scratchy old rope.

Going to leave Montana, and marry my squaw,
Going to settle down in Arkansas.


"Additional verses from Slim Guyer, Montana."