boy i’ve been on the ladder where the trick waters flow where the cattle are a grazing and the spanish ponies grow where the northerns come on whistling from behind the neutral strip and the prairie dogs are sneezing as if they had “the grip” but the coyotes come a howling “round the ranches after dark and the mocking-birds are singin’ to the lovely “medder lark” where the big hoards are grazing and the lonely lovers talk it was there that i intended the cowboys’ christmas spot
the boys have left the ranches and come to town in piles the ladies—”kinder scatterin’” had gathered in for miles the room was togged out gorgeous with mistletoe and shawls and candles flickered frescoes, around the airy walls the “wimmin folks” looked lovely the boys looked kinder treed till the leader got to yelling hey fellows lets stampede and the music started sighin’, an’ awailin’ through the hall as a kind of introduction to the cowboy’s christmas ball
their leader was a fellow that came from swenson’s ranch they called him windy billy from little dead man’s ranch his rig was “kinder keerless,” he had the reputation that comes when “fellers shoots” his voice was like a bugle upon the mountain’s height his feet were animated in a mighty movin’ sight when he commenced to holler, neow, fellers stake your pen! lock horns ter all them heifers, and wrestle ‘em like men saloot yer lovely critters; now swing and let ‘em go climb the grape vine ’round ‘em—all hands do-ce-do! you mavericks, jine the round-up jest skip her waterfall hit was gettin’ happy, the cowboys’ christmas ball!
don’t tell me ’bout cotillions, or germans. no sire ‘ee! that whirl at anson city just takes the cake with me. i’m sick of lazy shufflin’s, of them i’ve had my fill give me a frontier break-down, backed up by windy bill
where gals aren’t no where where the windy leafs are shown i’ve seen all the hardness and so i saw them all oh, bill, i sha’n't forget yer, and i’ll oftentimes recall, that lively gaited sworray the cowboys’ christmas ball. oh, bill, i sha’n't forget yer, and i’ll oftentimes recall, that lively gaited sworray the cowboys’ christmas ball