The old caboose is rattlin', and is swayin' to and fro ;
But we're fog-bound in tobacco, while the tales like magic
grow ;
There's a big trainload of cattle that is shriekin' down the
grades,
But we're settin' back contented while we hear of feuds
and raids ;
There's Ed and Bill and Curly, and a man from Pecos
way ---
We're the chaperons of shipments that are fresh from
prairie hay ;
His load of care is lifted and he feels like givin' cheers
When the cowman goes to market with the season's first
prime steers.
The stories last till midnight, while the old train onward
roars ;
There are tales of blood and slaughter and of evenin'-up
old scores ;
There are stories of the prairie and stories of the hills,
And of deeds of heroism with the mildest full of
thrills.
The smoke keeps gettin' thicker, but nobody wants to
quit ---
There's another story comin', and it's sure to make a
hit ;
There's history for the writin' --- old Homer'd be all ears
And could write another winner on a trainload of beef
steers.
--Arthur Chapman
Reprinted from Out Where the West Begins and Other Western Verses, Boston, 1917.
