Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Sky-high

N. Howard Thorp

THE SCREAM of the outlaw split the air

As we tied him hard and fast

To the snubbing post in the horse corral;

For his turn had come at last

To learn the feel of spurs of steel

As they graze along each side.

En Bugger pulled up his chaps a hole,

For he was the next to ride.

We knew he’d strike, we knew he’d bite,

We knew he’d kick and rear;

So we grabbed his ears en held his head

Till Bugger got up near.

He stepped into the saddle

En hollered, “Let ’im go!”

We jerked the blinder from his eyes,

Then stopped to watch the show.

You’ve all heard of pitchin’ horses

From Steamboat down the line:

Old Barometer, en Step Fast

En a mare they called Divine;

Old Prickly Pear, en Pizen,

Lop Ears, en Stingaree—

They all wuz Shetland ponies

’Side this horse from Santa Fe.

We asked Red in tones solicitous

If he had made his will—

Had he any girl in Texas

Who really loved him still?

Was there any parting message

That he would like to send

To some one in his old, old home

Who still might be his friend?

Who was his pet undertaker?

What parson should we get?

Would he have flowers on his coffin?

I can hear old Bugger yet:

“Mosey, you four-flush punchers,

Don’t weep no tears for me!—

I’m a ridin’ kid from Texas,

From the old 3 Bar C!

“Go up, you old Cloud-getter,

I can see the Pearly Gate,

We’re a-doin’ the Grand Ascension—

Loopin’ the loops, as sure as fate;

“If I’m a judge of horses,

You’re not one, two, three,

With the gentle stock we used to ride

At the old 3-C!”

He whipped old Sky-high till he quit,

He rowelled him up and down.

Old Sky-high had a plenty—

He could hardly turn around.

En we heard old Bugger hummin’

Es he turned the outlaw free,

“I’m a ridin’ kid from Texas,

From the old 3-C!”