o struck in good and hard.
Makes me sometimes soft and tender;
Next thing I would fight my pard.
Appetite is surely failing,
Sometimes I don't eat a bite;
Dream of Nancy all the daytime,
That durn Johnson, half the night.

6

I've just got to get to plowin',
Break a fire-guard 'round my shack,
Plant my sod corn, fix my garden;
Everything is goin' to rack.
I can't work the way I used to;
Got to quittin' early now,
Since a little thing that happened,
I can't just remember how.
I was takin' leave of Nancy,
Standin' out there in the night,
And I put my arms around her--
Heart stopped beatin', just from fright.
Can't express the kind of feelin',--
Words wa'n't never made for this,--
As I drew her face up closer,
And I stole my first sweet kiss.

THE QUARREL

1

Things have moved along some smoother
Since a week ago to-night,
Seems my blood turned all to p'ison--
Me and Johnson had a fight.
Caught him twice up there to Nancy's;
Told him plain to stay away;
But he didn't seem to notice
Anything I had to say.
Caught him settin' there and talkin'
'Bout the things that he had done--
Durndest liar on the prairie--
Laughing like he thought 'twas fun,
Settin' there beside o' Nancy--
Settin' down is all he does,
Good for nothin', bug-eyed, loafin',
Wrinkled, yaller, meddlin' cuss!

2

I just let him keep on settin'
All the whole long evenin' through;
When he started off I follered,
Told him what I meant to do.
"Why," says he, "now, don't git foolish;
I ain't skeered o' your light breeze;
I'll go thar and set by Nancy,
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 caref