"wimmin folks" looked lovely--the boys looked kinder treed,
Till their leader commenced yellin': "Whoa, fellers, let's stampede."
The music started sighin' and a-wailin' through the hall,
As a kind of introduction to "The Cowboys' Christmas Ball."

The leader was a fellow that came from Swenson's Ranch,
They called him "Windy Billy," from "little Dead-man's Branch."
His rig was "kinder keerless," big spurs and high-heeled boots;
He had the reputation that comes when "fellers shoots."
His voice was like the bugle upon the mountain's height;
His feet were animated, an' a _mighty movin' sight_,
When he commenced to holler, "Neow, fellers, stake yer pen!
Lock horns to all them heifers, an' russle 'em like men.
Saloot yer lovely critters; neow swing an' let 'em go,
Climb the grape vine round 'em--all hands do-ce-do!
And Mavericks, jine the round-up--Jest skip her waterfall,"
Huh! hit wuz gittin' happy, "The Cowboys' Christmas Ball!"

The boys were tolerable skittish, the ladies powerful neat,
That old bass viol's music _just got there with both feet_.
That wailin' frisky fiddle, I never shall forget;
And Windy kept a singin'--I think I hear him yet--
"O Xes, chase your squirrels, an' cut 'em to one side,
Spur Treadwell to the center, with Cross P Charley's bride,
Doc. Hollis down the middle, an' twine the ladies' chain,
Varn Andrews pen the fillies in big T. Diamond's train.
All pull yer freight tergether, neow swallow fork an' change,
'Big Boston' lead the trail herd, through little Pitchfork's range.
Purr round yer gentle pussies, neow rope 'em! Balance all!"
Huh! hit wuz gittin' active--"The Cowboys' Christmas Ball!"

The dust riz fast an' furious, we all just galloped round,
Till the scenery got so giddy, that Z Bar Dick was downed.
We buckled to our partners, an' told 'em to hold on,
Then shook our hoofs like lightning until the early dawn.
Don't tell me 'bout cotillions, or germans. No sir '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 fronteer breakdown, backed up by Windy Bill.
McAllister ain't nowhere! when Windy leads the show,
I've seen 'em both in harness, an' so I sorter know--
Oh, Bill, I sha'n't forget yer, and I'll oftentimes recall,
That lively-gaited sworray--"The Cowboys'