ys I,
"I'll never wander further till I come to die."
But the wind it sorter chuckles, "Why, o' course you will."
An' sure enough I does it 'cause I can't keep still.

I've seen a lot o' places where I'd like to stay,
But I gets a-feelin' restless an' I'm on my way.
I was never meant for settin' on my own door sill,
An', once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still.

I've been in rich men's houses an' I've been in jail,
But when it's time for leavin' I jes hits the trail.
I'm a human bird of passage and the song I trill
Is, "Once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still."

The sun is sorter coaxin' an' the road is clear,
An' the wind is singin' ballads that I got to hear.
It ain't no use to argue when you feel the thrill;
For, once you git the habit, why, you can't keep still.
_Berton Braley._

A RANGER

HE never made parade of tooth or claw;
He was plain as us that nursed the bawlin' herds.
Though he had a rather meanin'-lookin' jaw,
He was shy of exercisin' it with words.
As a circus-ridin' preacher of the law,
All his preachin' was the sort that hit the nail;
He was just a common ranger, just a ridin' pilgrim stranger,
And he labored with the sinners of the trail.

Once a Yaqui knifed a woman, jealous mad,
Then hit southward with the old, old killer's plan,
And nobody missed the woman very bad,
While they'd just a little rather missed the man.
But the ranger crossed his trail and sniffed it glad,
And then loped away to bring him back again,
For he stood for peace and order on the lonely, sunny border
And his business was to hunt for sinful men!

So the trail it led him southward all the day,
Through the shinin' country of the thorn and snake,
Where the heat had drove the lizards from their play
To the shade of rock and bush and yucca stake.
And the mountains heaved and rippled far away
And the desert broiled as on the devil's prong,
But he didn't mind the devil if his head kept clear and level
And the hoofs beat out their clear and steady song.

Came the yellow west, and on a far off rise
Something black crawled up and dropped beyond the rim,
And he reached his rifle out and rubbed his eyes
While he cussed the southern hills for growin' dim.
Down a hazy 'royo came the coyote