76 BUFFALO LAND. 



A stranger played me fur a fool, 

 An' threw the high, low, jack, 



An' sold me the wuss piece of mule 

 That ever humped a back. 



But that wer fair ; I don't complain, 



That I got beat in trade ; 

 I don't sour on a fellow's gain, 

 * When sich is honest made. 



But wust wer this, he stole the mule, 

 An' I were bilked complete ; 



Such thieves, we hossmen makes a rule 

 To lift 'em from their feet. 



We started arter that 'ere pup, 



An' took the judge along, 

 For fear, with all our dander up, 



We might do somethin' wrong. 



We caught him under twenty miles, 



An tried him under trees ; 

 The judge he passed around the " smiles," 



As sort o' jury fees. 



"Prisoner," says judge, " now say your say, 

 An' make it short an' sweet, 



An', while yer at it, kneel and pray, 

 For Death yer can not cheat. 



No man shall hang, by this 'ere court, 



Exceptin' on the square ; 

 There's time fur speech, if so it's short, 



But none to chew or swear." 



