CHIQUITA. 



Beautiful ! Sir, you may say so. Thar is n't her match in the 



county. 



Is thar, old gal, Chiquita, my darling, my beauty ? 

 Feel of that neck, sir, thar's velvet ! Whoa ! Steady, ah, 



will you, you vixen ! 

 Whoa ! I say. Jack, trot her out ; let the gentleman look at 



her paces. 



Morgan ! She ain't nothin' else, and I've got the papers to 



prove it. 

 Sired by Chippewa Chief, and twelve hundred dollars wont 



buy her. 

 Briggs of Tuolumne owned her. Did you know Briggs of 



Tuolumne ? 

 Busted hisself in White Pine, and blew out his brains down in 



'Frisco? 



Hed n't no savey hed Briggs. Thar, Jack ! that'll do, 



quit that foolin' ! 

 Nothin' to what she kin do, when she's got her work cut out 



before her. 

 Hosses is hosses, you know, and likewise, too, jockeys is 



jockeys ; 

 And 'tain't ev'ry man as can ride as knows what a hoss has 



got in him. 



Know the old ford on the Fork, that nearly got Flanigan's 



leaders ? 

 Nasty in daylight, you bet, and a mighty rough ford in low 



water ! 



Well, it ain't six weeks ago that me and the Jedge and his nevey 

 Struck for that ford in the night, in the rain, and the water all 



round us ; 



Up to our flanks in the gulch, and Rattlesnake Creek just a 

 bilin', 



Not a plank left in the dam, and nary a bridge on the river. 



I had the gray, and the Jedge had his roan, and his nevey, 

 Chiquita ; 



And after us trundled the rocks jest loosed from the top of the 

 canon. 



Lickity, lickity, switch, we came to the ford ; and Chiquita 



Buckled right down to her work, and, afore I could yell to her 

 rider, 



Took water jest at the ford ; and there was the Jedge and me 

 standing, 



And twelve hundred dollars of hoss-flesh afloat, and a drift- 

 in' to thunder ! 



