Classic Poem

I was leavin' the Blue Dog on the run
When pop goes a deputy sheriff's gun,
And he must a-been talkin' to me at that,
For off goes my ol' gray Stetson hat;
She hit on her edge and she rolled along,
For the wind was a-blowin' loud and strong.
So I took after my ol' J. B.
The same as the sheriff took after me.

I pitched the rein to my ol' cayuse,
Stood in the stirrups and turned him loose,
But my hat kept gainin', it hopped, it flew,
It run on the rim for a mile or two,
Got snagged in the sage and almost stopped,
Then up in the air it flipped and flopped,
Turnin' and turnin' away up high,
And takin' it easy — like eagles fly,
Then divin' down quick like an eagle drops,
Only that ol' hat she never stops;
Thinks I, " I savvy the whole durn show,
That hat is a-headin' for Mexico! "
So I took after my ol' J. B.
The same as the sheriff took after me.

Then all of a sudden the stars came out,
But the wind kept whistlin' wild and stout,
And I plum lost sight of my ol' gray hat
But I kept on foggin' across the flat,
Figurin' as how in the mornin' sun,
I'd find her fresh for another run.
And sure enough, when the mornin' came,
There was my ol' J. B., the same
Spinnin' along with a bounce and jump
Like a wheel turned loose on a down-hill hump;
Past Alamogordo on the fly,
Then Deming and Lordsburg shootin' by,
A-tryin' to ketch my ol' J. B.
The same as the sheriff took after me.

When the Rio Grande hove in sight,
Thinks I, " It's a case of ol' hat, good night! "
But she riz on a gust and she sailed across,
And I follered her trail on a played-out hoss,
Till we struck a bar and we pulled out slow,
And me and my hat was in Mexico.

Thinks I, " Ol' hat, we have come a stretch,
You are hard to beat and you're hard to ketch,
You been whipped by brush and rolled and stomped,
You been set on, stood on, squeezed and tromped,
You been soaked by rain and scorched by fire,
And squashed plum flat by a wagon tire,
You been used for whippin' broncos' ears,
And slapped in the face of ornery steers,
Or packin' water or fannin' flame,
Or stoppin' a hole in a window frame,
And you're goin' yet — the same as me. "
So I stuck my head in my ol' J. B.
Then I waved for the sheriff to go to hell,
And I headed South for a breathin' spell.