Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
Down on the Ol’ Bar-G
By Phil LeNoir
 
From “Western Poems”

THE BOSS he took a trip to France—
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
He left his gal to run the ranch,
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
She wouldn’t let us chew nor cuss,        5
Had to keep slicked up like a city bus,
So round-up time was u-nan-i-muss
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
 
Our round-up cook, he soon got th’u,
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.        10
Found his clay pipe right in the stew,
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
But when we let that feller go
We married grief an’ we married woe,
For the gal opined she’d bake the dough,        15
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
 
Wisht you’d seen her openin’ meal
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
We all blinked twict—seemed plumb unreal,
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.        20
We had figs an’ fudge an whipped-up pru’in,
An’ angel cake all dipped in goo-in,
“My Gawd!” said Tex, “my stomick’s ruint”—
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
 
We quit that job an’ cook-ladee        25
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
An’ pulled our freight for the lone prair-ee,
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
For out on the range we could chew an’ cuss
An’ git real mean an’ bois-ter-uss,        30
Whar apron-strings they couldn’t rope us
        Down on the ol’ Bar-G.
 
 
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