Little Bronc Poem by Henry Herbert Knibbs

Little Bronc, I'm goin' to ride you—you a-hidin' in between
Blue and Baldy! Think you're bluffin'
With your snortin' and your puffin';
Quit! and save yourself a roughin',
Guess you sabe what I mean.

Yes, my loop is wide and trailin'—and your eye a-showin' white: Reckon that I got to show you, For I broke you and I know you, Mebby-so I got to throw you 'Fore I get them cinches tight. 'T ain't no use! I got you comin' and I aim to take a chance: Pitch and squeal and fight ag'in it! I'll be with you, in a minute; Hell to breakfast

—all that's in it, I'm your pardner for this dance! Grunt you! Forty pounds of saddl

—and you swellin' like a cow: I was raised down on the Tonto, Where they break and ride 'em pronto: You're fork-lightnin' to git onto, But I aim to fork you, now. Whee! Now just unwind your feelin's! Get them wrinkles from your hide! Here's the iron for your balkin', Just stiff-mad because I'm talkin', And you aim to set me walkin', Well, you bronc

—I aim to ride! Steady! Thought you knowed the iron! Guess your pitchin' fit is done. Now dig in and scatter dirt, you! Shakin' 'cause you think I'll quirt you? Shucks, I never aimed to hurt you, I'm just playin' with you, son! See that spot of green down yonder? That's the town of San José. Thirty mile we come a-sweatin', Tail a-switchin', ears a-frettin', But your boss is still a-settin' In the hull, and goin' to stay. Howdy John! What, sell this pony? Say, you're talkin' through your hat; This here bronc is wise to ropin', Thirty miles we come, a-lopin', Gentle? Sure! And

—well, here's hopin' Yes, I'll take a hundred, flat. Sold that pitchin' chunk of trouble, and there ain't no use to stay. Air'll be thick here, after dinner, When John forks that outlaw sinner: And I'm goin' where it's thinner: Yes, I'm leavin' San José.