Memories of Old Dun
Found
Luggin' my saddle I sore-footed it into Boxed R,
A two-horse spread, two ramshackle buildings,
And saw the ranahan totin' horse-trough water.
"How much," I pointed, "for the claybank?"
"That long-legged dun's only seven."
"How much then for the old dun?"
"Foster gets eighteen in town."
"How much for the pie-eater?"
"Eighteen and toss a hungry loop."
"Mister, I'm whipped. I'll take 'em."
"You'll be needin' a bill of sale."
Laid down two wrinkled greens and three silvers
For a sheriff-paper. His nod gave me corral-rights.
I caught and saddled Old Dun for a Sunday ride.