Odd ends

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.