Front:
909
CAKE ME BACK TO
OLD MONTANA.
Take me back to old Montana.
Take me where there ain't no subways,
Where there's plenty room and air;
Nor no forty-story shacks;
Where there's cotton wood an' pine trees, Where they shy at automobiles,
Bitter root and prickly pear3;
Where there ain't no pomp nor glitter,
Dudes, plug hats an' three-rail tracks;
Where the old sun-tanned prospector,
Dreams of wealth an' pans his dirt,
Where the sleepy night-herd puncher,
Where a shilling 's called a "bit."
Where at night the magpies twitter,
Where the Injun fights were fit.
Sings to steers and plies his quirt.
Take me where there's diamond hitches,
Ropes an' brands an' ca'tridge belts.
Take me back where the sage is plenty,
Where there's rattlesnakes and ticks;
Where a stack of "whites cost twenty,
Where the boys wear chapps for britches,
Where they don't sell gilded bricks:
Where the old Missouri river,
Flannel shirts an' Stetson felts,
Land of alfalfa an' copper!
An the muddy Yellowstone.
Land of sapphire an' gold!
Make green patches in the Bad Lands
Take me back to dear Montana,
Where old Sittin' Bull was known.
Let me die there when I'm old
J. C. Cory
73771-N
Back:
KEENAN NEWS AGENCY, SPOKANE, WASH.
