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LITTLE JOE, THE WRANGLER (N. Howard Thorp / Traditional) Chris LeDoux Also recorded by : Don Edwards; Cisco Houston; Michael Martin Murphy; Marty Robbins; The Sons of the Pioneers; Red Steagall; David Wilkie; Bob Wills & his Texas Playbous. Little Joe the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more His days with the remuda, they're all done It was long about last April he rode into our camp Just a little Texas stray and all alone It was long late in the evening when he rode into our camp On a little old brown pony he called Shaw In his brogan shoes and coveralls, a harder lookin' kid You never in you life have seen before. His saddle was a Sother kack built many years ago An OK spur on one foot idly hung With his bed roll in a cotton sack was loosely tied behind And a canteen from the saddle horn he'd slung. Said he had to leave his home because his paw had married twice His new maw beat him every day or two So he saddled up old Shaw one night and lit a shuck this way Thought he'd try and paddle now his own canoe. Said he'd try to do the best he could if we'd only give him work Though he didn't know straight up about a cow So the boss, he cut him out a mount and kinda put him on And we knew he liked our little stray somehow. Well, he taught him how to heard the horses and learned to know 'em all And to get 'em in by daylight if he could And to follow the chuck wagon and to always hitch the team And to help the carsonaro rustle wood. We had driven to Red River and the weather it was fine We were camped down on the south side of the bend When a Norther started blowin' we called the extra guard 'Cause it took all hands to hold the cattle in. Now little Joe the wrangler was called out like the rest Barely had the kid got to the heard When the cattle, they stampeded - like a hailstorm on they flew With all of us a ridin' for the lead. Between the streaks of lightnin' we could see a horse ahead It was little Joe the wrangler in the lead He was riding old Blue Rocket with a slicker o'er his head And he's trying to check the leaders in their speed. We finally got'em millin' and they sort of quieted down The extra guard back to the camp did go But one of them was missing and we all knew at a glance 'Twas our little Texas strayboy, wrangler Joe. We found him there at sun up where old Blue Rocket fell In some washout twenty feet below Beneath his horse smashed to a pulphis spur had rung the knell For our little Texas stray bos, wrangler Joe. Little Joe the wrangler, he'll wrangle never more His days with the remuda, they're all done It was long about last April he rode into our camp Just a little Texas stray and all alone

    


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