The Tenderfeet

From the Omaha Daily Bee, May 24, 1915. By Arthur Chapman.

From old New York we journeyed westward—
    ’Twas something like two weeks ago—
We both were armed with six-foot tickets
    Which read for Sheridan, Wyo.;
When we arrived we bought sombreros
    And I donned cowboy boots, well greased,
Yet people say, whene’er they meet us:
    “We see you folks are from the east.”

We thought a few more things were needed
    To make us fit the western scene,
So chaps and spurs I quickly purchased—
    Likewise a shirt of vivid green;
My wife is dressed like Annie Oakley—
    She looks a movie queen at least—
Yet people say, whene’er they greet us:
    “We see you’re just here from the east.”

We’ve loaded up with deadly weapons,
    We’ve raised our boot heels one inch more;
We’re wearing hatbands made of snakeskin,
    We’ve read up on wild western lore;
We talk of trappers, scouts and cowboys;
    Each rides a livery stable beast;
But still we hear that hated greeting:
    “We see you’re not long from the east.”