Red River prospector. (Red River, Taos County, N.M.) 1900-190?, 1901-06-20
When Christmas Come
TO Buckskin.

Thar aint no mimi camps these days like good old Buckskin, Joe,
And Christmas in the mountains amt like twas some years ago;
Thar &int no camps like Buckskin, and il amt no use to seek,
For you'll only strike some scrub layouts like Creede an Cripple Greek
The miners, too, amt like the boys that we knew in our day
They savvy less of pay-streaks than they do of pitchin' hay,
Their hands all has an in ard curve and Porphyry Bill allows
lis the natral physical effect that comes from milkin' COWS.
But it amt of these latter days that 1 would care to speak,
Nor them agricultural miners dgg1n' wells in Cripple Creek.
But rather of the good old days that l would tell about,
When Christina come to BuckskIn an we had a zig blowout.
Thar never was a Christmas in these mountains like to that
1t opened with a jack pot, an with all hands standin' pat
1t ended in a big surprise, all due to Parson Ford,
Who had power of attorney for to represent the Lore.
Now, Bnckskin was as tough a camp as you could wish to see,
With gold dust an red liquor both a clrculatin' free,
The boys would drink an gamble, an they never lodged a fight,
An hell was Just a poppn' out on main street every night
10 sin an all round cussedness that camp would assay high,
But on general heavenly matters we were all a few chips shy,
Until thar come into the camp one of them gospel sharps,
A-dealn OF a game where bets We're paid IN crowns an haTps.
Oh, that Christmas day in Buckskinl Thar was me an Henry Bean,
Au, Short. Mcintyre, an a one-eyed cuss named Gseen,
Rnomn' mp the higgst jackpot that old Buckskin ever saw.
An when we got done hisiu' nary man would draw II card,
Then three of us hltrhed 'ronnd or guns. in case we'd have to shoot
While Green, the one-eyed boss thief, pulled a knife out of his boot
We watched each other like four wolves that blessed Christmas day,
An all could plainly see that there was trouble on the way;
Well heeled we was for trouble as to weapons, cards and dust,
An each man had his mind made NJ to win that pot or bust
Bpt while we e%EGied belts an pockets M out on the board
Who said to us: My brethren, l greet you in His name,
An with your kind permission / will chip into this game"
Three gnns We're pnned, an One-Eye took fresh grip on his knife,
An it. looked as if the parson was a tran' with his life,
But he calls our play most beautiful by sayn' to us then:
Il come to speak Of Pence on earth and good will toward all men "
We sorter dropped onr guns, an One-Eyed Green put up his steel,
An we sat down n frln' bon rs small IA we conld feel,
While the parson kept on talkin MI about this Christmas day,
And the precious Limb Of God who came to wash our sins away.
That yarn he WIS a telin' was the best that I've heard told.
Though aew to US, the paron called his yarn "the story old"
And L reckon down in Denver they heard it long ago,
But news in reacling Buckskin camp WAS always kind of slow.
So when the parsous tale was done we all resolved to try
To do unto each other Just IS we would be done by;
But we made him tell The yarn again and then he sung a psalm,
Then the pamon took that jack pot as an offering to the lamb ,
Carriers Monthly