Here's a dose of cowboy humor:

Joe Bowers

My names' Joe Bowers, my brothers' Ike;
I came from Missouri all the way from Pike.
Here's why I left, how I came to roam,
leaving my mother, goin' far from home.

I loved a gal there named Sally Black;
asked her to marry me she said I was whack.
She said, "Joe Bowers, before we hitch for life,
you gotta get a home to keep your wife."

I said "Sally, oh Sally, Sally for your sake,
I'll go to California to make a stake.
Says she to me, "Joe Bowers, you're bound to win;
here's a kiss to seal the deal", she threw a dozen in.

When I got to that country I'd near lost my head.
I felt like a wolf, wished I was dead.
But thoughts of dear sally made the feelings git,
wished I had her still whisperin' to me yit.

Got a letter 'fore long from my brother Ike.
It came from Missouri, all the way from Pike;
brought me the damdest news you ever did hear.
Makes my heart break to tell it, excuse my tears.

Ike said Sal was cheatin', her love for me had gone.
She'd got married to a butcher, his hair was blonde.
More than that, what it said waas enough to make me swear.
He said, "Sally has a baby and its' got blonde hair."

Now you've heard the story of me and my woes.
I'll give you the sequel, let the story close.
Smallpox came and made that butcher stop.
I went back and married Sally, now I run his shop.

Sweet Betsy from Pike

Here a woman gets the better of a cowboy. An interesting, humerous glance into sides you don't normally hear about life crossing the prarie.

Remember, remember sweet Betsey from Pike?
She crossed the mountains with her lover Ike.
They had two yoke of cattle, a big yellow dog,
a tall shanghai rooster and a spotted hog.

When Betsey sore-footed, lay down to rest,
no wonder Ike gazed on Pike County's best!
Their wagon broke down with a terrible crash,
and out on the prarie rolled all kinds of trash.

The rooster ran off, their cattle all died.
One morning their last piece of bacon was fried.
Ike was discouraged, Betsey was mad
their dog drooped his tale lookin' wonderous sad.

When they reached the desert, Betsey gave out.
Down in the sand she started rollin' about.
Ike, half distracted looked on with surprise.
He said, "Betsey get up, you'll get sand in your eyes."

Betsey got up in a great deal of pain,
declared she'd go back to Pike County again.
A few baby clothes done up with care
rolled out of the wagon in a little square.

They finally settled, attended a dance.
Ike wore a pair of his Pike County pants.
Sweet Betsey was covered in ribbons and rings.
Says Ike, "You're an angel, where are your wings?"

The Pike County couple got married of course.
Before long Ike got jealous, obtained a divorce.
Sweet Betsey she was happy and gave a shout,
"Good-bye you big nit-wit, I'm glad you've backed out!"

In Kansas

O sun's so hot it makes eggs hatch
out west in Kansas,
it can turn the corn to a popcorn patch
out west in Kansas.
Once a mule came down a path
saw some of that corn and lost his breath,
thought it was snow and froze to death
out west in Kansas.

A man said he loved his wife
out west in Kansas
said they lived a peaceful life
out west in Kansas.
The reason why each night
they hold each others hands so tight,
if one turns loose it starts a fight
out west in Kansas.

New potatoes grow so small
out west in Kansas
dig them in the fall, eat them hide and all
out west in Kansas.
And they say drinkins' a sin
out west in Kansas
but they guzzle all they kin
out west in Kansas.

They got to chew tobacco thin
out west in Kansas
spit it on their chin, lap it up again
out west in Kansas.
Folks don't stay out very late
out west in Kansas.
They take the sidewalks in at eight,
out west in Kansas.

Government Claim

We think of those who staked claims as being fairly well off. However, there's another side to the story:

My name is Frank Bolar, a dirt farmer I am,
an old bachelor on an elegant plan.
You can find me out West in the County of Lane,
starving to death on a government claim.
My house it is built out of soil,
with walls erected according to Hyle.
The roof has no pitch, it's level and plain.
I always get wet when it happens to rain.

Chorus 1:

Hurray for Lane County, land of the free,
home of the grasshopper, bedbug and flea.
I sing out her praises, boast of her fame
as I starve to death on my government claim.

My clothes are ragged, my language is rough.
My bread is hard, solid and tough.
I've got dough scattered all over the room,
the floor would get scared if it saw a broom.
My dishes are dirty, some are in my bed,
covered with sorghum and government bread.
I have a good time, live at my ease,
on good old sap-sorghum, old bacon and grease.

Chorus 2:

Hurray for Lane County, land of the West,
where farmers and laborers always can rest.
You've nothing to do but sweetly remain
and starve like a man on your government claim.

I'm so happy when I crawl into my bed
and a rattlesnake rattles its' tail at my head.
The happy little centipede, without any fear,
crawls over my pillow and into my ear.
The nice little bedbug, cheerful and bright,
keeps me a-scrachin' half through the night.
The gay little flea, shoes sharp as a tack,
plays, "Why don't you catch me?" all across my back.

Chorus 3:

Oh come to Lane County, there's room for you all.
The winds never stop. The rain never falls.
Come join in the chorus, boast in her fame,
come starve like a dog on a government claim.

Yep, happy I am on my government claim.
Nothing to lose and nothing to gain.
Nothing to eat, nothing to wear,
nothing from nothing is honest and square.
Here I'm stuck, here I'll stay.
My moneys' all gone, I can't get away.
Nothing will make a man hard and profane
like starving to death on a government claim.

Chorus 4:

Wish it was farewell to Lane County, farewell to the West.
Wish I could travel back east to teh girl I love best.
Or stop in Missouri and get me a wife.
Not starve like a dog for the rest of my life.

Oh come to Lane County, there's room for you all.
The winds never stop. The rain never falls.
Come join in the chorus, boast in her fame,
come starve like a dog on a government claim.

A womans' perspective is found in a song called:

Reply to "The Little Old Sod Shanty on the Claim" (a song similar, though a bit less bleak, than that above)

My Sam is looking shabby now while holding down his claim,
his flapjacks he writes, are not the best.
I put my hair in papers, lay down to rest,
while Sam rests in his shanty on the claim.

I like the novelty of living this way,
long engagements have become rather tame.
I'm happy as a clam since I said good-bye to Sam
when he went to seek his shanty on the claim.

Chorus:

The dances are so pleasant, delightful I'll say.
I've got as many beaus as I can name.
O the fun I have while my Sam is far away
in his little old shanty on the claim.

Let him dabble in dough, I'm sure it serves him right
he left me in the gutter to roam.
How can he think I'm such a ninny as to marry the fright
and be his slave in his old sod shanty home.

He says he'll make his fortune but I think he'll lose his hair
meanwhile there's many men here with lots of tin.
He'd better find some other woman as a mother for his heir
and get him out of the mess he's in.

He dreams of bliss when in wedlock spent
with some fair and mindful dame.
But when his cash she's spent till he's not a cent,
she'll leave him and his shanty on the claim.

Or if she's a vixen, she'll make him toe the mark,
and thresh and pump and pound till he's lame.
I think I'll marry the owner of the stone front near the park
and leave Sam to his shanty claim.

More women doin' the men wrong:

My Ma Was Born in Texas

My ma was born in Texas, my pa in Tennessee.
They were married in teh summer of eighteen ninety three.
They moved to California and that's where I was born.
In a rollin' covered wagon on a cold September morn.

At seventeen the range was calling, I left for the plains.
I married a fair young maiden, which showed I had no brains.
She said she was a maiden, but oh, how she lied.
When the honeymoon was over, seven kids were by her side.

I was disappointed, but I said I didn't mind.
I stayed her husband, was honest, true and kind.
Till one night I found her upon anothers' knee.
Said he was her cousin, long lost and introduced to me.

The fairest plains flower lying! I pulled my gun and said,
"You low down sneakin' bastard," and I filled him full of lead.
The jury found me guilty. They sentanced me to life.
But I'm better off in prison than to live with such a wife.

Clemantine

A very different, older version of the song than that best known:

By the river lived a maiden
in a cottage seven by nine.
All around this lovely bower
flower blossoms used to twine.

Chorus:
Oh my Clema, oh my Clema, oh my darling Clemantine,
now you are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry Clemantine.

One day the wind was blowing awful
I took her down some old rye wine.
I listened to the flute like ravings
of my sweet flower Clemantine.

Chorus

The ducks had gone down to the river
to drive them back she did incline.
Stubbed her toe on an oaken sliver
and fell in the foamy brine.

Chorus

I see'd her lips above the water
a blowin' bubbles very fine.
Won't no use, I won't no swimmer
so I lost my Clemantine.

Chorus

Now every night down by the river
her ghost walks 'bout half past nine.
I know it's her 'cause I've tracked her
still smells like flowers, Clemantine

Chorus

Cowboy's Boast

I'm a howlin' coyote from the West,
if you wanna die of terror, look at me.
I'm chain lightnin' and the best,
terror of the boundless prarie.

I'm a double jawed hyena from the East,
a reveler in murder and gore.
I'm a celebrated slugger and a beast
I've busted more rails than anyone before.

Chorus:

I'm a killer and a hater.
I'm a great annihilator.
I'm the terror of the boundless prarie.

I'm the blazing bloody buzzard of the States.
I'm a walking, stalking terror of the night.
I'll sntach a man bald-headed while he waits
Coyote of the sunset, I'm a villan and a fright.

Chorus

My Uncle Jess was Jesse James.
My ma was Chock-taw-said.
Black Jack Catch-um was my paw.
Sam Bass my cradle maid.

They fed me first on she wolfs' milk
and while my teeth was cuttin',
my rattle was a diamond back,
with twenty seven buttons.

Chorus

Where I make my bed at night,
the grass it fades and dies.
And when I'm ridin' in the rain,
the fearful lightnin' shies.

If I meet a girl I love her,
'cause quickly I can move her.
I can take a joke or give it.
It's my life, mine to live it.

Chorus

This song, which has scores of versions, was so popular in the West I'd be remiss in leaving it out:

Red River Valley

From this valley they say you are going.
I can read the sad news in your eyes.
From me you are taking the sunshine,
but you're blind to the blues of the skies.

Come and sit by my side my darling.
Come and lay your cool hand on mine.
And promise me that you will never
be anyones' darling but mine.

Chorus:

Come sit here awhile before you leave me;
do not quickly bid me adieu.
And remember the Red River Valley.
And the cowboy who loves you so true.

I promise you darling I'd never
bring you sorrow or pain.
Must your promises to me be forgotten?
Don't you think you could love me again?

There could never be such a longing
in the heart of a cowboys' berast
as now lives in the heart you are breaking
leaving me here in our home in the West.

Chorus

From the city please write me a letter.
Don't forget to send a lock of your hair.
Just address it to Red River Valley
and teh cowboy who still loves you there.

From this valley I know you are leaving
I will miss your sweet face and calling your name.
The coyotes will howl with my grieving
Whatever went wrong, I'll always take blame.

Chorus

The Moonshine Steer

Two cowboys left camp one fine day
leading in a bald-faced steer.
What happened to them on the way,
you're now a-goin' to hear.

They was ridin' through some brush
alongside a hill,
all at once they stumbled on
a secret moonshine still.

Moonshiner heard them a-comin',
a-comin' through the brush.
He thought the sheriff had him,
so he left in quite a rush.

Them cowboys hefted up the jug
found her full-pretty nigh.
They each took a snort right then and there
see, they was tolerable dry.

One said, "Lets get on again
we've still got work to do."
They got on their horses and rode away
and the jug it rode away too.

When they got to where the steer was
they was feelin' mighty gay,
they'd stopped to tilt that moonshine jug
each stop along the way.

One said to the other, "That's the durndest steer
I ever did find.
It's got two dozen heads and a dozen legs
and fourteen tails on its' behind.

The steer bowed up and gave them hell
they seen he never would lead.
So the figured a jolt of moonshine
was just the thing he'd need.

They did but the steer then pawed the ground
he bawled and he bellered too.
He rolled his eyes and wrung his tail
shook his hocks and flew.

Then he up and left the boys
as hard as he could go.
And if he kept on going
he's down in Mexico.

This story has a moral,
you'll find it right here:
if you ever find some moonshine
don't waste none on no steer.