At round up many years back

Was a old cowboy called Happy Jack

Tall and lean with skin like leather

In his hat stuck a Eagle's feather

When he spoke it was raspy and low

From his lips hung a cigarette aglow

Sitting so many horses made his legs bowed

All listened at the yarns he told

When asked why the name Happy

With a laugh he said 'my pappy'

At work he out did all men

First one out and the last one in

From where he came  no one was sure

For all sick animals he knew a cure

The round up over we all went away

Months later on bussiness I was in Denver one day

In a plush office and in a suit of black

Behind the desk sat Old Happy Jack