by Famie Whipple
July 24, 1948
In the spring of 1898
For a job I went in search,
And landed one, to herd the cows
In Nevada, for the Church.
I was very young, and knew no fear,
So I took the job at once,
And started out, my horse and I,
To some, I seemed a dunce.
I took no clothes, save those I wore,
No bed, and not much food.
I rode a trail, no one before had
Trekked where now I rode.
But it was spring and I was young,
With red blood in my veins.
I felt the confidence of youth
As I held on to the reins.
My horse, a chestnut sorrel, I loved,
Was true, and tried I know.
So I started forth to make a stake
In country seen by few.
I rode along o'er hill and plain,
The sun shone bright and clear,
I know my quest was not in vain.
This life I loved so dear.
A cowboy bold, I long had been,
And knew the ways and means
Of living out in sun and rain,
On coffee, bread and beans.
Or even less, on my trips,
With naught but peaches dry,
With worms that crawled upon my lips
When eat them I did try.
Or naught but water, stale to drink,
Or even days without.
Now, I had plenty of time to think,
And maybe turn about.
But as I rode I longed to see
This country new and wild,
Where I could be, a new home build,
To bring my wife and child.
I tilled the land; the soil was good,
The water it ran free,
Our children came, one at a time,
And filled our lives with glee.
We had our parties, and our fun,
In homes and on the hills,
These festive times took everyone
To fill our lives with thrills.
It was fifty years ago, I think,
And I am old and gray,
But I have never sorry been,
That I came to Lund to stay.
Compiled by:
Clair Whipple and given at funeral by Helen C. Gardner