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Group Title: peep at Buffalo Bill's wild west.
Title: A peep at Buffalo Bill's wild west
CITATION THUMBNAILS PAGE TURNER PAGE IMAGE
Full Citation
STANDARD VIEW MARC VIEW
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00055371/00001
 Material Information
Title: A peep at Buffalo Bill's wild west
Physical Description: 1 v. (unpaged) : col. ill. ; 31 cm.
Language: English
Creator: McLoughlin Bros., inc ( Publisher )
Publisher: McLoughlin Bros.
Place of Publication: New York
Publication Date: c1887
 Subjects
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Horses -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Shooting -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Rifles -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Indians of North America -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Cowboys -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Juvenile poetry -- West (U.S.)   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1887
Genre: poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
General Note: Cover title.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00055371
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002256939
notis - ALK9723
oclc - 08135229

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
    Content
        Page 1
        Plate
        Page 2
        Plate
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 4
        Plate
        Page 5
        Plate
        Page 6
        Plate
        Page 7
        Plate
        Page 8
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
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A PEEP AT BUFFALO BILL'S WILD WEST.
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To lasso the Buffalo on the plains, The dream of his boyhood it had been
To drive the wolf from its lair, To live in the wild-wood free
To run and race at a break-neck pace, Like a pioneer, and to chase the deer
To shoot at the hungry bear, With others as wild as he.

Away from the haunts of men to go So steady his fiand and so sure his aim
And follow his own sweet will, As he flung out the light lasso,
O this was the sort of life, and the sport That in the loop of his line he'd scoop
That suited Buffalo Bill! I The terrible Buffalo.

The whole Wild West was open to him; The ways of the wild-ox well he learned-
And there he could freely roam, And such was his nerve and skill
And under the trees could live at his ease, In snaring this game, that he won great fame,
And make himself quite at home. And the name of Buffalo Bill.
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But out in the land of the setting sun, 0 brave and bold must the white man be
The savages made their home, Who follows the red man's track,
And in search of food o'er mountain and wood By day and night prepared to fight
The red men were wont to roam. .. And parry the fierce attack.

And oft they would cross the great frontier With eye as keen as an eagle's own,
The white men to rob and slay, With a steady,hand and nerve
And troops were sent by the government He must stand in his place, and the foeman face,
To keep the wretches at bay. And never from duty swerve.

Swiftly the arrows rushed through the air, The troops press on with a steady march,
Loudly the guns replied; With pistols and guns supplied;
And red and white took part in the fight But as brave as they are they cannot go far
And the dead were on either side. Without a reliable guide;

The savages knew every inch of the ground, And happy are they in meeting with one
Very crafty were they and sly, So worthy this post to fill,
And with loosened rein o'er the level plain For there couldn't be found in the country around
With wonderful speed did they fly. Such a scout as Buffalo Bill.




























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He knew where their wigwams were set up, The fagots were lit, and around and around
And once he had led a raid In a ring the savages went,
Right into the camp of a tattoed scamp, While the horrid drum, with its tum-a-tum-tum,
Who had reason to be afraid With their shouts and their war-whoops blent,

Of a white man's wrath; for his hands were dyed And there on the embers they meant to lay
With blood, and much pride he felt The prisoner lately caught,
In having a gun he had seized from one So cruel were they, and this was the way
Whose scalp he wore at his belt. To treat their foes they were taught.

By all the Sioux and the bold Cheyennes And many of those who across the plains
Apaches and Nez Perces, To the aid of the red men had come,
Was the scout well known, and he had grown Had abused them well-' tis a shame to tell-
Familiar with all their ways. And increased their thirst for rum.

He had seen them oft in bloodthirsty mood, And the old feuds grew, and the red men claimed
With feathery shield and lance, The land they had long possessed;
With their war-paint on,and the scalps they'd won, And the white men fought for the prize they sought
Indulge in a wild war dance. A home in the Wild, Wild West.
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Hec_ kne where.: their wigam wer setx up h aoswr i, n rudadaon
And onc hehdldarid*' InU a rigtesvae et

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Wh ha esnt earai Wihtersot n hi a-hosbet
Of wit mn'swrth fr ishnswrede Anthronhembsteyeatoly
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In hvin a gn h ha seied rom ne o cuel erethey an ths wa th wa
Whos scl ewr thsbl.T retterfe hywr agt
By al te Siux nd he bld heyenesAndmanyof hosewhoacrss te pain
Apachs an Nez erc~, Tothe ad ofthe ed me hadcome
Wa te cutwel nwn ad eha gow adabse he wll- ts sae o el-
Familar wih alltheirways..And ncreaed thir t irstfrrm
















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O'er dangerous roads, and through canyons deep And then if the white rogues they escaped
The Overland Coach moved on The red men were sure to come
With its living freight, and its treasures great, With arrows and bows, and their way oppose,
In charge of the driver, John. And prove very troublesome.

O wonderful stories he had to tell And to keep themselves in good fighting trim,
Of the dangers that he had met, And worthy a warrior's place,
For on many a trip he had cracked his whip, Each youthful brave by his sire so grave
And never once been upset. Was compelled to run a race.

But out of the shadows would bandits steal- And Hole-in-the-ground, and Rain-in-the-face,
Those masked and merciless bands- In their moccasons did appear,
And the stage-coach stop, and their pistols pop, With Stick-in-the-mud, and Big-young blood
Till the passengers raised their hands. And Dare-devil in the rear.

And then their money these rogues would take, And as swift as the nimble-footed deer
Their watches and chains without fail, Away o'er the course they sped,
And empty each bag of the precious "swag" And Rain-in-the-face kept up his pace,
SThat was part of the Overland mail. And always came out ahead.



















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Still the settlers manage to push their way And driven away by the white man's axe
Along through the Wild, Wild West, From the early haunts of his race,
And the weary length of the road their strength The Indian packs his tents, and makes tracks
Is daily put to the test. For a suitable dwelling-place.

And to keep them safe from the savage beasts The squaws and papooses ride on ahead
That growl and threaten to kill, With blankets around them twined,
And from Indian bands that infest the lands, With their houses all rolled up in a ball
They are guarded by Buffalo Bill. And the tent-poles trailing behind.

And he and his men are on the alert And the little boys that are early trained
These enemies fierce to spy, To hunt for the forest game,
And if one of them shows the tip of his nose, With arrow and bow look out for the foe
Ah me I how the bullets fly I And are very sure in their aim.

And through many perils the settlers reach And this is the game of hide-and-seek
The spot that they think the best, The white men and red men play
And a space is cleared, and a house is reared- On the prairies wide, where on every side
A modest but sweet home-nest. They fight for the right of way.



















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The Indian village again set up, The Indian mother is proud of her boys,
The Squaws must remain at home And will urge them to be as bold
With the younger brood, to prepare the food, And brave as their sire, whom they admire,
While the warriors further roam. Of whose deeds they are daily told.

And girt with the weapons that they have won And the wild young savages run and leap,
From enemies they have slain, And keep all their limbs in play,
They watch and wait both early and late Their lithe forms lave in the sparkling wave,
The approach of the settlers train. And the laws of their tribe obey.

And Buffalo Bill, who knows their ways, While the Indian maiden, with raven hair,
And the evil that they would do, Performs her duties apart
Puts foot to horse, and soon comes across With a touch of grace, and a smile on her face,
The track of the sneaking Sioux. And a sweet little dream in her heart.

And lucky for him if the band is small And though some in the red men's homes may long
And the weapons they hold but few, For wars that will never cease,
For he and his men may easily then There are others we know who would gladly go
Disperse the blood-thirsty crew. With the white men, and be at peace.
Disperse the blood-thirsty crew. With the white men, and be at peace.



















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The scouts and the settlers soon make friends, 0 Buffalo Bill like a spirit rides
And in company, side by side, And dashes across the plain;
At a pace not slow away they go, His wonderful steed to his voice gives heed
And over the prairies ride. And answers the touch of the rein.

The wild-woods ring with their merry songs, And swiftly the light lasso is flung,
And happy as they can be And seldom is it at fault,
Are the girls and boys, for each enjoys For it stops the speed of the flying steed,
A home in the wild-woods free. That's brought to a sudden halt.

And in fun and frolic they all delight, And to tame them and train them for future use
And practice their steeds with skill, Is a joy to Buffalo Bill,
And with wondrous grace they take their place And the cow-boys and he are as fond as can be
And their part in a gay quadrille. Of the sport that demands such skill.

Now right and left, and forward and back, And almost human the beasts become,
And around in a ring they go; And though under control of reins
' Then ladies chain, and back again, They are almost as free as they used to be
And promenade in a row. When roaming wild o'er the plains.
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At home in the saddle the young folks are And Buckskin Joe, and Hurricane Dick,
From morn until late at night, Regard her doings with pride,
And the girls and the boys make all the noise For to them she owes whatever she knows;
They can their steeds to affright. They taught her to shoot and to ride.

They fire their muskets; shattering stones Some horses there are that a man can trust,
That are thrown aloft in the air; But oh I it requires great pluck,
And are equally deft with right hand or left, It does, indeed, to manage a steed
In touching the target there. That is always disposed to buck."

And away with a swift and a steady pace, Then there's a fight between horse and man,
Like birds with their wide-spread wings, And the strength of the will is shown;
The good steeds go, and their rider's glow And sometimes, alas I it comes to pass
With the health that such pastime brings. That the rider is finally thrown.

And one who is more expert than the rest, And all these doings recorded here
The brave and the fearless Madge, In the haunts of the Buffalo,
For the skill displayed, and the records made, Where ,ne cowboys dwell, and the Indians yell,
Is worthy a marksman's badge. Are part of the WILD WEST SHOW.











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