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Show DESCRIPTION OF THE COUNTRY Oi THE w mm Many years ago a poetic sergeant belonging to the Sixth cavalry of the regular army write a description of the Rio Grande, which was widely circulated cir-culated among the soldiers. This sergeant, whose name has passed from the memory of even the old-time citizens and army officers, was stationed sta-tioned at Fort Brown when he wrote "Hell on the Rio Grande," which was the title he gave the poetic and realistic real-istic description of the sun-baked frontier country. The poem follows: The devil, we're told, in bell was chained, And a thousand years he there remained; re-mained; He never complained, nor did he groan, But determined to start a hell of his own, Where he could torment the souls of men Without being chained in 1 a prison pen. So he asked the Lord if he had on hand Anything left when he made the land. The Lord said, "Yes, I had plenty of land, But I left it down on the Rio Grande, The fact is, old boy, the stuff is so poor I don't think you could use it in hell any more." But the devil went down to look at the truck, And said if it came as a gift he was stuck; For after examining it carefully and well He concluded the place was too dry I for hell. So in order to get it off of his hands The Lord promised the devil to water the lands; For he had somo water, or rather some dregs. A regular cathartic that smelled like bad eggs. Hence the deal was closed and the deed was given, And the Lord went back to his home in heaven, And the devil then said, "I have all that is needed. To make a good hell, and well ne succeeded. He began to put thorns on all of the trees, And he mixed up the sand with millions mil-lions of fleas; And scattered tarantulas along all the roads; Put thorns on the cactus and horns on the toads. He lengthened the horns of the Texas steers, And he put an addition on the jack-rabbits' jack-rabbits' ears; He put a little devil in the broncho steeds, And poisoned the feet of the centipede. centi-pede. The rattlesnake bites you, the scorpio stings, The mosquito delights you with buzzing buz-zing wings; Tho sand burrs prevail and so do the ants, And those who sit down need half soles on their pants. The devil then said that throughout the land He'd managed to keep up the devil's own brand; And all would be mavericks unless thoy boro The marks of scratches and bites and thorns by the score. i The heat In the summer is a hundred and ten, Too hot for the devil and too hot for men. The wild boar roams through tho black chaparrol It's a hell of a plate he has for a hell The red pepper grows on the banks of the brooks; The Mexicans uso It In all that they cook. Just dine with greaser and then you will shout: "I've hell on the Insldo as well as the out." oo |