Choice gleanings from 45-plus years of Unregistered Bull.
"The meeting of the Hotel Lobby Loungers Assn. of America will now come to order," announced John. "And the purpose of this session will be to discuss and solve the worst problems of the cattle business.
"Heah, wait a minute," hollered an unidentified member. "What about the sheep business? Several of us fellers ain't too happy with it."
"We'll take that up next time," snapped John. "We've only got half an hour to get this cattle thing settled. Now, boys, what seems to be the worst worry in the cattle business?"
Everybody started yelling. One man from South Texas shouted "screwworms!" over and over at the top of his voice; another cried "rustlers!" and still another "high freight rates!" Suggestions ranged from "government controls" and "taxes" to "imports" and "depression talk."
"Order in the house!" hollered John. "There's only one man here that ain't making any noise, so I'm gonna give him the floor. It's Mr. Hornfly Hawkins. Hornfly, you've got the chair's permission to say any dang thing you want to."
"Mr. Chairman," said Hornfly, "there's a multitude of evils in the land of the cowboy, but all these other hombres here have completely overlooked what I consider the worst blight on the horizon of the cattle industry, which is the noblest callin' of man …"
"Hold it, Hornfly," interrupted John. "The rules of this outfit require you to either say something or shut up. No commercials."
"Okay, Mr. Chairman. The problem I refer to is this: Dudes in the Cattle Business.
"If you'll notice, every time we get a pretty fair cattle market, the economists claim we start increasing cattle numbers and thereby bring on our own market busts. Well, it ain't us that increases the beef supply so fast. It's the dudes. What I mean is, every time us cowboys start making' a little money, all the town boys want to get in on it. Half the soda jerkers, insurance salesmen, and ladies' ready-to-wear peddlers have a few cattle. The doctors, lawyers and oil men have a bunch.
"I'm here to tell you, gentlemen, it's the most serious thing facin' the industry today. It hasn't been over a week since a grocery store operator outbid me four-bits a hundred on a bunch of yearlings. I went to see about some summer pasture in New Mexico, and who do you think had already beat me to it? A car dealer from Waxahachie, Texas. Say, by the way, Mr. Chairman, before I forget it — what'd you decide about them steers I bid you on the other day?"
"Ahemmm!" said John. "Er, ha — well Hornfly, the truth of the matter is, I sold 'em yesterday. This hombre came along and bid a dollar over what you bid and I was afraid to let him drive off."
"Well, he must've been hurtin' for cattle awful bad," said Hornfly. "Do you mind tellin' us fellers who this Good Samaritan was?"
"He was a stranger to me," said John. "Name of Smithely or something like that, from Dallas. Said he had a shoe store up there and wanted to branch out a little bit. This meetin's adjourned!" — (S.F.
"The meeting of the Hotel Lobby Loungers Assn. of America will now come to order," announced John. "And the purpose of this session will be to discuss and solve the worst problems of the cattle business.
"Heah, wait a minute," hollered an unidentified member. "What about the sheep business? Several of us fellers ain't too happy with it."
"We'll take that up next time," snapped John. "We've only got half an hour to get this cattle thing settled. Now, boys, what seems to be the worst worry in the cattle business?"
Everybody started yelling. One man from South Texas shouted "screwworms!" over and over at the top of his voice; another cried "rustlers!" and still another "high freight rates!" Suggestions ranged from "government controls" and "taxes" to "imports" and "depression talk."
"Order in the house!" hollered John. "There's only one man here that ain't making any noise, so I'm gonna give him the floor. It's Mr. Hornfly Hawkins. Hornfly, you've got the chair's permission to say any dang thing you want to."
"Mr. Chairman," said Hornfly, "there's a multitude of evils in the land of the cowboy, but all these other hombres here have completely overlooked what I consider the worst blight on the horizon of the cattle industry, which is the noblest callin' of man …"
"Hold it, Hornfly," interrupted John. "The rules of this outfit require you to either say something or shut up. No commercials."
"Okay, Mr. Chairman. The problem I refer to is this: Dudes in the Cattle Business.
"If you'll notice, every time we get a pretty fair cattle market, the economists claim we start increasing cattle numbers and thereby bring on our own market busts. Well, it ain't us that increases the beef supply so fast. It's the dudes. What I mean is, every time us cowboys start making' a little money, all the town boys want to get in on it. Half the soda jerkers, insurance salesmen, and ladies' ready-to-wear peddlers have a few cattle. The doctors, lawyers and oil men have a bunch.
"I'm here to tell you, gentlemen, it's the most serious thing facin' the industry today. It hasn't been over a week since a grocery store operator outbid me four-bits a hundred on a bunch of yearlings. I went to see about some summer pasture in New Mexico, and who do you think had already beat me to it? A car dealer from Waxahachie, Texas. Say, by the way, Mr. Chairman, before I forget it — what'd you decide about them steers I bid you on the other day?"
"Ahemmm!" said John. "Er, ha — well Hornfly, the truth of the matter is, I sold 'em yesterday. This hombre came along and bid a dollar over what you bid and I was afraid to let him drive off."
"Well, he must've been hurtin' for cattle awful bad," said Hornfly. "Do you mind tellin' us fellers who this Good Samaritan was?"
"He was a stranger to me," said John. "Name of Smithely or something like that, from Dallas. Said he had a shoe store up there and wanted to branch out a little bit. This meetin's adjourned!" — (S.F.