Saturday Horse Sales, 1985
Saturday Horse Sales, 1985
On Saturdays when I was young,
We’d all go into town,
To bid at the horse sale,
You could buy ‘em by the pound.
Thirty-one cents a pound to start ‘em,
It may sound cruel now,
But in those long gone days,
We’d buy ‘em like a cow.
Of course we made some difference,
Based on appearance and gait,
How well they could be ridden,
And if the owner talked half straight.
Look out boys here comes a filly,
They say she ain’t yet be tried,
We’ll start her at five hunnerd, boys!
Let your conscience be your guide!
A pair of mules that came in together,
Though I doubt that’s how they worked.
One shows to be nigh twenty years old,
But it don’t look like she’s hurt.
The nigh one is little bit game,
I don’t reckon I’d touch his feet,
They say he’ll rack to beat the band,
He’ll roll on down the street.
I’ve seen several good fat ponies,
And you know where they’ll go,
I hear the ships waiting off shore,
For two hundred head or more.
There’s a one eyed jack a brayin’,
And he’s cribbin’ on the beams,
His legs are bowed and spavined,
But the needed parts work it seems.
That roman nosed ol’ sorrel horse,
With two white feet in back,
He’ll likely be the last to sell,
And then they’ll start the tack.
Pap’s wore out McClellan,
His pap brought home with him from France,
I’d let it go for twenty-five,
If I get half a chance.
I like that Billy Cook sitting there,
With all the frills and trim,
The seller wants three hundred,
But I’ll offer two to him.
I’ve seen a lot of harness tonight,
Some with cracked and busted hames,
That set there is fit for loggin’,
And has good hooks and chains.
There’s a pile of wore out collars,
Single trees and such,
I like that set with the silver spots,
But it’s likely too hot to touch.
And before we know it, the sale’s over,
Bring the trailer round,
Come mornin’ in the light of day,
We’ll ponder the deals we’ve found.
If you think you mighta got taken,
And your nerve starts feeling week,
Don’t fret too long nor worry to much,
You can bring her back next week.