T I  MYS RT Y 
 
One Sunday morn the Deputy 
His cayuse did bestride, 
And far and wide the lonely hills 
He rode, till Vventide, 
At even' he shared his hungry lot 
.ith a Ranger bold and true, 
And lest you too should with him stop, 
This tale I'll tell to you. 
"I am a cook" this Ranger said; 
So by the lamplight's glimmer, 
The Deputy he smoied at ease-- 
The Ranger cooked the dinner. 
With furtive look he did produce 
An ancient hash machine. 
,'ith sinister smile he fed it 
By the lamplight's eerie gleam. 
He fed it eggs, ho fed it rice,-- 
nd onions, one or two, 
He fed it chili, meat, and spice, 
Nor cheese did he eschew. 
Then solemnly he milk did add; 
He stirred it, nice and even. 
With blithsome wink and whistle glad 
He put IT in the oven. 
The Deputy, he sat and smoked, 
Too late now to escape IT" 
The stove it burned as if provoked 
But patiently did bake IT. 
And now in mercy I'll omit 
The story of the dinner, --, 
Enough to say we are TT all 
By the l."mplight's eerie glimmer.