| THE FIRST CHRISTMAS AND THE COWBOY Did you know there was a cowboy on that first Christmas day? Someone had to clean out the stall and fill the manger with hay. The cowboy rode in off the range just before sunset the evenin’ before. He saw all the commotion in town and wondered what was in store. He had enjoyed the beauty of the stars many a night, But this time one star was extra sparkly and bright. The cowboy rode straight to the barn to get his horse unsaddled and fed. Then he planned to find himself some grub and got right on to bed . But, when he got to the barn something strange was takin’ place. Standin’ there in the alley was an obvious maternity case. Now, the cowboy had assisted many a birth there in the barn, But this one would sound like he was spinnin’ a yarn. For there was a beautiful young lady about to give birth. But, why in his barn of all places on earth? The cowboy quickly looked over the task that he faced. He could see there was no time he could waste. He picked up a pitchfork and cleaned out a stall. Then spread clean new beddin’ from wall to wall. The manger he filled with the finest of hay. A place for the comin’ new baby to lay. Then the cowboy hung around the barn incase his help was needed, Until the baby was born and the clean-up completed. He then fell asleep on the hay up in the loft. But, was soon awakened by singin’ so heavenly soft. He looked down in amazement as shepherds came to visit the new baby boy. And in his own heart he was filled with such Heavenly joy. From that time on, the cowboy pondered the things that were done, The night he assisted the birth of God’s only Son. John Schaffner © 12/24/95 |
Cowboy of Many Talents, John Schaffner
Cowboy Poet and Chuckwagon cook extraordinaire John Schaffner will be featured on Cowboys-n-
Cowgirls as the Resident Circuit Minister. "Pa", as he is fondly known to his friends is quite often
called upon to spread the the gospel at Cowboy Church Services at Western Gatherings.
Born a hundred years too late, John was born and raised in Ferriday, Louisiana where he learned the
art of cowboyin’ from a genuine old time cowboy who was born in the 1800’s. If he had been
born in 1851, as he should have been, he would have been just the right age to be one of the cowboys on
the trail drive when Charles Goodnight’s first Chuckwagon headed up the trail from Texas in 1866.
John and his wife Roberta now reside in a log cabin near Wray, Colorado were they enjoy passing down
their heritage to eight grandchildren.
For many years John has been sharing the cowboy culture with others around the country through his
original Cowboy Poetry as well as the old classic poems that were actually written as the West was being
settled. He can often be seen at WestFest and is a favorite at gatherings across the U.S. He has his own
Chuckwagon from which he serves up some of the best Cowboy grub in all the west and is available for
bookings as a cook and/or a performer. John is also an auctioneer and a real estate associate broker.
We are proud to present some of John's poetry this Christmas season and to highly recommend his
chuckwagon food.
Check out John at his pages Here on CnC
Cowboy Poet and Chuckwagon cook extraordinaire John Schaffner will be featured on Cowboys-n-
Cowgirls as the Resident Circuit Minister. "Pa", as he is fondly known to his friends is quite often
called upon to spread the the gospel at Cowboy Church Services at Western Gatherings.
Born a hundred years too late, John was born and raised in Ferriday, Louisiana where he learned the
art of cowboyin’ from a genuine old time cowboy who was born in the 1800’s. If he had been
born in 1851, as he should have been, he would have been just the right age to be one of the cowboys on
the trail drive when Charles Goodnight’s first Chuckwagon headed up the trail from Texas in 1866.
John and his wife Roberta now reside in a log cabin near Wray, Colorado were they enjoy passing down
their heritage to eight grandchildren.
For many years John has been sharing the cowboy culture with others around the country through his
original Cowboy Poetry as well as the old classic poems that were actually written as the West was being
settled. He can often be seen at WestFest and is a favorite at gatherings across the U.S. He has his own
Chuckwagon from which he serves up some of the best Cowboy grub in all the west and is available for
bookings as a cook and/or a performer. John is also an auctioneer and a real estate associate broker.
We are proud to present some of John's poetry this Christmas season and to highly recommend his
chuckwagon food.
Check out John at his pages Here on CnC
| TRAVIS GOOD I knowed a Texas boy name of Travis Good Who set his horse like a cowboy should In a A-fork, high-back usin' kak on a little dun pony as he called Jack. 'Bout as plain as a feller anywhere. He could ride any horse with laigs an' hair. He could rope it an' throw it if'n it could run. He made a purty fair hand at a-slingin' a gun. He were a dandy partner of a Saturday night, ready to dance or ready to fight, Quick with a story an' quick with a joke An' quick with a dollar if'n you was broke. He done some time back East somewhere fer bustin' a cap on a feller there, but he swang a tight loop like the rest of us an' we could count on him, come fair or fuss. Come early December on a warm clear day the Boss sent him off thirty miles away a-herdin' eight span of mules to the neighbor's place, 'bout a two-days' circle at an easy pace. He'd bin gone a few hours when the sky went black an' the hailstones flew an' the thunder cracked an' them sixteen mules they broke an' ran spreadin' out all over, like a lady's fan. He was chasin' them mules in the howlin' cold when ol' Jack stuck a laig down a critter hole, broke his neck when he landed an' lit on his side an' Travis was stuck there an' that's where he died. The rain rained harder and the wind blowed cold an' it froze to his horse an' his saddle an' clothes. With the stub of a pencil from his saddlebag, he writ down what happened on his white neck rag. "Well, I'm stuck down here an' I can't git loose. I'm mashed underneath this little cayuse. I'm so far underneath the saddletree, I can't reach to cut my girt strap free. The ground's so hard I cain't dig out. I'm stove up good, I hopes to shout! Who'd a thought this pony's as heavy as that? He' purt near mushed me dang near flat! It's snowin' now and driftin' tight. Don't guess I'll see you boys tonight. It's gittin' colder and freezin' hard. Looks like I'm a-holdin' the Dead Man's cards. Well, Pete. Write to my daddy an' tell him I'm dead. I ain't a-comin' home 'cause I'm buried instead. Tell Momma I'm sorry. I won't never come back 'cause I froze in a blizzard, stuck underneath Jack. My possibles is fer you fellers to keep. Now, dang it to blazes, I'm a-goin' to sleep!" We found him out there on the seventh day an' we chopped him loose from where he lay. We hitched up the wood sled an' fetched him in. Pete writ that letter that was asked of him. We took him to town an' they dug him a hole. We sadly buried him, rest his soul. His trails is all traveled. He's under the sod. An' another good puncher rides his circles fer God. ©Jeff Streeby **************** The Wild Crew As I rode out this morning, Four Riders did I see. They were in the clouds above Square Butte And they come ridin’ straight at me. One rider forked a chestnut colt that reared and squealed and blowed. A buckskin mare, just hide and bones, A second rider rode. A third bestrode a haggard black, all sick and hollow-eyed, And used him hard with quirt and word, And spurred him, too, besides. The fourth one set a pale horse, and he seemed the one to note... And when I recognized him, Bile rose up in my throat. For then I knowed each sev’ral one that rode in that Wild Crew, And like they rode at me today Some day they’ll ride at you. A killer rides that red horse, and that horse’s name is War. That buckskin mare is Famine That the second rider bore. The third, he topped Black Pestilence, vile sickness and disease. The pale roder on the flea-bit grey Pinched Death between his knees. When that Rider calls your name, it’ll turn your blood to ice. For the wages of your sins is death, And Eternity’s the price... To ride the Waste behind them, is to wear the Devil’s brand, For when you wear a heart so black, You can’t make God a hand... Well, they rode on by and let me be, so’s I could bring this tale to you, But I know dang well I won’t ride on, From another rendezvous. So, when they come, you’ll know ‘em now. They’re Outlaw Gallows-bait. They’re somewheres a-doggin’ our back trail...And don’t you think they ain’t. ©Jeff Streeby |
| THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST My dearest wife's departed dad Had been a horseman in the Cav', A farrier, packer, a trader, too, she says. He'as a hard man...one quick to notice wrongs, But play an ol' time Christmas song; He softened up like cold butter on hot bread. The sacred Christmas season through He'as like the feller who Had never knowed no disappointments ner no griefs. He growed cheerful an' pleasant, consid'rate an' kind, With a more fergivin' turn o' mind, He reconfirmed him in his childhood's strong beliefs. Then he'd tell 'em of his mother, One long-lost brother er 'nother, An' them Christmases long ago out on the farm... The awful deep an' bitin' cold an' drifted snows, How fierce an' strong the winds'id blow, An' o' the cozy, tight-chinked cabin, snug an' warm. How pow'rful restless that he'd be How they'd dress up an' deck the tree, After the painted cones an' popcorn strings'as hung, 'Til in the mornin' he'as fer sure ol' St. Nick Just hadn't left him rocks an' sticks... New shoes an' a orange drawed smiles when he'as young. Them days long gone would grow to be His stuff o' dreams an' revery An' his eyes would seem to see to other Christmas eves. An' then a quiet, perfect peacefulness would grow Around 'em in the firelights' glow As he'd help 'em how to know an' believe. He taught 'em well how all the land Wore a devine an' perfect Brand An' showed 'em how to know their places in creation... Taught 'em well about that far-off holy stable An' o' the stockman, strong an' able, Who'd travelled to share the Christmas revelation. He taught 'em o' the three wise kings, The Christmas star an' other things That shaped His upright, humble life, 'thout blame er sin... How He come at last to a painful, awful death An' after three days drawed new breath In the Spring, 'bout the time the calves is gathered in. Then ev'ry Christmas mornin' bright After the gifts an' cherry pie, While the feast'as in the oven, a-smellin' fine, They'd jus' saddle all them good horses up an' go Out through the pine trees an' snow, Dad, an' Mama an' seven kids all in a line. This her fondest childhood fun... Horse breath a-blowin', cold winter sun, Cold, stiff saddles a-creakin' her Daddy's grin, Cold feet, froze mittens, cold, stiff reins, an' bits a-clinkin', Horse a-dancin' and a-dinkin', Her heart warmed through by ties o' blood an' kith an' kin. Them rides'as over way too soon. They'as back 'bout mid-afternoon, An' the tack'as in the saddlehouse, put up neat; The horses, fed hot mashes o' lick an' eggs an' bran; Th kids, a-nursin' frozen hands, Then her family all set down at last an' eat. She'd always missed them childhood times, So when our little boy turned five She asked me could we jus' saddle up an' go Out fer a little Christmas morning family ride. No, she ain't one who'll be denied, No matter them ol' jades saddle fresh an' ain't no snow. So I screws the rigs on Roany, Magic, Scatter, a' the pony, An' we trail out through the ocotillo an' mesquite. There ain't no pines er snow fer a hundred miles But when out little Kali smiles I tell you, friends, that's sure a pleasurable treat. Though this country's dry an' seared An' ain't no snow er pine trees near, Still I kin tell by the way Mom's eyes is a-shinin' bright That she's 'mongst the pine trees and the snows Of far away an' long ago An' the ghosts of Christmases past gives her delight. It leads me to strange cogitations To roll with this here corporation... Mama rides a trail of memory on her bay, Cutter ropes imagined mossback's of o' Roany, Kalireyna's on her pony, An I'm feelin' pinched 'tween o' now an' yesterday. 'Cause there's that rider in the lead No one but Mama's ever see'd Whose Christmas visits gives me strange sensations... An though I never see'd his face ner heard his voice An' never really had no choice, I find I'm glad to be a'raisin' his relations. So here I'm a-wishin' you the kind o' cheer The season brings to me... Warm hearth-side with the family Gathert 'round a Christmas tree, A peaceful heart an' peace o' mind an' love an' charity An' a welcome ghost amongst you there...er mabbe two er three. ©Jeff Streeby |
| ~ Love of the West ~ Western Interview Series FEATURED POET Jeff Streeby By: Debra Coppinger Hill Photo by Wendy Kunkle |
| Old Yellow Slicker Productions is pleased to announce that we have partnered up with Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com! C-n-C will be featuring our newsletter, the Old Yellow Slicker Cowboy Gazette on a monthly basis. The public will be able to access information on Old Yellow Slicker Productions, The Cowboy Gazette and the Love of the West interview series as well as enjoying the Cowboy poetry, stories, news and Western art that C-n-C is famous for. Known for it's honesty and integrity, Cowboys-n-Cowgirls web site is rated number one in the search engines and features the wonderful equine and Western art of Resident Artist D.Enise. Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com now has free photo classified ads for horses, trailers, stock dogs and tack. C-n-C is now part of a world wide web network that provides you with network wide exposure for your online ads for livestock, tack and other Western lifestyle rigging. You can list your livestock and tack for sale with up to four photos for free by going to http://www.cowboys-n-cowgirls.com and clicking on the link. (For a fee there are a variety of feature options such as giving your ad exposure on the prime pages and some on a rotating basis.) Still in need of last minute Christmas gifts? Check out the Equine and Western art and photography at http://www.allthingscowboy.com This gallery of gift items includes shirts, caps, coffee cups, lunch boxes and more. As an added feature, for an additional fee, they will custom make art for you from your photograph or ideas to place on the articles in the store. The store is open and can also be reached through Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com and accepts credit cards. Here at SIlverCreek we'll be featuring the very best in Cowboy and Western Christmas Books & Music. Every few days or so, we'll add other products at very special prices. So come back everyday and shop right in the comfort of your home! For that Western Movie enthusiast on your list there's not a better gift than these two books by Charles LeSeuer! The Legends Live On: Interviews with the Cowboy Stars of the Silver Screen and Riding the Hollywood Trail: Tales of the Silver Screen Cowboys. Jean and Gary Prescott: A package of 4 tapes for only $25.00. Yep, that's right, only $25.00. If bought separately these retail for over $40.00 The package includes: Prairie Flowers, The Eyes of Texas, Me and My Pard and Rough Country-Wild Cattle. Women of Western Poetry (CD's): For those that would rather listen to great poetry than read it we offer two Academy of Western Artists Award Winners! Common Sense, Men and Horses by Debra Coppinger Hill & My Home On The Range by Yvonne Hollenbeck If purchased separately $26.98 Cowboy Christmas Special Only $22.00 Women of Western Poetry (Books): It just doesn't get any better than this for gift giving. Linda Kirkpatrick & Yvonne Hollenbeck. Somewhere in the West & Where Prairie Flowers Bloom The Western Gospel pack includes:Tapestry of the West - Jean Prescott,The Place Where I Worship - The Rockin' M Wranglers, Church at the Wagon - Fletcher Jowers. If purchased seperately $41.93 Cowboy Christmas Special Only $35.00 Free with purchase of the Western Gospel Pack "The Way For Cowboys" . Ranchers, rodeo professionals and fans, or folks who simply love the cowboy lifestyle will identify with The Way for Cowboys NIV New Testament. Cowboy prayers and poetry are featured along with 16 pages of Bible helps plus 48 full-color pages of pictures and testimonies from eight Christian cowboys. Designed to fit comfortably in back pocket, boot or saddlebag. Gospel plan included. 544 pages. Dimensions: (3-5/8" x 5-1/4") Makes a great stocking stuffer too! You can build your own special with the Cowboy Poetry Sampler Pack - Cassettes: Choose any 2 titles for only $17.00 OR Choose any 3 titles for only $25.00. Includes titles by Debra Coppinger Hill, Robert Beene and Jay Snider and others. Check SilverCreek for other specials on Cowboy Cookbooks, Poetry and Music. |
| December 2003 Page 2 |
| "Cowboy Gazette" |
| ~ OLD YELLOW SLICKER AND COWBOYS-N-COWGIRLS ~ |
| ~ Allthingscowboy.com ~ |
| ~ SilverCreek Cowboy Christmas Specials ~ * |
| More of this News Letter on Page 3 ~ More of John Schaffner Cowboy Poet ~ Poetry by Donna Hatten ~ CALENDAR OF EVENTS ~ The Cowboy Gazette sponsores |
| ~ Visit Jeffs Pages here on CnC to read more ~ |
| Copyright 2001-2003 © Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com / And or Authors or Agents All Rights Reserved |
| Jeff Streeby, Cowboy, Teacher,Poet |
| ~ FREE EQUINE PHOTO ADS ~ |
A Few more of John's Cowboy Poetry,
The First, is featured on our Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com Christmas Card!
The First, is featured on our Cowboys-n-Cowgirls.com Christmas Card!
| ~ COWBOY CHURCH ~ |
| John Schaffner Pictured here performing with Michael Martin Murphey in N.Platte Neb Photo by D.Enise |