From the Omaha Daily Bee, May 24, 1915. By Arthur Chapman.

From old New York we journeyed westward—
    ’Twas something like two weeks ago—
We both were armed with six-foot tickets
    Which read for Sheridan, Wyo.;
When we arrived we bought sombreros
    And I donned cowboy boots, well greased,
Yet people say, whene’er they meet us:
    “We see you folks are from the east.”

We thought a few more things were needed
    To make us fit the western scene,
So chaps and spurs I quickly purchased—
    Likewise a shirt of vivid green;
My wife is dressed like Annie Oakley—
    She looks a movie queen at least—
Yet people say, whene’er they greet us:
    “We see you’re just here from the east.”

We’ve loaded up with deadly weapons,
    We’ve raised our boot heels one inch more;
We’re wearing hatbands made of snakeskin,
    We’ve read up on wild western lore;
We talk of trappers, scouts and cowboys;
    Each rides a livery stable beast;
But still we hear that hated greeting:
    “We see you’re not long from the east.”