Author: "Haywire" Harry Mcclintock

In the high Sierra mountains came an SP passenger train,
the hobos tried to ride her, but alas was all in vain.
The conductor took the tickets as he counted every soul,
while the engineer looked straight ahead, and the fireman he shoveled coal.

Now the fireman he was a cowboy, but do not think it strange,
he could make more money shoveling coal than riding on the range.
And though he was a fireman, and though he had to sweat,
He still remained a Western boy and he kept his lariat.
Now the train was way behind time, and the passengers all were wild,
When on the track a-sudden, there strolled a little child.

Her hair in golden ringlets, was hanging down her back,
She little knew her danger grave as she strolled along that track.

"My gosh!", the Hogshead shouted, as he slammed on all his brakes,
I'll never stop this SP train, 'cause I ain't got what it takes!
Up stepped the cowboy fireman, and a gallant lad was he,
He said, "I'll save that baby, if I wreck this whole SP!"

He stepped out on the running board, with tears his eyes were wet,
While in his hand our hero brave, bore his trusty lariat.

He quickly dropped a fast loop 'round a pole beside the track,
And then he tied the other end around that big smoke stack.
Well he jerked that train right off the rails, and caused an awful wreck,
While in the ditch our hero lay with engine on his neck.

Oh we will long remember that 45th of May,
There were many with gallant hearts, all filled with fear that day.
Well they buried that poor fireman where the prairie winds,
He killed 200 passengers, but he saved that little child!