If Davy Could Yodel
Davy
was the smallest cowboy on the Circle S Ranch.
But he could ride a horse as well as Slim or Tex or Shorty.
He could twirl a rope as well as Buck or Sandy or Will.
He could bulldog a steer as well as Charlie or Pecos or Ned.
But Davy couldn’t yodel.
All the other cowboys could yodel. Even Flapjack Pete, the cook, could yodel a little.
If Davy could yodel, he could enter the yodeling contest on Saturday and maybe win a hundred dollars and the silver yodeling cup.
Davy practiced yodeling all the time.
He practiced while he swept out the bunkhouse.
He practiced while he pumped water for the cook.
He practiced while he pitched hay for the horses.
“Keep trying,” said Slim, Ned, and Sandy. Davy did.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make it come out right.
The night before the contest Davy had a hard time going to sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about the first prize of a hundred dollars and the silver yodeling cup he might win, if only he could yodel.
After a while, Davy began to get cold. The fire in the big iron stove in the middle of the bunkhouse had gone out. Davy shivered under the covers. His teeth chattered. Then he heard his dog, Mutt, scratching at the bunkhouse door.
“Mutt
is cold, too,” thought Davy. “He wants to come
in.”
Davy got up and opened the door. Snow covered the ground.
Icicles hung from the eaves.
Suddenly, an icicle broke loose and fell. It slipped right down the neck of Davy’s long-handled underwear.
OOOH!
It was cold!
“Eeeow!” yelled Davy. “Eee—oh—ay—eee—oh!”
Slim, Buck, Pecos, and all the other cowboys came running. “What in the world—” cried Shorty.
“Why—why, Davy. You’re yodeling!” cried Slim.
“He is, at that,” said Buck. “And right smart, too.”
“Eee—oh—ay—eee—oh!” yelled Davy as the icicle slid farther down his back. He couldn’t believe it. He was yodeling. He sounded as good as Slim, Tex, Shorty, Pecos, Ned, Charlie, Buck, Sandy, or Will. And a whole lot better than Flapjack Pete.
Davy opened his mouth wide and threw back his head. Out came “Oh—lee—ay—dee—oh.”
Again and again and again.
On Saturday, cowboys from every part of the county came to yodel in the yodeling contest. They were all very good. But the judges decided that nobody could yodel quite like Davy. All the other cowboys agreed.
They whooped and hollered when the judges handed Davy the hundred dollars and the silver yodeling cup.
With the hundred dollars Davy opened up his own bank account.
The silver yodeling cup is on a shelf in the bunkhouse, right over Davy’s bunk. Every night before Davy goes to bed, he takes it down and polishes it on his shirttail—yodeling all the while,
“Oh—lee—ay—dee—oh.”
And all the cowboys holler, “Davy, hush up and go to sleep.”
