Sourdough Dan

Sourdough Dan was a mining man
A prospector all the way
He worked his gold mine all day long
And seldom took time to play.
He never bothered with many tasks
Most folks did every day
Such as combing his hair and changing his clothes
And washing the grime away.

On Saturday nights he would go to town
To drink at the Grubstake Saloon,
Buy round after round for everyone
And raise toast after toast to the moon.
But in spite of all the drinks he bought
For Joe or Jack or Jim
He never could find a kindred soul
Who would sit down next to him.

The problem was not with Dan himself
Or that he failed to pay the bill
The problem was he smelled so bad
Being near him would make you ill.
As soon as you walked into the saloon
And whiffed that well known smell
You knew old Dan was at the bar
And to sit near him would be Hell.

One night old Dan was sitting there
Just drinking and acting cool
When suddenly, without a word
He fell down off his stool.
A few fellows rushed to where he lay
Twitching and in some pain
One put his hankie to his nose
So Dan’s scent he could strain.

They carried him to the bar’s back room
And sent for old Doc Jones
Doc checked him over carefully
Looking for broken bones.
Old Doc could find no sign of a break
As Dan lay groaning there
Said Doc, “We’ll have to strip him down,
Let’s get off his underwear.”

But Dan had worn that suit so long
That much to their chagrin
When they tried to strip it off
They stripped off hunks of skin.
Old Dan howled and screamed and groaned
And called their ancestors a name
But he was blind with fear and pain
And wouldn’t know who to blame.

When they finally had the danged thing off
And Dan in his birthday suit
They found the reason for his pain
And boy, was it a beaut.
Right in old Dan’s union suit
Where his privates came to rest
A little mouse had made a home
And built herself a nest

“All those sticks and odds and ends,”
Doc Jones said, with restraint,
“Had cut Dan’s circulation off
And caused poor Dan to faint.”
They took Dan’s poke of hard won gold
Down to the general store
And bought a brand new union suit
The kind he usually wore.

The old suit they threw in the fire
And burned the grime away.
Now Dan sits in quiet rhapsody
And emits a new bouquet.
He buys the drinks for all his friends
Who come from far and wide;
But the old iron stove where his suit was burned
They had to throw outside