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Day ten of Froguary!
Years and years ago in the dangerous plains of the wild west, Hopalong Cassidy was ambushed by some good fer nothing bad eggs, lookin’ for trouble. They were a bunch of green horns though, all hat and no cattle, obviously too big for their britches. So, Hopalong beat them near an inch of their life, and sent them hollerin’ back to their mamas- but not before one got off a lucky shot at his leg. Every since his run in with those good fer nothin’ varmints, he’s had a limp. Now, he prefers his sarsaparilla and his solitude out in the open plains. You can be assured that that’s where you’ll find him- underneath the wide open skies- or on his Rooster Cogburn rustlin’ up some dragonflies.
Day ten of Froguary!
Years and years ago in the dangerous plains of the wild west, Hopalong Cassidy was ambushed by some good fer nothing bad eggs, lookin’ for trouble. They were a bunch of green horns though, all hat and no cattle, obviously too big for their britches. So, Hopalong beat them near an inch of their life, and sent them hollerin’ back to their mamas- but not before one got off a lucky shot at his leg. Every since his run in with those good fer nothin’ varmints, he’s had a limp. Now, he prefers his sarsaparilla and his solitude out in the open plains. You can be assured that that’s where you’ll find him- underneath the wide open skies- or on his Rooster Cogburn rustlin’ up some dragonflies.