Wal, I Swan (Git Up, Napoleon)
I run the old mill over here in ReubensviUe,
My name`s Joshua Ebenezer Frye;
I know a thing or two, just bet your boots I do,
Can`t fool me `cause I`m too darn spry.
I`ve met your bunco men, always got the best of them;
Once I met a couple on a Boston train.
They says, `How be you ?` I says, `That`ll do-
Travel right along with your darned skinned game!`
cho: Wal, I swan, I must be getting on,
Git up, Napoleon, it looks likc rain ;
Wal, l`II be switched, the hay ain`t pitched;
Come in when you`re over to the farm again.
I drove the old mare over to the country fair,
Took first prize on a load of Summer squash.
Stopped at the cider mill coming over by the hill,
Come home tighter than a drum, by gosh!
I was so darned full I gave away the old bull,
Dropped both reins clean out on the fill;
Got home so darned late couldn`t find the barn gate,
Ma says, `Joshua, `tain`t poss-i-bil!`
We had a big show here about a week ago,
Pitched up a tent by the old mill dam;
Ma says, `Let`s go in to see the side show-
Just take a look at the tattooed man,`
I see a cuss look sharp at my pockethook,
Says, `Gimme two tens for a five?`
I says, `You darn fool, I be the constable-
Now you`re arrested sure as you`re alive.`
I drove the old bay into town yesterday,
Hitched her up to the railroad fence;
Tied_her good and strong, but a train came along-
I ain`t seen the horse or the wagon sense.
Had to foot it home, so I started off alone,
When a man says, `Hurry, your barn`s on fire!`
Wal, I had the key in my pocket, you see,
So I knew the cuss was a fool or a liar.
My son Joshua went to Philadelphia,
He wouldn`t do a day`s work if he could;
He didn`t give a darn about staying on the farm,
What he`s coming to ain`t no good.
Smokes cigarettes, too, way the city folks do,
Keeps a-writin` home he`s doing right well;
Seems kind of funny, but he`s always out of money-
Ma says the boy`s up to some kind of hell.
From Pious Friends, Shay