Chenault's memory of the corn song is supported by another's memory, this time of the Bayou Teche country in south-central Louisiana of the 1830s. It was a sugar cane growing area. Here's the passage with lyrics quoted:

[begin quote]
In 1830, more than half the population of the Teche country were negroes, who were much pleased with the change from cotton to sugar. True, during the harvest or rolling season it was more laborious, with its woodcording and night watches, which they called
"towers,” which lasted from about October to January. But even this was better than the cold morning baths of cotton picking, which often lasted from August to February, the most continuous labor of all the field crops. ... Then, again, there was something inspiring about a cane-yard at night, all illuminated, that kept them in a merry mood, and the well-cared for negro seemed to be in his native element in scenes like this. His jokes and loud-ringing laugh kept time with the rattle of the cane as he dashed it on the carrier and wheeled to get another turn. All this was varied every now and then with some wild melody far superior to the Ethiopian minstrelsy of commerce. A leader gave it out line by line, often his own improvised words, when all, men, women, and boys, would join in the chorus that fairly made the old cane-shed shake. It was a long time ago, but we hear it still:

Dat little dog his name was Venter,
O juranzo, ho!
And he could run de coldest scent-er,
O juranzo, ho!
Possum good wid sop and tater,
O juranzo, ho!
Pretty gall, but can't get at her,
O juranzo, ho!

This short meter corn-song would hardly die away in the stilly night when another would be started up, perhaps on the dirge order, the negro's specialty, and then another and another—so with jests and laughter and songs the night would pass away.
[end quote]

Pp. 594-5 in Richardson, F.D. “The Teche Country Fifty Years Ago.” _The Southern Bivouac_ [Louisville, KY] Vol 1, no. 10 (March 1886).