Swung my hick'ry an' Ball he sprung We bid fare-thee-well to the wagon tongue.
Fire in the mountain, fun, boys, fun, Cat's in the cream jug, run, gals, run.
Hogs in the 'tater patch, that I know, Cows in the cornfield told me so.
First to the white house, then to the jail, Tore my pants on a rusty nail.
Old dog Towser standin' on the gate, Smelled meat a-fryin' an' he said he couldn't wait.
1926, Mrs Elizabeth Typer, Arkansas.
Ducks in the mill pond, geese in the clover, Tell them pretty gals I'm a-comin' over. How you gittin' 'long, gittin' 'long, Josie? How you gittin' 'long, gittin' 'long, Jo?