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There are many more songs, and additions to songs, to be posted. some revisions to DT entries follow. "Joe Bowers" in the DT is much shortened, and not credited to the author.

Lyr. Add: JOE BOWERS

My name is Joe Bowers, I've got a brother Ike;
I come from old Missouri, yes, all the way from Pike;
I'll tell you why I left thar, and how I came to roam,
And leave my poor old mammy, so far away from home.

I used to have a gal thar, they called her Sally Black;
I axed her for to marry me, she said it was a whack;
"But," says she to me, "Joe Bowers, before we hitch for life,
You'd orter have a little home to keep your little wife."

Says I, "My dearest Sally, oh! Sally, for your sake,
I'll go to Californy, and try to raise a stake."
Says she to me, "Joe Bowers, oh, you're the chap to win,
Give me a buss to seal the bargain," and she threw a dozen in!

I shall ne'er forgit my feelins when I bid adieu to all;
Sally cotched me around the neck, then I began to bawl;
When they sot in, they all commenced-- you ne'er did hear the like,
How they all took on and cried, the day I left old Pike.

When I got to this 'ere country, I hadn't nary (a) red,
I had sich wolfish feelins, I wish'd myself most dead;
But the thoughts of my dear Sally soon made these feelins git,
And whispered hopes to Bowers-- Lord, I wish I had them yit!

At length I went to minin', put in my biggest licks,
Come down upon the boulders jist like a thousand bricks;
I worked both late and airly, in rain and sun and snow,
But I was working for my Sally, so was all the same to Joe.

I made a very lucky strike, as the gold itself did tell,
And saved it for my Sally, the gal I loved so well;
I saved it for my Sally, that I might pour it at her feet,
That she might hug and kiss me, and call me something sweet.

But one day I got a letter from my dear, kind brother, Ike--
It came from old Missouri, sent all the way from Pike;
It brought me the gol-darn'dest news as ever you did hear--
My heart is almost bustin', so, pray, wxcuse this tear.

It said my Sal was fickle, that her love for me had fled;
That she'd married with a butcher, whose har was owful red!
It told me more than that-- oh! it's enough to make one swar,
He said Sally had a baby, and the baby had red har!

Now, I've told you all I could tell about this sad affar,
'Bout Sally marryin' the butcher, and the butcher had red har.
Whether 'twas a boy or gal child, the letter never said,
It only said its cussed har was inclined to be a red!

J. E. Johnson, 1858, Johnson'd Original Comic Songs, pub. San Francisco. John Stone wasn't the only poet-composer in California in the Gold Rush days.
Taken from Lingenfelter and Dwyer, 1968, pp 96-97, with music ("Doniphan's Expedition") by J. T. Hughes, 1907. Song ID=3215 in the DT is incomplete, and not credited, but this song was passed by word of mouth all the way back east (and probably back again), so there are several versions. Allen (1874), Lomax (more than once), and others have published versions.

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