CHORUS.

Ha, ha, ha, yah, yah, yah,

The gal from the South;

Her hair it curl’d so very tight,

She could not shut her mouth.

Her nose, it was so very long,

It turn’d up like a squash,

And when she got her dander up,

She made me laugh, by gosh!

Old Massa had no hooks or nails

Or nothing else like that,

So on this darkie’s nose he used

To hang his coat and hat.

_Chorus._--Ha, ha, ha, yah, yah, yah, &c.

One morning Massa going away,

He went to get his coat,

But neither hat nor coat was there,

For she had swallow’d both.

He took her to a tailor shop,

To have her mouth made small,

The lady took in one long breath,

And swallow’d tailor and all!

_Chorus._--Ha, ha, ha, yah, yah, yah, &c.

28

Commence you Darkies all.

Copied by permission of FIRTH, POND, & CO., 547 Broadway, owners

of the copyright.

White folks, I am goin’ to sing

A song dat am quite new,

Ob myself an’ banjo-string,

An’ you, an’ you, an’ you!

Oh, Sam, don’t laugh, I say,

Our strings will keep in tune,

Just listen to de banjo play

For de white folks ’round de room!