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American Ballads and Folk Songs_______
Young mistah, kind massa, I am ristin' my life, Jes' to win a great forchun for you an' yo' wife, Yo' wife, man j yo' wife.
The kittledrum was a-bangin' an' the word was given "Run"; Ol' Stewball was tremblin' like a crim'nal to be hung, To be hung, manj to be hung.
When de hosses was saddled an' de word was given "Go," OP Stewball, he shot like an arrow from a bow, From a bow, man; from a bow.
De ol' folks, dey hollered, an' de young folks, dey bawlj
But de lil chillun des a-look-a-look-a-look at de noble Stewball,
Stewball, man; Stewball.
Ef you had-a been dere at de firs' runnin' 'roun', You a-swbre by yo' life dat dey never tech ground Tech groun', man; tech groun'.
Molly was a-climbin' dat great big long lane,
An' she said to her rider, "Caincha slack dat lef' rein?"
Lef rein, man; lef' rein.
OP Stewball was a-ramblin' up dat nine-mile-high hill; His jockey looked behin' him an' he spied ol' WiP * Bill, WiP Bill, man; WiP Bill.
De races, dey ended, an' de judges played de band, An' ol' Stewball beat Molly back to de gran' stan', Gran' stan', man; gran' stan'.
Me an' my husband offa gamblin': I'm fixin' my bed. My chillun stark naked: they is cryin', "Mo' bread." Mo' bread, man; mo' bread.