American Ballads and Folk Songs: page - 0169

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OP Stewball was a fas' hoss. I wish he was mine. He never drunk water, but always drunk wine,
Drunk wine, man; drunk wine. (Chorus, etc.; also for each follow­ing stanza.)
OP Stewball was a white horse befo' dey painted him red. But he winned a great forchun jes' befo' he fell dead, Fell dead, manj fell dead.
Well, his bridle was silver an' his saddle was gol', An' de price on his blanket hasn't never been tol', Been tol', man; been tol'.
There's a big day in Dallas: doncha wish you was there? ' You could bet yo' las' dolluh on dat iron-gray mare, Gray mare, man; gray mare.
There's a big bell on a tassel for dem hosses to run, Young ladies, young gen'lemun, from Baltimo' come, Mo' come, man; mo' come.
OP Missus bet millions an' Massa bet poun's,
Dat ol' Stewball could beat Molly on any ol' groun',
OP groun', man; oP groun'.