Her hair was th' color of 'lasses,
As soft as a bundle of wire;
An' birds made their nests in its fastness:
If they didn't I shore am a liar.
Gardner was stirred by the melody and burst into song out of sympathy:
Her eyes was as bright as old saddles,
An' crossed on th' end of her nose;
Her hands was as shapely as paddles
An' hung down almost to her toes.