“My name it is Joe Bowers, I’ve got a brother Ike,
I come from old Missouri, yes, all the way from Pike.”
“Stop singin’ so loud, Tom,” cried Pike in alarm. “Don’t!” But Tom roared the louder—
“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.”
“Tom! Tom! Good Lord don’t!” begged Pike.
“I used to love 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.’”