Drivin' fe'r her yisterday,

Me and Jonas—gay and spry,—

We jes cut up, all the way!—

Yes, and sung!—tel, blame it! I

Keyed my voice up 'bout as high

As when—days 'at I wuz young—

"Buckwheat-notes" wuz all they sung

Jonas bantered me, and 'greed

To sing one 'at town-folks sing

Down at Split Stump 'er High-Low—