An’ fitted in a proper neck—’twuz berry long an’ tap’rin’;
He tuk some tin, an’ twisted him a thimble fur to ring it;
An’ den de mighty question riz: how wuz he gwine to string it?
De ’possum had as fine a tail as dis dat I’s a-singin’;
De ha’r so long an’ thick an’ strong,—des fit fur banjo-stringin’;
Dat nigger shaved ’em off as short as wash-day-dinner graces;
An’ sorted ob ’em by de size, f’om little E’s to basses.
He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig,—’twas “Nebber min’ de wedder,”
She soun’ like forty-lebben bands a-playin’ all togedder;
Some went to pattin’; some to dancin’; Noah called de figgers;