With no hills a-interposin’, er no rocks, er airy tree.
Oh, I’ve told my husband, Ephrum, that I’d gallavant no more
When ag’in I’d sot my foot on old Newbrasky’s fertile shore.
Then I’m worried so ’bout Rhody, fur she’s missin’ ever’ day
All her lessons on th’ melojun that paw bought fur her last May,
An’ she could perform amazin’; she could play “Old Hundred” nice
An’ another song beginnin’ “Happy Day that Fixed My Ch’ice.”
Yes, th’ singin’ teacher told me as we parted at th’ keers,
He was shore she’d play th’ organ in th’ church ’fore many years.
Now her notion’s highkerflutin’, a pianner she wants now,