Along came my true love, about twelve o'clock,
Saying, "Henry, O Henry, what sentence have you got?"
The jury found me guilty, the judge would allow no stay,
So they sent me down to Huntsville to wear my life away.
Root Hog or Die
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SWEET BETSY FROM PIKE
"A California Immigrant Song of the Fifties"
Oh, don't you remember sweet Betsy from Pike
Who crossed the big mountains with her lover Ike,
And two yoke of cattle, a large yellow dog,
A tall, shanghai rooster, and one spotted hog?
Saying, good-bye, Pike County,
Farewell for a while;
We'll come back again
When we've panned out our pile.
One evening quite early they camped on the Platte,
'Twas near by the road on a green shady flat;
Where Betsy, quite tired, lay down to repose,
While with wonder Ike gazed on his Pike County rose.
They soon reached the desert, where Betsy gave out,
And down in the sand she lay rolling about;
While Ike in great terror looked on in surprise,
Saying "Betsy, get up, you'll get sand in your eyes."
Saying, good-bye, Pike County,
Farewell for a while;
I'd go back to-night
If it was but a mile.
Sweet Betsy got up in a great deal of pain
And declared she'd go back to Pike County again;
Then Ike heaved a sigh and they fondly embraced,
And she traveled along with his arm around her waist.
The wagon tipped over with a terrible crash,
And out on the prairie rolled all sorts of trash;
A few little baby clothes done up with care
Looked rather suspicious,—though 'twas all on the square.