But dat didn’t stop de freshet—O, de Lord wus mad as pizen—
An’ de rain it kep’ er fallin’, an’ de crick it kep’ er risin’!
Den de mule he float de ark out near de hill dey all wus founded,
An’ tell ’em all to swim for it or stay dar an’ git drownded!
“An’ lem me tell you now, my friends, I want no half-way racin’—
Dar’s jes’ one way for you to swim, an’ dat’s to swim a-pacin’.”
An’ den dey all struck Nachur’s gait—de snake led de processhun!
De coon, de b’ar, de eliphunt—dey swum like all possesshun!
All but Tom Hal, he stood an’ snort so sassy like an’ plucky,
An’ swore he wouldn’t pace at all—dat he cum frum Kentucky.