An’ soon he had a banjo made—de fust dat wuz invented.
He wet de ledder, stretched it on; made bridge, an’ screws, an’ apron;
An’ fitted in a proper neck—’twas bery long and tap’rin’;
He tuk some tin and twisted him a thimble for 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’s so long, an’ thick, an’ strong—jes’ fit for banjo stringin’—
Dat niggar shaved ’em off as short as washday dinner graces;
An’ sorted ob ’em by de size, from little E’s to basses.
He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig—’twas Nebber Min’ de Wedder—