I used to sport a white hat, a horse and buggy fine, Courted a pretty girl and always called her mine; But all my courtships proved to be in vain, For they sent me down to Huntsville to wear the ball and chain. 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 (Mus. Not.) When I was a young man I lived up-on the square, I nev-er had a-ny pock-et change and I hard-ly thought it fair, But out up-on the highway I went to rob and to steal, And when I met a ped-dler, Oh, how hap-py I did feel. 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. The shanghai ran off and the cattle all died, The last piece of bacon that morning was fried; Poor Ike got discouraged, and Betsy got mad, The dog wagged his tail and looked wonderfully sad. One morning they climbed up a very high hill, And with wonder looked down into old Placerville; Ike shouted and said, as he cast his eyes down, "Sweet Betsy, my darling, we've got to Hangtown." Long Ike and sweet Betsy attended a dance, Where Ike wore a pair of his Pike County pants; Sweet Betsy was covered with ribbons and rings. Quoth Ike, "You're an angel, but where are your wings?" A miner said, "Betsy, will you dance with me?" "I will that, old hoss, if you don't make too free; But don't dance me hard. Do you want to know why? Dog on ye, I'm chock full of strong alkali."