Classic Poem

When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp,
All th' fellers gather 'round,
An' help on with th' music,
By a-stompin' on th' ground;
An' th' cook he cuts a shuffle,
An' the night hawk pats his hand,
When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp,
In a way to beat th' band.

When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp,
An' we've cached our chuck away,
An' a-feelin' mighty foxy
An' a feelin' mighty gay,
There's nothin' we like better
Than to lend a pattin' hand,
When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp,
In a way to beat th' band.

When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp—
Plays a cake walk mighty fine—
'Tis then us ole cowpunchers
Come a-steppin' down th' line;
Around th' fire shuffilin'
An' a-pattin' of th' hand,
When Dutchy plays th' mouth harp,
In a way to beat th' band.