Here's Your Mule

C. D. Benson, 1862

A farmer came to camp one day
With milk and eggs to sell,
Upon a "male" that oft would stray,
To where no one could tell.
The farmer tired of his tramp
For hours was made a fool,
By ev'ry one he met in camp
With "Mister, here's your mule!"

Chorus:
Come on, come on, come on, old man
And don't be made a fool,
By ev'ry one you meet in camp
With "Mister, here's your mule!"

His eggs and chickens all were gone,
Before the break of day;
The mule was heard of all along,
That's what the soldiers say,
And still he hunted all day long,
Alas! a witless tool,
Whilst ev'ry man would sing the song,
Of, "Mister, here's your mule."
Chorus:

The soldiers run in laughing mood,
On mischief were intent;
They lifted muley on their back,
Around from tent to tent,
Thro' this hole and that, they pushed
His bead and made a rule
To shout with hum'rous voices all,
"I say! Mister, here's your mule."
Chorus:

Alas, one day the mule was miss'd!
Ah! who could tell his fate?
The farmer like a man bereft,
Search'd early and search'd late,
And as he passed from camp to camp,
With stricken face, - the fool,
Cried out to ev'ry one he met,
"Oh, Mister, where's my mule?"
Chorus:


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