The Fine Arkansas Gentleman

I.
Now all good fellows, listen, and a story I will tell
Of a mighty clever gentleman who lives extremely well
In the western part of Arkansas, close to the Indian line,
Where he gets drunk once a week on whisky, and immediately
sobers himself completely on the very best of wine;
A fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

II.
This fine Arkansas gentleman has a mighty fine estate
Of five or six thousand acres or more of land, that will
be worth a great deal some day or other if he don’t
kill himself too soon, and will only condescend to wait;
And four or five dozen negroes that would rather work than not,
And such quantities of horses, and cattle, and pigs, and other poultry,
that he never pretends to know how many he has got;
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

III.
This fine Arkansas gentleman has built a splendid house
On the edge of a big prairie, extremly well populated with
deer, and hares, and grouse;
And when he wants to feast his friends he has nothing more to do
Than to leave the pot-lid off, and the decently behaved
birds fly straight into the pot, knowing he’ll shoot
them if they don’t; and he has a splendid stew,
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

IV.
This fine Arkansas gentleman makes several hundred bales,
Unless from drought or worm, a bad stand, or some other
damned contingency, his crop is short or fails;
And when it’s picked, and ginned, and baled, he puts it on a boat,
And gets aboard himself likewise, and charters the bar, and has
a devil of a spree, while down to New Orleans he and his cotton float,
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

V.
And when he gets to New Orleans he sacks a clothing store,
And puts up at the City Hotel, the St. Louis, the St. Charles,
the Veranda, and all the other hotels in the city,
if he succeeds in finding any more;
Then he draws upon his merchant, and goes about and treats
Every man from Kentucky, and Arkansas, and Alabama,
and Virginia, and the Choctaw nation, and every
other damned vagabond he meets!
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

VI.
The last time he was down there, when he thought of going back,
After staying about fifteen days, more or less, he discovered
that by lending and by spending, and being a prey in general to
gamblers, hackmen, loafers, brokers, hoosiers, tailors, servants,
and many other individuals, white and black,
He distributed his assets, and got rid of all his means,
And had nothing left to show for them, barring two or three
headaches, an invincible thirst, and an extremely general and
promiscuous acquaintance in the afore said New Orleans;
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

VII.
Now, how this gentleman got home is neither here nor there,
But I’ve been credibly informed that he swore worse than
forty-seven pirates, and fiercely combed his hair;
And after he got safely home, they say he took an oath
That he’d never bet a cent again at any game of cards,
and, moreover, for want of decent advisers,
he foreswore whisky and women both;
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

VIII.
This fine Arkansas gentleman went strong for Pierce and King,
And so came on to Washington to get a nice fat office, or
some other equally comfortable thing;
But like him from Jerusalem that went to Jericho,
He fell among thieves again, and could not win a bet
whether he coppered it or not, so his cash was bound to go—
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

IX.
So when his moneys all were gone, he took unto his bed,
And Dr. Reyburn physicked him, and the chamber-maid,
who had a great affection for him, with her arm held up his head;
And all his friends came weeping round, and bidding him adieu,
And two or three dozen preachers, whom he didn’t know at all,
and didn’t care a damn if he didn’t, came praying for him too;
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!

X.
They closed his eyes and laid him out all ready for the tomb,
And merely to console themselves they opened the biggest
kind of a game of faro right there in his own room;
But when he heard the checks, he flung the linen off his face,
and sung out, just precisely as he used to do when he was alive,
“Prindle, don’t turn! hold on! I go twenty on the king, and copper on the ace!”
This fine Arkansas gentleman,
Close to the Choctaw line!