HERE'S YOUR MULE

by C. D. Benson

A Farmer came to camp one day,

With milk and eggs to sell,

Upon a mule who oft would stray,

To where no one could tell.

The Farmer, tired of his tramp,

For hours was made the fool,

By everyone 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 everyone 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! the witless fool,

Whil'st every man would sing the song

Of "Mister, here's your mule."

CHORUS:

The soldiers ran in laughing mood,

On mischief were intent,

The lifted "Muley" on their back,

Around from tent to tent.

Thro' this hole, and that, they push'd

His head, -- And made a rule,

To shout with humorous 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 pass'd from camp to camp

With stricken face -- the fool

Cried out to everyone he met,

Oh! "Mister, where's my Mule."

CHORUS:

The Confederate Soldier

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