Here's Your Mule

By C.D. Benson - 1862
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 a fool,
By every one he met in camp
With "Mister, here's your mule!"

    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! a witless tool,
Whilst everyone would sing the song,
Of, "Mister, here's your mule."

    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!"

The soldiers ran in laughing mood,
On mischief were intent;
They lifted muley on their backs,
Around from tent to tent,
Through this hole and that, they pushed
His head and made a rule
To shout with humorous voices all,
"I say! Mister, here's your mule."

    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!"

Alas, one day the mule was missed!
Ah! who could tell his fate?
The farmer like a man bereft,
Searched early and searched late,
And as he passed from camp to camp,
With stricken face, - the fool,
Cried out to everyone he met,
"Oh, Mister, where's my mule?"

    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!"

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