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Old Bob Ridley.


Music, with Piano Forte Accompaniment, published by J. E. Boswell, Baltimore.

A possum sat in a 'simmon tree,
A looking cunning down at me;
I took a rock, all on the sly,
And hit him zip! right in the eye.
Old Bob Ridley, Oh! Old Bob Ridley, Oh!
How could you fool the possum so?

Oh! boys, come along and shuck that corn;
Oh! boys, come along to the rattle of the horn;
We'll shuck and sing till the coming of the moon,
And then we'll have a holiday.

I took him down to Polly Bell,
Because I know she'll cook him well;
She made a fry, and she made a stew,
An' a roast, an' a broil, and a barbecue!
Old Bob Ridley!
Oh! Oh!
Why didn't you let these darkies know?

Oh! boys, come along, &c.

When 'twas done, I begin to call,
An' here comes in the darkies all;
We throwed the dogs the head and feet,
And had a plenty left for us all to eat.


Old Bob Ridley!
Oh! Oh!
We never heard of the like before.

Oh! boys, come along, &c.

Old massa say he never see
A possum half so fat as he!
We eat, and we danced, and we eat all night,
But we couldn't eat him all before the morning light.
Old Bob Ridley!
Oh! Oh!
Now do you tell these darkies so?

Now, boys, come along, &c.

I got a half a dollar for his skin,
On which next night we all frolick'd again
And that made Polly love me well;
An' a mighty purty gal was Polly Bell!
Old Bob Ridley!
Oh! Oh!
The next time we'll be sure to go.

Oh! boys, come along, &c.

Oh! Polly's lips they look so sweet,
When she has something nice to eat;
That possum's fat, and that possum's hide,
Them was the things made Polly my bride!
Old Bob Ridley!
Oh! Oh!
Polly is the belle of the banjo!