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Ben Hollins.


Down in de alley, behind de grocery sto',
Dar liv a culled gentnun, a long time ago;
His marster's name was Hollins, and his'n it was Ben;
He was de strongest and de best ob darkey men.

Chorus. Oh, Uncle Ben! poor ole Uncle Ben!
De strongest, de best ob nigger men.
Dis world will nuvver see you like again.

His arms dey was strong as de smell ob de polecat,
But his heart was stronger, much strongerer dan dat;
'Twas big as de biggesh raccoon ob de slashes,
And hot as de ash-cake in de hick'ry ashes.

Chorus. Oh, Uncle Ben, &c.

His sperrits was good as sperrits in a tickler;
His 'pinion ob religion wasn't too partic'ler;
He b'liev'd he's gwine to heaven, kaze he did'nt do no harm,
And kaze de debbil's house it was too debblish warm.

Chorus. Oh, Uncle Ben, &c.

His teef dey was yaller, and big as butter-beans,
And dey was dead in lub wid bacon and wid greens;
His voice did dissemble de voice ob a he-mule,
Dat laughs at de children comin' out o' free school.

Chorus. Oh, Uncle Ben, &c.

His foot was big as de half ob a half acre;
He wo a broad-brim hat, same as any Quaker;
His head was berry small; his breast was berry broad;
It sounded like a saw-mill, eb'ry bref he draw'd.

Chorus. Oh, Uncle Ben, &c.

One mornin' early de dropsy cum and kotch him,
And de doctors tried deir best for to scotch him;
But he slid right straight down de hill ob human life,
And left in dat alley nobody but he wife.