YE HUNTERS OF KENTUCKY
(A HUNTER FROM KENTUCKY)
Sung by: Mrs. Burton Arnold
Who grace this famous city,
Just listen if you've time to spare,
While I rehearse a ditty;
And for the opportunity,
Conceive yourselves quite lucky,
For 'tis not often that you see
A hunter from Kentucky.
Chorus: Oh, Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky.
Oh, Kentucky, the hunters of Kentucky.
I suppose you've read it in the print
How Packingham attempted
To make Old Hickory Jackson wince,
But soon his scheme repented;
For he with rifles ready-cocked
Thought such occasion lucky,
And soon around the General flocked
The hunters of Kentucky.
You've heard, I suppose, how New Orleans
Is famed for wealth and beauty.
There's girls of every hue, it seems,
From snowy white to sooty.
So Packingham, he made his brags,
If he in fact was lucky.
He'd have their girls and cotton bags
In spite of old Kentucky.
But Jackson, he was wide awake
And wasn't scared at trifles,
For well he knew what aim we take
With our Kentucky rifles;
So he led us down to Cypress Swamp.
The ground was low and mucky.
There stood John Bull in martial pomp,
And here was Old Kentucky.
A bank was raised to hide our breasts,
Not that we thought of dying,
But then we always liked to rest
Unless the game is flying.
Behind it stood our little force--
None wished it any greater--
For every man was half a horse,
And half an alligator.
They did not let our patience tire
Before they showed their faces.
We did not choose to waste our fire,
So snugly kept our places.
But when so near, we saw them wink,
We thought it time to stop them.
And 'twould have done you good, I think,
To see Kentucky pop them.