Sung by: W.P. Detherow
Recorded in Batesville, AR, 7/19/52

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There was an old nigger, and they called him Uncle Ned,
And he died long ago, long ago.
He had no wool on the top of his head--
The place where the wool ought to grow.

Chorus: Hang up the fiddle and the bow,
Throw down the shovel and the hoe.
There's no more work for poor Uncle Ned,
He's gone where the good niggers go.

When Uncle Ned died, Marse took it mighty hard;
The tears rolled down like the rain.
You'd think that he was dead and gone,
Never get to see old Ned again.


His fingers are long like the cane in the brake,
He had no eyes for to see.
He had no teeth for to eat corn cake,
He had to let the corn cake be.


Uncle Ned was a-plowing in the field one day,
His banjo hanging on his knee.
Death come along and hit him on the head.
Said, "Ned, come along with me."


Also found in Randolph, Vol. II, #261, "Uncle Ned"; Brown, Vol. III, #420, "Uncle Ned."

All Songs Recorded by John Quincy Wolf, Jr., unless otherwise noted

The John Quincy Wolf Folklore Collection
Lyon College, Batesville, Arkansas
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