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Poem	I be'n down in ole Kentucky Fur a week er two, an' say, 'T wuz ez hard ez breakin' oxen Fur to tear myse'f away. Allus argerin' 'bout fren'ship An' yer hospitality— Y' ain't no right to talk about it Tell you be'n down there to see. See jest how they give you welcome To the best that's in the land, Feel the sort o' grip they give you When they take you by the hand. Hear 'em say, "We 're glad to have you, Better stay a week er two;" An' the way they treat you makes you Feel that ev'ry word is true. Feed you tell you hear the buttons Crackin' on yore Sunday vest; Haul you roun' to see the wonders Tell you have to cry for rest. Drink yer health an' pet an' praise you Tell you git to feel ez great Ez the Sheriff o' the county Ez the Gov'ner o' the State. Wife, she sez I must be crazy 'Cause I go on so, an' Nelse He 'lows, "Goodness gracious! daddy, Cain't you talk about nuthin' else?" Well, pleg-gone it, I 'm jes' tickled, Bein' tickled ain't no sin; I be'n down in ole Kentucky, An' I want o' go ag'in.
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