(Go back to Song Index)

A farmer came to camp one day,
With milk and eggs to sell,
Upon a mule that oft would stray
To where no one could tell.
The farmer tired of his tramp,
For hours was made a fool,
By ev'ryone he met in camp
With, "Mister, here's your mule."

(Chorus)
Come on, come on, come on, old man,
And don't be made a fool,
By ev'ryone you meet in camp
With, "Mister, here's your mule."

His eggs and chickens all were gone,
Before the break of day;
The mule was heard of all along,
That's what the soldiers say;
And still he hunted all day long,
Alas! a witless tool,
Whilst every man would sing a song
Of, "Mister, here's your mule."
(Chorus)

The soldiers run in laughing mood,
On mischief were intent;
The lifted muley on their back,
Around from tent to tent;
Through this hole and that, they pushed
His head and made a rule,
To shout with hum'rous voices all,
"I say! Mister, here's your mule."
(Chorus)

Alas, one day the mule was missed!
Ah, who could tell his fate?
The farmer, like a man bereft,
Searched early and searched late,
And as he passed from camp to camp,
With stricken face-the fool,
Cried out to ev'ryone he met,
"Oh, Mister, where's my mule?"