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Ranch and Range |
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DOWN AT HALLER'S DANCIN*
They's tunin' up the orchestray down at old
Bill Hatter's, He's the feller that they claim jes' beats all
the callers In the country 'round fer miles—old bow-legged feller; Say, you ought to hear that cuss jes' get up an' beller: Balance all an' do-see-do, Rope her, tie her, let her go, Mill her 'round an' kiss her there, Prom'nade all, you know where.
Choose your partners! H-m-m-m! well, yes,
grab the next one after, 'Twont harm nothin' if you do shake the roof
with lafter; Fer she's joy-time, whoop-hi-ree! Come
around a-prancin', Guess there's nothin' like the time down at Haller's dancin'. She's your true love, you can bet, There's no dead ones in that set! Lope her 'round an' squeeze her there, Prom'nade all, you know where.
Hear them fiddles! Hain't they great! SufT-
rin' Land o' Lawdy! Ragtime, night time, high time, too, come
a-steppin' gawdy. |
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