The Sporty Coon - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
THE SPORTY COON. Copyright, 1895, by T. B. Harms & Co. Words by Frank Buckley. Music by Andrew Mack. 
I'm a sporty little coon, and I'll tell you pretty soon How I get on to the money that I blow; I've a system that I play, and when things they come my way, You can bet yer boots that I get all the dough; I'm dead on to "three-card monte," I can always call the turn; I know the number on the wheel before the twirl, But there's one game throws me down, it's the talk of all the town, Why a sporty man like me can't catch a girl. 
Chorus. Will some one Introduce me to a nice young miss? I don't want to neither beg nor borrow; There ain't no limit to me, she can have all this; Nothing then but happiness-no sorrow. Then throw your arms around me, love, and give your boy a kiss, And say you'll love me just the same to-morrow; Don't lose me, I'm a bird-only say the word, And we'll go get married early In the morning. 
Now I sometimes play at faro, and I always break the bank; When they see me coming in they lock the door; I'm dead on to all their snaps, I'm a corker shooting "craps"; I've a cinch on "four-eleven-forty-four." If I go to play the races, all the "bookies" drop their odds; I row a boat so fast I make the waters churl; I'm a wonder at base-ball-I catch anything at all; But, upon the level, I can't catch a girl.- Chorus.