The Old Hickory Cane

Cat. #0081 (MFH #242) - As sung by Mr. J. W. Breazeal, Springfield, Missouri on April 20, 1958

So well, I remember, when I was a boy
We lived on an old fashioned farm
Th chimney was deep, th hearth stones were broad
And th fire tongs how brightly they shone
Th spirit of mischief was there at play
We tried to keep still, bit in vain
The signal for quite I ne'r shall forget
The thump of th old hickory cane

Th old hickory cane, th old hickory cane
The cane that was knotty and worn
My Fathers companion, th staff of his life
Its absence he ne'r never could have borne

How pleasant while living out on the old farm
How welcome the old dinner horn
Th long winter evenings brought cider and fruit
And th popping of chessnuts and corn
We thought it a treat, with his hand on his cane
Our Father a story would tell
Each eye would be bent on his good natured face
O, me, I remember it well

His highback old armchair looks silent and worn
His Bible is lying there still
Time laid th deep mold of old age on his hand
And bent his stiff form at its will
A niche in the wall, still holds that old cane
Th hand that caressed it is cold
They laid him to rest, but as ever we'll keep
Th cane that is knotty and old