Little Brown Jug
E. NASON & CO. SONG PUBLISHERS, 120 Fulton Street, New York.
Little Brown Jug.
My wife and I live all alone
In a little brown hut we call our own;
She loves gin and I love rum—
Tell you what it is, don’t we have fun!
If I had a cow that gave such milk,
I’d dress her in the finest silk,
Feed her on the choicest hay,
And milk her twenty times a day.
’Tis you that makes my friends my foes,
’Tis you who makes we wear old clothes;
But, seeing you are near my nose:
“Tip her up and down she goes!”
When I go toiling on my farm,
Take little brown jug under my arm,
Set it under some shady tree—
Little brown jug, don’t I love thee!
If all the folks in Adam’s race
Were put together in one place,
Then I’d prepare to drop a tear,
Before I’d part with you, my dear!