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Nine Blue-coats went a-nutting

Slyly in Tennessee—

Not for chestnuts—better than that—

Hugh, you bumble-bee!

Nutting, nutting—

All through the year there's nutting!

A tree they spied so yellow,

Rustling in motion queer;

In they fired, and down they dropped—

Butternuts, my dear!

Nutting, nutting—

Who'll 'list to go a-nutting?

Ah! why should good fellows foemen be?

And who would dream that foes they were—

Larking and singing so friendly then—

A family likeness in every face.

But Captain Cloud made sour demur:

"Guard! keep your prisoners in the pen,

And let none talk with Mosby's men."