We lock him up in the smokehouse collar,
Wid de key flung in de well.
De whip is lost, de ban'cuff broke,
But de nmssa hah his pay.
He's big mi ole enough for to know better
Dan to went an run awuj.
OLD SHADY.
Oh, yah, yah, darkies, laugh wid me,
"ur do white folks say Ole Hhady's free,
t o don't you s< e dat do jubilee
Xs a-coming, coming—Hail mighty day I
CHORDS.
Den away, away, fur 1 can't wait any longer.
Hooray, hooray, I'm going home!
Oh. mass' got seared and so did his lady,
Dis chile breaks fur Ole Uncle Aby;
“Open dc gates, out here's Ole Shady
A-coming, coming"—Hail mighty day!
Goodby, Mass' Jeff, goodby Mis’r Stephens,
'House dis nigguh fur takiu his b avins,
'Spoct purty soon you'll hear Uncle Abram's
Coming, coming—Hail mighty day!
Goodby, hard work, wid never any pay,
X’zo a-gwine up north where de good folks say
Dat white wheat bread and a dollar a day
Arc coming, coming—Hull mighty day!
Oh, I've got a wife and I've got a baby,
Livin up yonder in Lower Canady,
Won't dey laugh when dey see Ole Shady
A-coming, coming—Hail mighty day!
SONGS OF THE SOUTH.
With the advent of war. poetry oncl song
began in one shape or another to find their
themes throughout the south—the woman
at her hearthstone and the soldier in tho
Held; to represent all uspeAs of popular
feeling—the enthusiasm of victory, tho de
spondency of defeat, tho pride that exulted
In tho hero and the grief that mourned
his loss.
