(AU.)

SONG FOR "THE JACQUERIE”

II

THE hound was cuffed, the hound was
kicked,

O' the ears was cropped, o' the tail was
nicked,

Oo-hoo-o, howled the hound.
The hound into his kennel crept;
He rarely wept, he never slept.
His mouth he always open kept
Licking his bitter wound,
The hound,

U-lu-lo, howled the hound.

(AU.)

A star upon his kennel shone

10

That showed the hound a meat-bare bone.

(AU.)

(AU.)

(AU.)

O hungry was the hound!

The hound had but a churlish wit.

He seized the bone, he crunched, he bit.

15

"An thou wert Master, I had slit

Thy throat with a huge wound,"
Quo' hound.

O, angry was the hound.

The star in castle-window shone,
The Master lay abed, alone.

Oh ho, why not? quo' hound.

He leapt, he seized the throat, he tore
The Master, head from neck, to floor,

25

(AU.)

And rolled the head i' the kennel door,
And fled and salved his wound,

Good hound!

U-lu-lo, howled the hound.

MACON, GA., 1868.

THAR'S MORE IN THE MAN THAN THAR IS IN THE LAND

I KNOWED a man, which he lived in Jones, Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones, And he lived pretty much by gittin' of loans, And his mules was nuthin' but skin and bones, 5 And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones, And he had 'bout a thousand acres o' land.

This man-which his name it was also JonesHe swore that he'd leave them old red hills and stones

Fur he couldn't make nuthin' but yallerish cotton, 10 And little o' that, and his fences was rotten, And what little corn he had, hit was boughten And dinged ef a livin' was in the land.

And the longer he swore the madder he got,
And he riz and he walked to the stable lot,

15 And he hollered to Tom to come thar and hitch
Fur to emigrate somewhar whar land was rich,
And to quit raisin' cock-burrs, thistles and sich,
And a wastin' ther time on the cussed land.

So him and Tom they hitched up the mules,
Pertestin' that folks was mighty big fools
That 'ud stay in Georgy ther lifetime out,
Jest scratchin' a livin' when all of 'em mought
Git places in Texas whar cotton would sprout
By the time you could plant it in the land.

And he driv by a house whar a man named Brown 25
Was a livin', not fur from the edge o' town,
And he bantered Brown fur to buy his place,
And said that bein' as money was skace,
And bein' as sheriffs was hard to face,
Two dollars an acre would git the land.

They closed at a dollar and fifty cents,
And Jones he bought him a waggin and tents,
And loaded his corn, and his wimmin, and truck,
And moved to Texas, which it tuck

His entire pile, with the best of luck,
To git thar and git him a little land.

But Brown moved out on the old Jones' farm,
And he rolled up his breeches and bared his arm,
And he picked all the rocks from off'n the groun’,
And he rooted it up and he plowed it down,
Then he sowed his corn and his wheat in the land.

Five years glid by, and Brown one day
(Which he'd got so fat that he wouldn't weigh),
Was a settin' down, sorter lazily,

39

30

336

35

40

To the bulliest dinner you ever see,

When one o' the children jumped on his knee

And says, "Yan's Jones, which you bought his land.”

45

And thar was Jones, standin' out at the fence, And he hadn't no waggin, nor mules, nor tents, 50 Fur he had left Texas afoot and cum

To Georgy to see if he couldn't git sum
Employment, and he was a lookin' as hum-
Ble as ef he had never owned any land.

But Brown he axed him in, and he sot 55 Him down to his vittles smokin' hot,

And when he had filled hisself and the floor
Brown looked at him sharp and riz and swore

That, "whether men's land was rich or poor

Thar was more in the man than thar was in the land.”

MACON, GA., 1869.

THE POWER OF PRAYER; OR, THE FIRST STEAMBOAT UP THE ALABAMA

BY SIDNEY AND CLIFFORD LANIER

You, Dinah! Come and set me whar de ribberroads does meet.

De Lord, He made dese black-jack roots to twis' into a seat.

Umph, dar! De Lord have mussy on dis blin' ole nigger's feet.

It 'pear to me dis mornin' I kin smell de fust o' June.

I 'clar', I b'lieve dat mockin'-bird could play de fiddle soon!

Dem yonder town-bells sounds like dey was ringin' in de moon.

Well, ef dis nigger is been blind for fo'ty year or mo', Dese ears, dey sees the world, like, th'u' de cracks dat's in de do'.

For de Lord has built dis body wid de windows 'hind and 'fo.'

I know my front ones is stopped up, and things is sort o' dim,

But den, th'u' dem, temptation's rain won't leak in on ole Jim !

De back ones show me earth enough, aldo' dey's mons'ous slim.

And as for Hebben,-bless de Lord, and praise His holy name

10

Dat shines in all de co'ners of dis cabin jes' de same
As ef dat cabin hadn't nar' a plank upon de frame! 15

Who call me? Listen down de ribber, Dinah! Don't you hyar

Somebody holl'in' "Hoo, Jim, hoo"? My Sarah died las' y'ar;

Is dat black angel done come back to call ole Jim f'om hyar?

My stars, dat cain't be Sarah, shuh! Jes' listen, Dinah, now!