'Tis sad to leabe our tater land,
An' gals we dar lobed well,
To wander from each darkey band,
Whar taters don't grow well;
Yet hard as am dis loss to bear,
An' deep all stomach smart,
'Tis worse to be no longer near,
De wirgins ob our heart.
'Tis sad to leabe, &c.

40

Oh if dar's one she darky's eye
Wid us to grin or griebe,'
To soofe de double-breasted sigh
Dat makes us sweat to leabe'
One grin de nigger's heart to cheer,
Dough he de gums could see,
No possum-head was half so dear
As such a grin to me.
'Tis sad to leabe our tater land,
An' gals we dar lobed well,
Like fresh shad in de river's strand,
Whar nets to catch 'em dwell.

O, how sweet to me, when de sun I see,
A blazing so full in de morn.
Like a ban ob fire it shots higher an' higher
When we are going to rake de corn.
'Tis den I feel just like an eel,
Or a hawk when he's gone to roos,
Till de drivers come an' we lumber [illegible]
To start our morning cruize.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, &c.
Now de niggas prepare for to do [illegible]
When de horn begins for to blow,

41

An' de lizzards and de snakes hab to leab de track,
When de darkies begin to hoe.
Den we scamper away and go to work,
An' we all commence dis song—
Now work away, for to-night we play,
An' we'll sound de tamborine.

Jim Jawbone was a color'd man,
Ob de true nigga blood, sa,
In old Virginny he did grow,
Among de 'bacca buds, sa.
His fader cum from Alabama,
His moder cum from Guinea,
Dey suckled little Jawbone wid
De leaf ob ole Virginny.

Chorus.—Success to de tobacco leaf,
An' nigga's Jawbone Grinny,
Sing may dey raise for our relief,
De plant ob ole Virginny.

Dey cradled in tobacco stalks,
Dis blooming infant black, sa;
An' long before he larnt to talk,
He squealed de name of "bacca."

42

Soon as young Jim fus larnt to creep,
Dey missed an' thought him killed, sa,
But dey found him in de field asleep,
Upon a bacca hill, sa,
Success to de tobacco leaf, &c.

As Jim growed up, de more he show
His vegetable breed, sa;
His 'plexion from the de sable crow,
Turned like de yallar weed, sa;
His limbs growed so jist like de plant,
When cutting time come round, sa,
He took 'em for tobacco stalks,
An' cumself clar down, sa.
Success to de tobacco leaf, &c.

So poor Jim Jawbone had to die,
All by dis sad slipstake, sa,
He hung him up wid stalks to dry,
Upon de 'bacca brake, sa;
Dis pipe I cut out ob de bone,
Dat growed out ob his shin, sa,
An' de more I smoke de 'bacca out,
De more keeps coming in, sa,
Success to de tobacco leaf, &c.

Sheep's meat is too good for colored people,
Sheep's meat is too good for niggers;

43

When I went into the house, no one there excep'the mouse,
Sitten by de fire place, dare was a rat eatin grease.
BANJO SYMPHONY.—Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe, now I'll be your friend John,
A long way to go, and no money for to spend.

Black my boots in de kitchen,
Sevety-five cents to the quarter,
Black em wid ole Day & Martin, make em shine and dat for sartin,
Massa sue me for de treason, 'kase he couldn't dats the reason.
BANJO SYMPHONY.—Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe, now I'll be your friend John,
A long way to go, and aint got a red cent.

De ole gray cat loved de honey,
De ole gray cat loved de honey,
He loved de honey mighty well, he eat so much he 'gan to swell,
And in de honey pot he fell, he couldn't get out its strange to tell.
BANJO SYMPHONY.—Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe,
Walk in Joe, now I'll be your friend John,
A long way to go, and ain't got a Picayune.

I am a nigger from de Sout,
I cum from dar in de time ob de drout:
Times had got so hard in dat place,
De niggers dare not show dar face.

Chorus.—Hi, ho, de New York gals,
Hi, ho, &c.
Dey am so high, dey is so low,
Dey can't get money to go to de show.

I went one night for to play for a ball,
De niggers were dar white folks an' all;
Playing seben-up wid ole black Joe
To raise some money to go to de show.

Ole Joe swar I stock de cards,
He dared me out to square de yards;
Says I ole Joe, you can't fool me,
I plays seben-up by de rule ob tree.

I set down, didn't know what to do,
He cruck his heels, den smack his shoe,
Jumped one de carpet, cut de long J bow,
Den I gib him a quarter to go to de show.

De ole hoss stood up to de rack,
I buckled de saddle to his back,
I fotch a lick, git up gee ho,
Carry me to town to see de show.

45

I got to de door all cobered wid dust,
Couldn't get in till I paid dem fust;
A quarter ob a dollar I'd hab you to know—
I hear de bones, fiddle, tamborine an' ole banjo.

De white falks laugh, de niggers grin,
Some holler fotch dem back agin—
De white ladies said dat dey couldn't let us go,
Wid de bones, fiddle, tamborine an' ole banjo.

Up spoke a man wid a spangle jacket,
Niggers an' white folks stop dat racket;
De people all stood up in a row,
Three cheers for de niggers wid de ole banjo.

De white folks arter us all day long,
To git de verses of my song;
I gib dem away a long time ago,
For de bones, fiddle, tamborine an' ole banjo.

If you should go, in summer time,
To South Carolinar's sultry clime,
An' in de shade you chance to lie,
You'll soon find out de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

Dar's many kind ob curious tings,
From different sort ob inseck springs;
Some hatch in June an' some July,
But Augus fotches de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

46

When I was young I used to wait
On massa table and hand de plate
I'd pass de bottle when he dry,
Den brush away de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

Den arter dinner massa sleeps,
He bid dis nigga vigils keeps;
An' when he gwine to shut his eye,
He tell me watch de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

When he ride in de arternoon,
I foller wid a hickory brom;
De pony being berry shy,
When bitten by de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

One day he rode aroun de farm,
De flies so numerous did swarm,
One chance to bite 'im on de thigh,
De debil take de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

De pony run he jump an'`pitch,
An' tumbl'd massa in de ditch;
He died and de jury wondered why—
De verdic was de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

Dey laid him under a 'simmon tree,
His epitaph am dere to see

47

'Beneath this stone I'm forced to lie,
All by de means ob de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

Ole massa's gone, now let 'im rest,
Dey say all tings am for de best;
I neber shall forget till de day I die,
Ole massa an' dat blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

De hornet gets in your eyes and nose,
De skeeter bite you troo your clothes;
De yalla nipper sweeten high,
But wusser yet de blue tail fly.
An' scratch 'um wid a briar too.

I am a nigger from the South,
I come from dar time ob de drouth;
I trabble fast an' I trabble slow;
An' I fotch along de ole banjo.
My old missus sent me out a singin',
'Twas the first ob my beginnin'.

I went one night to play for a ball,
De niggs wuz dar, white folks an' all;
Some dance so high, some dance so low
Dey play'd de debil wid de ole banjo
My old missus, &c.

48

De nigga all sez, he can't fool me,
He plays dat ting by de rule ob tree;
De white folks sez, go 'long wid de show,
You can't stay here wid your ole banjo.
My old missus, &c.

De ole hoss stood up to de rack,
I buckle de banjo on his back;
I fotch 'im a lick, git up! gee whoa!
An' away I went wid de old banjo.
My old missus, &c.

We got to de show all covered wid dust,
Couldn't get in till I paid dem fust;
Two shillin' for myself, I'd hab all to know
An' anudder extra shillin' for de ole banjo.
My ole missus, &c.

When I got in I took my seat,
De showman ax't me for to treat;
Sez I 'old hoss,' I can't do so,
But I can play on de old banjo.
My ole missus, &c.

Two niggers danced upon a board,
De fiddler played up 'sugar in de gourd;'
Dey dance berry hard, but twas no go,
'Twas no whar side o' de ole banjo,
My ole missus, &c.

De white folks laff, de niggas did grin
Some hollor'd 'fotch 'um back agin!'

49

Some did hiss, an some ob 'um crow,
Kase dey wanted Lull wid de ole banjo.
My ole missus, &c.

Up steps a man wid a spangled jacket
'Niggas and white folks stop dis racket;
De people all stood up in a row,
An' gib tree cheers for de ole banjo.
My ole missus, &c.

AS SUNG WITH DOUBLE ENCORES, BY SENIOR JOE MURPHY, FROM DE OPERA OF DE POST-HEEL-ON OB LONG-JAW-BONE.

Oh swiftly goes the oyster boat,
Jist walkin from de shore;
Unto de darkies' song she'll float,
To hunt de shelly store.
We whistle up a jolly breeze,
An hoist de square-toed sail,
Den down de riber scud wid ease,
An' cheat ole massa gale.
Oh, swiftly goes the oyster boat, &c.

We cast our tongs in oyster bay
An' make 'em far an' wide,
Den haul up while our boat so gay,
Plays see-saw on de tide.
Den wid her bosom jam up full
Ob oyster fat an' fine
Up to de town we swiftly pull,
An' sing while our grinners shine.
Oh, swiftly goes the oyster boat, &c.

De sailor in his ship may sing,
A' tink he's free from harm,

51

Our boat can cut de sea gull wing,
An' walk right through the storm.
Den safely to de port she splash,
Filled with her shelly store,
While folks come to shell out dar cash,
In crowds along de shore.
Oh, swiftly goes the oyster boat, &c.

Come gemmen all, both short and tall,
I hope dat you excuse me,
De reason why me come here now,
Am only to amuse you.
Some lubs black and some lubs wite,
But in spite ob nature's scorning,
Ob all de gals I eber did lub,
Gib me a yallar gal in a morning.
A pretty yallar gal a nice yallar gal,
Dere faces here always adorning,
Ob all de galls I eber did saw,
Gib me a yallar gal in a morning.

Der am a gal in New Orleans
Dat lubs me to extraction
Bery pity I doesnt like dat gal,
It is because ob her complection
She ab often tried to win my heart,
But now I'll gib her warning,
Dat from me she'd better start,
For I lub a yallar gal in a morning.

52

One night I went to a fancy ball
I am so fond ob dancing,
And soon as I got in de hall,
Round me de gals were prancing;
We dance all night till Zoureter give,
And when de day were dawning,
De ole banjo struck up, dere de go,
Sambo and him gal in a morning.

When me left dis place you soon shee,
Dat we did both get married,
And in a short time arter dat,
I wish dat I was buried.
No rest could I git even night or day,
For little niggars yawning;
So gemman all when you go to de ball,
Take care ob de gals in a morning.

Oh! I'm de black Professor Chalk,
Dat's just arrived from great New York,
To you Poor Whites I'm going to talk
To 'lighten you if I can;
I've proved de learned Doctors fools
And pushed Professors from der stools,
In fact, I've puzzled all de schools
Since de day I first began.

53

I'll beat be chalks, I'll calculate
Your knowledge, slick as grease.
Old Solomon, was he alive,
Would have to hold his peace.
Dere's not a thing was ever larned
But over in my brain I've tarned,
And if I dont know it all, I'm darned,
De Larned Nigger Man.

Just look, Innography de's first,
Dat's what dey rise to lay de dust;
De Study of Globes, is living on trust
And getting all you can.
Astronomy will tell you how
To play upon de old banjo,
And Music is de way to go
Upon de safest plan.
Arithmetic's de way to paint,
And Drawing to study de moon;
Chronology is what dey larns
To make de silver spoon;
And Navigation's de way to make
De mint-julep, and de old hoe cake,
Aint I de regular wide awake
Old Larned Nigger Man?

Dere's Phisnomy and Gology,
De science ob Tantology,
And Poetry's Astrology,
Deny it if you can,
Philos'phy's de way to find

54

De knowledge ob de waves an' wind;
Philan'phy is when you'b divined
A new railway to plan.
Electricity, I calculate
Beats all creation hollow;
Repudiation is de way
To earn the honest dollar.
Phrenology is how to fly,
And Hydraulics is berry dry,
And Steam's de way to sing. Aint I
De Larned Nigger?

Next on Ancient History I'll touch,
Though you wouldn't think I know'd so much,
But yet I'b got it in my clutch
Since first de world began.
Now old Shakemspeare was in de ark,
And Vellin'ton and Mungo Park,
And Prince Albert a gen'alman dark
To save himself he ran.
Den Animal and Bonaparte
Dey crossed de Alps togedder,
And got friz up, because it was
Such berry dam cold wedder.
Lord Byron was a general, sent
To fight, and wid Alexander went;
And Julius Caesar was a gent,
And a fiery Irishman.

Dere's Moses hunted de wild racoon,
And Noah dat vent up in a balon;
And Adam who played de lively tune

55

Upon de old banjo.
Sir Robert Peel he was de Pope,
And Charles de First invented soap;
Cromwell, de man dat made de rope,
To catch de buffalo
And George de Third he was a black,
Dat lived in New Orleans;
And Washington kept a donkey-cart,
And went about wid greens.
Saint Peter was de Indian chief;
Queen Anne found out de bacca leaf;
Tuffy de Welchman, dat stole de beef,
Was cousin to old Joe.

From Sweden's northern city
The sound of song was hard
The charm of gushing melody
The notes of a singing bird;
'Twas not low music on the gale,
Nor bells upon the wind;
It was the voice of a "nightingale,"
Whose name is Jenny Lind.
Oh charming Jenny Lind,
Sweet warbling Jenny Lind,
Welcome to Old England's shores,
And honor you shall find.

56

Now down into the Haymarket,
This Nightingale has flew;
Oh! what will Persiani then
And Tamburini do?
Now Jenny's at the Opera,
The Garden will be thinned,
For the Queen and Albert's sure to go
To hear sweet Jenny Lind,
Oh! charming Jenny Lind,
Magic Jenny Lind, &c.

Oh! don't you know the Poet Man
And don't you know his name,
Oh! don't you know the Hot Cross Bun,
That lives in Drury Lane?
He tried to catch this Nightingale
(Lord how de nigger grinned,)
By putting salt upon her tail,
But away flew Jenny Lind,
Charming Jenny Lind, &c.

Oh! won't I pack up de old banjo,
And screw de steam on tight,
And now she has to England come,
I'll grab her some fine night,
And to old Carolina go;
I'm darned if I ain't skinned,
To show de free-born 'Mericans,
De lubly Jenny Lind.
So come along Jenny Lind,
My charming Jenny Lind,

57

Dis child shall play on pe ole banjo,
While you sing, Jenny Lind.

An' if she wants a husband smart,
Why I does want a wife;
I'll gib her my Ethiopian heart,
An lub her all my life.
There's many a prince and gen'alman
Dat's whiter dan me skinned,
Won't bear so true a heart as mine,
For lovely Jenny Lind.

Charming Jenny Lind, &c.

When I was down in Kentucky,
I saw a Venus dere,
But she to Madam Jenny Lind
Was nothin' to compare;
Oh! lub, you've been de nigger's ruin,
Since Modern Eve first sinned,
An you have been my own undoin'
Wicked Jenny Lind.

Oh! farewell, Jenny Lind,
Wicked Jenny Lind,
I'll hang myself for your dear sake,
An dangle in de wind.

O, me come agin to please, and not for to vex,
But, me first appeal to de Lilly-fair sex!
Old England for eber is de home ob de free,
So ladies be impartial, and make free wid me,

CHORUS. Air.—Some one in de house wid Dinah

Dere's no sable lass looks fina, fina,
No white or yalla gal, you know
Can dance and sing like Dinah, Dinah,
De Venus ob Ohio.

All sorts ob niggas, make 'pearance, and sing,
Dey stop little time and den take wing—
An' now de Black Venus, from Ohio,
Mean to turn'm all roun', wid all dey know.
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

From de Post Horn Gallop to de Poker true
Me teach all de dances, old and new,
Me dance Crocovienne wid powerful musel,
Me cut de best figga, wid lots ob bussel.
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

At me concert and ball, down de Ohio,
Dere was old Jim Crow and Jim along Joe,
De cleber Black Bell, dat fren ob mine,
And young Dandy Jim from Caroline.
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

59

Ginger Blue, Bone Squash, and Jumbo Jum,
Brought de best ob fruit, and de best ob rum!
Dere was first-rate niggas, ob ebery land,
Ole Rosin de Beau, and de Partissiment Band
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

Dere was Coal Black Rose, and Miss Sarra Sloe,
Take time Lucy Long, says sly Old Joe,
All de Ohio boatmen, and dey're pals,
Had de old Gatlopade, wid de Buffalo Gals.
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

Sandy Boy and Paul Pry made up de Black Reel,
Wid de sweet Black Pink and Lucy Neal,
De Massa ob de Ceremony, quite au-fait,
Set all de bones and banjos in full play,
Dere's no sable lass,

Dey all sung and danced till late next day,
And den dey broke up, and went away,
Dey had singing and dancing right up to chin,
Dey said dey were pleased—and dey would come agin.
Dere's no sable lass, &c.

Massa's such a stingy man,
And every body knows him;
He never pays his tailor's bills,
Because he always owes 'em.

60

Massa such a careful man,
There's no one half so knowing,
He wears his boots all down at heel,
To save the toes from going.
CHORUS.—Come day, go day,
I wish in my heart 'twas Monday;
I drink good whiskey all de week,
And butter-milk on Sunday.

Massa's such a stingy chap,
Once going by the rail off,
To make himself a shaving brush,
He cut de Tom-cat's tail off;
He only washes once a week
To save his soap, the miser;
But as he's got a dam black face,
Why no one's none de wiser.
Come day, go day.

Massa buys all de spec—
Potatoes in de nation,
Stews 'em into Buckland starch,
And that's my daily ration.
Massa gib me such a dose
One day, it was a warmer,
I found myself so debblish stiff,
I couldn't turn de corner.
Come day, go day.

Massa says that when de Corn
Law's dead, and he'll soon heat it,
A quarteen loaf will grow so big,

61

'Twill take a week to eat it.
But massa's such a lazy man,
To cut the matter short now,
I'll go down in de wine cellars,
And open all de ports now.
Come day, go day.

Massa's such a free trade man,
Ebery day he worry
Me to leave off eating meat,
And live on Norfolk curry;
I tried a pailful 'tother day,
To save the grub expenses,
But was obliged to eat a leg o' pork,
To bring me to my senses.
Come day, go day.

De poor ole nigga turn'd
To take him last farewell,
Ob good young manumission-frens,
Him home—and dinner bell,
Decrepit—past all work,
Aim tank'd de oberseer,
Den, from him sunken-sable cheek,
Him wiped away de tear
Decrepit, &c.

62

Him den kneel'd on de grave,
Ob him poor wife and chile,
Den—from him place of birth,
Dey forced him, wid a smile,
Him said, dis poor old heart dey'll brake,
Dere's ONE me still REVERE!
To rest, he lean'd upon him hoe,
And wiped away de tear!
Him said, &c.

Me tink me see de spot,
In life me saw him last,
Unconscious ob him 'proaching fate,
In years! him went outcast,
Go search him 'mong de WILDS—
Him poor old bones will 'pear,
Him once more rested on him spade,
And wiped away de tear.
Go search, &c.

Opposum up a gum tree
His tail has body follow
Racoon quickly him see,
Looking out ob hollow.
Pull him down de long tail,
Opposum squall—Opposum squall,
Racoon stick him long tail
Him louder squeak—him louder squeak.
Opposum up, &c.

63

Opposum look him shy now,
Racoon grin—radoon grin,
Opposum wink his eye now,
Move him chin—move him chin.
Opposum down him tumble,
From de tree—from de tree,
And make him gin to grumble,
Racoon, he, he, he! racoon, he, he, he!
Opposum up, &c.

Black boy lub Till Jenkins,
Tink he'll wed—tink he'll wed;
His massa chide him tinking,
Beat him head—beat him head.
Black boy him lub rum, too,
Make him groggy—make him groggy,
But massa make him cum, too,
When him floggy—when him floggy.
Opposum up, &c.

Good morning, comrade, sneaket, come
Before we cry the morn,
Let's hop into the box, my boys,
And take a social horn.

For there'll be a stormy morning,
And the wind begins to blow,
And let us have a blow out first,
A jolly whiskey blow,
There'll be a stormy morning, &c.

I'se temperance, but I'll taste de schnapps
For fear my troat get sore,
I'm not de only one dat takes
A drop behind de door.
For there'll be a stormy morning, &c.

65

I'se sawed two dollars by de cat's gut,
Now to bed I'll go.
For I has got some wood to saw,
By time de chickens crow.
Oh dere'll be a stormy morning,
De wind begins to blow,
Dere'll be a stormy morning,
De wind begins to blow.

Miss Ligdumvitae's sleepin' fast,
And snoren double bass,
If I kotch a darkey here to night
I'll saw him cross de face.
For there'll be a stormy morning, &c.

De rail-roads off out Market street
Behind de six horse team,
Come down to Johny Cox's boys,
And dere get on our steam.
For there'll be a stormy morning,
And de wind begins to blow,
Then let us hab a blow out first,
A jolly whiskey blow.

We're jolly rail-road porters,
And we push for jobs with spunk,
Bekase we fill our vittal chests
By gettin' people's trunks.
For there'll be a stormy morning, &c.

Dar my sweet Lignumvitae lives,
We'll sar'nade her as we passes,

66

Oh, she's a colored angel, boys,
Dat's dipped in black molasses.
And dere'l be a stormy morning,
De wind begins to blow,
So let's gib her a blow out first,
A stormin' music blow.
For there'll be a stormy morning.

In a little log house in ole Wurginny
Some niggas lib dat cum from Guinny,
Dere massa flog 'em berry little—
But gib 'em plenty work and wittle
Ole massa Jim real cleber body,
Ebery day he gib dem toddy,
And wen de sun fall in de riber,
Dey stop de work—an rest de liber.
Chah! chah! dat de way,
De niggas spend de nite an day.

At nite dey gadder round de fire,
To take ob tings wot hab perspire—
De ahses on der tater toss'em,
Parch de corn, and roast de possum,
An ater dat de niggas splutter,
An hop an dance de chicken flutter;
Dey happy den an hab no bodder,
Dey snug as rat in a stack a fodder.
Chah! cha! &c.

67

'Twas on de nineteenth ob October,
When de Juba dance was ober,
Dey heard a great noise dat sound like tunder,
Which made de niggas stare an wonder!
Now, Caesar says he lay a dolla,
Dr debil in the corn, for he heard him holler.
But Cuffee say now come see,
I bliebe it's notin but a possum up a gum tree.
Chah! chah! &c.

Den one nigga run an open de winda
De moon rush in like fire on tinda
De nois sound plainer, de niggas got friten,
Dey tink 'twas a mixture of tunder an litenen,
Some great brack mob cum cross de medder,
Dey kind a roll themselves togedder,
But soon dey journ dis exhalation
Was notin more dan de niggas from anoder plantation.
Chah! chah! &c.

Dese noisy blacks surround the dwellin,
While de news one nigga got a tellin
De rest ob 'em grin to hear ole Quashy,
Menshun de name ob General Washy.
He says dat day in York Holler,
Massa George catch ole Cornwalle;
An seben thousand corn off shell him
Leff him notin more dan a cob for to tell him.
Chah! chah! &c.

He say den arter all dis fusion,
Dat was de end ob de rebolushun;

68

Dey gwanin for to keep him as dey ort to,
And dat dere massas specially say den
De niggas mout hab rum all day to be quaffin,
All de niggas den buss right out—a laffin.
Chah! chah! &c.

All de wa from ole Karlina,
For to see my old ant Dinah,
Says I, ole lady, how's de Goose,
Jay bird jump on de Martin's rooze.

CHORUS Den cum along John, oh, cum along John,
Den cum all along John, de piper's son,
Aint you mity glad your works most done.

Behine de hen hous on my knee,
Tinks I hear de chicken sneeze,
Turkey plaughin hard on de punkin vine,
Goose chaw backer and duck drink wine.
Den cum along, &c.

Milk in de dary nine days old,
Rat an' skipper gitin mity bole,
Long tail rat in a pail ob souse,
Jes cum down from de wite fokes house.
Den cum along, &c.

A Wurginny nigger raised a hog,
Mak his kanue out ob de log,

69

He put kanue into de water,
Go your deff, I see your darter.
Den cum along, &c.

I hadn't seen her haf a day,
Tell my missus I did say,
Shy at first, but soon got larkin,
Wurginny galls am deff at sparkin.
Den cum along, &c.

Massa sent me out a singin',
Dat war de fust of my beginnin',
Shake de double [illegible]immen quiber,
Bust de banjo all to shibber.
Den cum along, &c.

Way down souf on de beever kreek,
De nigga grows 'bout ten feet,
Dey go to bed wid al dar clothes on,
Dere legs hang out for chicken to roost on.
Den cum along, &c.

Nigga get up about haf ded,
Wid a hundred weight chicken on him leg,
An dey start off for de barn,
Ole cock crows, de young wuns larn.
Den cum along, &c.

De niggas from the South, ha, ha,
They have such a big mouth, ha, ha,

70

That da can't sing at all, ha, ha,
They can't sing at all.
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, niggers from the south,
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, day cannot shut dar mouth.

Wid de fiddle an de ole tambo, ha, ha,
Wid old ole bones an de ole banjo, ha,
Dar's music in dem all, ha, ha,
Dar's music in dem all.
Ha, ha, ha, &c.

Wid a segar and a whiskey punch, ha,
An a thick lip nigger wench, ha, ha,
We'd pass away the time, ha, ha,
We'd pass de time away.
Ha, ha, ha, &c.

One evening at a ball, ha, ha,
A thick lipped wench so rall, ha, ha,
She fell in lub wid me, ha, ha,
She fell in lub wid me.
Ha, ha, ha, &c.

I danc'd wid her all night, ha, ha,
She did my finger bite, ha, ha,
I hit her wid all my might, ha, ha,
An spoil de wench's sight.
Ha, ha, ha, &c.

So I bid you all good night, ha, ha,
You know it isn't right, ha, ha,
Dat I should laugh at you, ha, ha,
Because dat you are white.
Ha, ha, ha, &c.

A grin for de oak, de ole black oak,
Whose trunk I'se sawed so long,
Dere's a laugh all round, for his skin so brown,
An' his forty legs so strong,
He shakes all around,
When he's choped down,
An' de coons cut dirt all about,
He gives fiah an' light,
Ob along cold night,
When de old Nor Easters shout.

Chorus.—Den grin for de oak,
De ole black oak,
Whose trunk we've sawed so long
An' still flourish we
By de ole oak tree,
While our saws am sharp an' strong.

He saw'd de happy mirth, from de ole stone hearth
Whar a fine black log he lay,
When de kitchen around, yel'd wid de sound
Ob de niggas young an' gay:
An' many a night,
By his coals so bright,
Dey sparkled till de mornin' shined
Now dey're ashes an' smoke,

72

Like de ole black oak,
But dey both leabe sprouts behind.
Den grin to the oak, &c.

In de darkey's life you may read,
De life dat niggers like to lead—
Through the wild field we rove,
Be it moonshine or clear,
For de coon hunt we love,
An' de beasts we don't fear;
Sometimes in de holler, or in de wood,
All around we creep an' stare
An' if he's not home, wait till he cum;
We'll find him out somewhar.

'Tis the white hunter's plan,
To track out all game,
Den ketch all he can,
An' we do de same;
We'll foller up and foller down,
An' each nig creep an' stare,
An' if he's not home, wait till he cum,
We'll find him out somewhar.

PARODY TO THE POPULAR AIR OF "COME WITH THE GIPSEY BRIDE," IN THE OPERA OF THE BOHEMIAN GIRL.

Come with de darkey band,
Sing de air,
To de fair,
Whar de lodious song,
Will charm de throng,
An' scare away de throng,
No tunestrument around,
Can equal dar banjo's sound,
When to its cords we gaily sing,
We make de hearts jaw-bone ring,
Wealth's gold dollars can't sound so fine,
As when our lips an' strings combine,
Sing de air,
To de fair,
Dar sweet aplause to share.
Come with the darkey band, &c.

Music's de first ting clasp,
An' hold you in his grasp,
Den lub is sure to be at hand,
An' all comes through de darky band;
Den wid love and music blest,
You needn't care for all de rest.
Sing de air,

74

To de fair,
Dar sweet applause to share.
Come with de darkey band, &c.

Oh de shad time ob year is comin, comin,
Fish gals grin so smart an gay,
De nigga's heels are drummin, drummin,
And shad dey cry all day.
Fish market now looks brighter,
Each nigga's eye looks whiter,
An Dinah when I meet ha,
Her lip it looks more sweet, ah,
Oh, de shad time ob year, &c.

Oh de gentle breeze am smellin, smellin,
Ob shad from out de cookin stove.
Hucksters around am sellin, sellin,
Dar shad from barrow and tub.
Shad make de jaw mid raptures meet,
Shad make de maw mid hunga trill,
Each darkey runs de boats to meet,
Wid lubly shad dar tubs to fill.
Oh, de shad time ob year, &c.

In Carolina whar I was born,
I husk de wood an chop de corn,
A roastin ear to de house I bring,
But de drivers kotch me and dey sing,
Ring de hoop and blow de horn,
Ring de hoop and blow de horn,
Ring de hoop and blow de horn,
I catch dat nigga stealin corn.

Dey take me out on tater hill,
Dey make me dance against my will,
Dey make me dance on sharp toed stones,
While ebery nigga laughs and groans
Ring de hoop, &c.

But down de bank I spied a ship,
I slide down on my under hip,
I jump abroad I cross de brink,
Oh, it made dis niggar's gizzard wink.
Ring de hoop, &c.

In Carolina de niggas grow,
If white man only plant his toe,
Dey water de ground wid bacca smoke,
And up de darkey's head will poke.
Ring de hoop, &c.

A hop toad preach to de fish ob de pool,
His pulpit was a big toad stool,

76

His sarmon de frogs from de clam
And dey sung a croakin meter psalm.
Ring de hoop, &c.

A water snake set to one day,
Along wid a nine-eyed lamparay,
Dey bit till all dar flesh war gone,
Den picked dar teeth wid dar own jaw bone.
Ring de hoop, &c.

A bear was challenged to fight a polecat,
Bekase he said his breath was bad,
And when dey come to take dar station,
De bear soon away wid de fogoation.
Ring de hoop, &c.

To Boston port I soon called down,
De Dickens was all about de town,
I axed a man what de Dickens was,
He said 'twas Pickwick Dickens Boz.
Ring de hoop, &c.

Massa Boz he comed up where I am,
And axed my name, I told him Sam,
Says he, friend Sam you look right well sar,
Says I your Sam look great deal Weller.
Ring de hoop, &c.

Dey feed dis Massa Boz so high,
Dat dis nigga hungry fly,
In Boston I could get no pickins,
For all de wittals went to de Dickens.
Ring de bell and sound de gong,
Massa Boz am feeding strong.

77

From Philadelphy I den did stray,
I stopt at Camden on my way,
Like dying horse de folks all sigh did,
Bekase dar bank had suicided.
Ring de bell and blow de horn,
De Bankers dey got all de corn.

Pennsylvania bankers hair turn gray,
Kase a Porter wheel folks cash away,
He kicked dar shins and shut de doors,
And told dem to put dar platers on de sores.
And told dem to pay up dar scores,
Ring de Cash, &c.

He. Oh, Miss Fanny let me in,
For de way I lub you is a sin;
Oh, lubly Fanny, let me in,
To toast my feet and warm my shin.

She. Oh, no I cannot let you in.

Both. To toast [my/your] feet and warm [my/your] shin.

She. Sam Sluffheel when last we parted,
You to me did prove false hearted.
Whitewash Sal you went to see,
And she aint one bit better dan me.
Oh, no I cannot let, &c.

He. Oh, Miss Fanny, how I prizes,
Lubly teeth and lubly eyeses,
Your handsome Fanny Elssler feet—
Growling music also sweet.
Oh, lubly Fanny, &c.

She. My lub for you is so berry great,
Dat it is a sin to make me wait.
Sam Sluffheel I aint got no fine m[illegible]
And taint no use to slamanade.
Oh, lubly, &c.

79

He. Oh, when I set up oyster cellar,
You shall wait upon de feller,
Sell hot corn and ginger pop,
You be de lady ob de shop.
Oh, lubly, &c.

She. Oh, Sam, If dat's de trufe you tell me,
I shall wait upon de feller,
Sell hot corn and ginger pop,
I'll be lady ob de shop.
Oh, Sam Sluffheel you may come in.

He. Oh, Miss Fanny, I'se a coming in,
For de way I lub you is a sin.

SPOKEN. She. Now Mr. Sam Sluffheel, as you is in, I wants to expostulate wid you, I wants to know what nigger wench dat was, you was goin ober to Hobuckem wid.

She. Oh, noting, only I taught if she opened her mouth once, they would hab to stop the paddle, or she would hab swallowed up all de machinery, dat's all!

He. Yes, an' I wants to know what nigger dat was you was perambulating up Broadway wid de oder night?

He. Well, Mr. Jerombus, and Mr. Juberbus, is much de same, especially Mr. Juberbus; now look here, Miss Fanny, suypose you show us some ob dem Highland Fling touches you danced for Fanny Elssler de oder night.

She. Well I spose I must if it is only to oblige you, you are so insinuatory. [Dances the Cachuca.]

Oh, de arth am got de holler horn,
An people holer night an morn,
Bekase de ram's horn prophet come
To burn 'em all to kingdom come.
Oh, what hard times,
How people will perspire,
When Miller roasts up all de arth,
And frozes all de fire,

[Repeat.] De arth am got the holler horn, &c.

Toder day I heard a spring blue bird,
He sung of April twenty-third,
On Miller's farm he spread his wing,
But he burnt his voice so, he couldn't sing.
Oh, what a time,
Eb'ry day is gettin shorter,
Tee-toatler's hot as brandy,
Will find all dar cold water.
For de arth, &c.

81

A nigger chopped his head off clear,
Kase he felt an arthquake in his ear
A dandy shave his red moustach,
Kase he seed de fire from 'em flash.
O, what a time,
Among de goaty dandies,
Dey'll suspire to parmature,
All in dar high heel panties,
For de arth, &c.

De female dandies in a stew,
Am gettin bustles made bran new,
And puff 'em out like air balloons.
To take 'em straight up to de moon.
Oh, what a time,
De people's heads am turnin,
Some cut dar throats, and some dar sticks,
To cut de day o' burnin.
For de arth, &c.

Old ram horn bellers like a bull,
And tries to hook his pockets full,
But he'll upon that April morn,
Come out "at the little end o' the horn."
Den about dat time,
We'll blow his fire coal, ya!
We'll ride him on a jack behind,
All for an April fool, ya!
For de world, &c.

She. Tell me Josey whar you bin?
To leave me this way is a sin,
You left me all alone to sigh,
It's a wonder I didn't die.

Tell me Josey whar you bin?
He. The way I love her is a sin.
She. Tell me then, or shall I die.
He. If you drop I'm sure to sigh.

She. Tell me Josey whar you bin?
To leave me this way is a sin,
You left me all alone to sigh,
It is a wonder I didn't die.

He. Lubley Dinah, then I'll tell you,
It hapened in an oyster cellar,
A nigger hit me wid a stick,
And I laid him flat wid a large big brick.

He. I laid him right out on the stone.
She. Joe you didn't brake his bone,
He. Yes, I heard something crack,
She. Oh, Joe you've broke the nigger's back.

She. Now tell me Joe, if you will marry
Case I can no longer tarry,
You're the nigger I admire,
You've set my bursting heart on fire.

83

Now tell me Joe if you love me.
He. Dar's none that I adore above thee,
She. My heart with love now is pealing,
He. Oh! Moses how she works my feeling.

Oh! lubly Rose, dare's my hand
No wench could have it in this land,
You are my thoughts by day and night,
Oh! Moses, she's a beautiful sight,

How I do adore the creature.
She. Moses, he's got a splendid feature.
He. She's the only wench I ever see
She. He's stole my heart away from me.

Happy are we niggars so gay,
Come let us sing, laugh while we play,
The serenader's favorite lay,
Come, let us sing, laugh while we play,
Music delicious,
Ah! den how sweet,
Your kind applause,
We all hope to meet,
Happy are we niggars so gay,
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah!
Laugh while we play.

84

Madam Celeste she has de mind,
To dance and act de pantomime,
Elssler de great she has de face,
To dance de Cachuca wid de coup-de-grace.
Dancing delicious,
To see such grace,
With well shaped ancles
And pretty face.
Happy are we, &c. La, la, la

But we serenaders with blackened face,
Have not altogether the mind or the grace,
Of these great dancers so greatly extolled,
But have de harmony wid music threefold.
Music delicious, &c. Ha, ha, ha!

In de nights when we went coon hunting,
Down in massa's field,
We do our best de coon to catch,
Because we know he'll steal;
But when at night we cotch de coon,
We dance upon de green,

85

We am de happiest niggers den,
Dat eber yet was seen.
CHORUS.—And dus we passed de pleasant time,
Nor thought ob care or woe,
An' we am de Serenaders,
From away down below.

De grass smell sweet de coon look neat,
As in de grass he lay,
He crouch himself up head an' feet,
He's cunning as de day;
But when you hear de ole dogs bark,
At first cum faint and low,
Den ebery nigger he will start,
For a coon is night he'l know
An' dus we pass, &c.

We fill our pipe full ebery nite,
An take a todd to cheer
Us 'fore we start by de moonlight
For de coon we lub so dear
Den ob de coon we're shure to tink,
How happy we would be,
If we only had him long wid us,
Beneath de old gum tree
An' dus we pass, &c.

On, de floating scow ob de ole Virginny,
I've worked from day to day,
Raking among de oyster beds,
To me it was but play;
But now I'm old and feeble,
To ole Virginny shore,
Den carry me back to ole Virginny,
To ole Virginny shore.
Oh, carry me back to ole Virginny,
To ole Virginny shore.

Oh, I wish dat I was young again,
Den, I'd lead a different life,
I'd save my money and buy a farm,
And take Dinah for my wife;
But now old age, he holds me tight,
And I cannot love any more,
Oh, carry me back to ole Virginny,
To Ole Virginny shore.

CHORUS.

Den carry me back to old Virginny,
To old Virginny shore.

87

Oh, carry me back to old Virginny,
To old Virginny shore.

When I am dead and gone to roost,
Lay de old tambo by my side.
Let de possum and coon to my funeral go,
For dey are my only pride;
Den in soft repose, I'll take my sleep,
An' I'll dream for ever more
Dat you're carrying me back to ole Virginny,
To ole Virginny shore.

CHORUS

Den carry me back to ole Virginny,
To old Virginny shore.
Oh, carry me back to old Virginny,
To old Virginny shore.

Oh niggers come and listen, a story I'll relate,
It happened in a valley in de ole Carolina state,
It was down in de meadow I used to make de hay,
I always work de harder when I think on you, dear May.
Oh dearest May your lovelier dan de day,
Your eyes so bright they shine at night,
When de moon am gone away.

88

My massa gibe me holiday I wish he'd give me more,
I thanked him very kindly as I shoved my boat from shore,
And down de ribber paddled with a heart as light and free,
To the cottage of my lovely May, I longed so much to see.
Oh dearest May, &c.

On de bank ob de ribber where de trees dey hang so low,
When de coon among de branches play, and de mink he keeps below,
Oh dere is de spot, and May she looks so sweet,
Her eyes dey sparkle like de stars and her lips am red as beet.
Oh dearest May, &c.

Beneath de shady old oak tree I sot for many an hour,
As happy as de buzzard bird dat sports among de flowers,
But dearest May I left her, and she cried when both we parted,
I gave her a long and farewell kiss, and back to massa started.
Oh dearest, may, &c.

Come to the Old Gum Tree,
Where the coon and the possum prance.

89

Come yere niggers and see,
And join in the jovial dance.
The coon is above us,
In his nest in the tree,
We know that he don't love us,
But fond of him are we.
Come to the Old Gum Tree, &c.

Come to the Old Gum Tree,
The wood in the shallow leaves,
The cotton plants and flowers,
For a merry life is ours.
Around and above us,
The banjo's sweet notes,
The voice of these niggers,
Come warbling from their throats.
Come to the Old Gum Tree, &c.

Come to the Old Gum Tree,
So softly boys as you can,
We will catch the coon in the moon,
And fry him in the pan.
That nigger plays the fiddle,
And I the Tamborine,
We are the happiest set of niggers,
That ever 'fore was seen.
Come to the Old Gum Tree, &c.

My Rosy lub is a turtle dove,
She was born in Alabama.
She is the handsomest yaller gal,
In the state of Indianna.
For Rose and I were in the field,
A thunder storm came on,
The lightning came near striking her
I really thought she was gone.
Her head is like a tobacco plant,
Her mouth like the bananna,
She is the handsomest yaller gal,
In the state of Indianna.

My Rosy lub is a turtle dove,
An' I know dat she lubs me,
She is the prettiest yaller gal,
That ever you did see;
Rose and I were returning
When our work was over,
A large black snake jumped out ob de grass,
And bit her on the nose.
Her head is like tobacco plant, &c.

(Spoken.) By golly she could dance, dar wasn't anoder wench on de plantation, dat could beat her dancin', kase she was—

(Spoken.) Golly, she can sing, she once sung so high dat she neber went to bed until de sun shone on—

Long 'fore dis time, dis nigger dwell,
In a place called Tuscanoe,
I loved a girl with tarry skin,
Her name was Cynthia Sue!
Oh, Cynthia, my darlin' honey,
Oh, Cynthia, I lub you more den money.

She used to wink her heels to see
Her Brutus when he come,
His jaw-bone on his solger,
An' de banjo 'tween his thum,
Singing, oh, Cynthia, &c.

93

Brutus sleep awake all night,
An' eat no wittals too,
He lib on air, an' dat air,
Was dis, oh, Cynthia Sue!
Oh, Cynthia, &c.

One night he keep awake all day,
An' dreamp a happy dream,
He felt the voice of Cynthia,
An' thought he saw her scream.
Oh, Cynthia, &c.

De darkey dealers buy me,
Cynthia, sighin', come,
She twist her hands around me,
Like a grape vine round a gum.
Oh, Cynthia, &c.

I've ben to Souf, an' ben to West,
An' ole Wurginny too,
Dar's not no whar, nor any whar,
A gal like Cynthia Sue.
Oh, Cynthia, &c.

Dey took me down ole Massisippi,
De flood was high its true,
But I made it five feet higher,
When I wept for Cynthia Sue.
Oh, Cynthia, &c.

Dey fotch me to New Orleans,
I try to run away,
But yaller fever, an' yaller gals,
Won't let me leabe nor stay.
Oh, Cynthia! my darlin' honey,
Oh, Cynthia, I lub you more den money.

I once did lub a yaller gal,
I'll tell you all her name,
She come from old Birginia,
And dey call her Mary Blane.
Den farewell, farewell,
Farewell poor Mary Blane,
Oh do take care yourself my dear,
I'm coming back again.

When first I fell in love wid her,
Her fections I did gain,
I courted her for seben years,
Before she was Mrs. Blane.

De niggars all went out one night,
A hunting for dar game,
Dey den came to my peaceful hut,
And stole poor Mary Blane.

De time rolled by it griebed me much,
To think no tidings came,
I hunt de woods both night and day,
To find my Mary Blane.

I found my lub tied to a tree,
She was in berry great pain,
De niggars had tarr'd and feadered her,
And so left Mary Blane.

I den did take my lub strait home,
To releibe her from her pain,
But afore de sun did shine next day,
Stiff and cold was Mary Blane.

I once did court a yaller gal,
Her name was Susy Brown,
De white folks said my Susy,
War de Belle of Lynchburg town.
Den tune up dat ole fiddle,
An let de banjo sound,
And I will sing dat good ole song,
About my Susy Brown.

Susy went to a ball one night,
Along wid Sally Russle,
She wore her alligator shoes,
But den forgot her bussel.
Den tune up, &c.

My Susy she is handsome,
My Susy she is young,
I nebber seed a yaller gal,
Ar'd such a flattering tongue.
Den tune up, &c.

For Susy I goes a claming,
And when I make a haul,
I treat dat sassy yaller gal,
To ole Pat Williams' ball.
Den tune up, &c.

My Susy looms it berry tall,
Wid udder like a cow,
Sh'd give nine quarts easy,
But white gals don't know how.
Den tune up, &c.

Oh, bress dat lubly yaller gal,
Dat de white folks call Miss Dina,
Oh, pity me ye niggas all,
And tell me where I can find her.
Oh, now she's gone and left you,
For fear dat you would harm her,
To day after to-morrow,—she's gone to Alabama.
Her hair is like de shining silk,
She's big and round as rorus,
She lives upon good mush and milk,
And morus multicorus.
Oh, now she's gone, &c.

Oh, since she's gone and left me,
My heart is filled wid sorrow,
I'll find some oder yaller gal,
And marry her to-morrow.
Oh, now she's gone, &c.

As I was lumbering down de street,
O down de street,
O down de street,
Dat pretty color'd gal I chanc'd to meet,
O, she was fair to view.

Oh, Buffalo gals, wont you come out to night,
Wont you come out to night,
Wont you come out to night,
O de Buffalo gals wont you come out to night,
And dance by de light ob de moon.

97

Den we stopp'd awhile and had some talk,
O we had some talk,
O we had some talk,
And her heel cover'd up the whole side walk,
As she stood right by me.
Oh Buffalo gals, &c.

I'd like to kiss dem lubly lips,
Dem lubly lips,
Dem lubly lips,
I think dat I could loose my wits,
And drap right on de floor.
Oh Buffalo gals, &c.

I ax'd her would she go to a dance,
Would she go to a dance,
Would she go to a dance,
I thought dat I might have chance,
To shake my foot wid her.
Oh Buffalo gals, &c.

I danc'd all night and my heel kept a rocking,
O my heel kept a rocking,
O my heel kept a rocking,
And I balance to de gal wid a hole in her stocking,
She was the prettiest gal in de room.
Oh Buffalo gals, &c.

I am bound to make dat gal my wife,
Dat gal my wife,
Dat gal my wife,
O, I should be happy all my life,
If I had her along wid me.
Oh Buffalo gals, &c.

White folks I'm a going to sing,
And dance a fancy pigeon wing;
I really feel first rate to-night,
I'll throw myself clar out of sight.
Do far you well, ladies,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, far you well, ladies,
Ise gwine to Alabama.

Tight knee'd boots and square toed breeches,
Oh, gib me de girl dat works de stitches:
Pantaloons strapped down behind,
Which irritates dis nigga's mind.
Do far you well, &c.

Negro wenches in dis town,
Dey walk about and strut around,
De oder day I caught one's eye,
Oh bless you Moses how she did sigh.
Do far you well, &c.

Oh, I wish I was in Tennessee,
With my true love upon my knee,
Oh how happy I would be,
Drinking a Julip sangaree.
Do far you well, &c.

Oh, please get my clothes in order,
For I'm a going to leave you all to-morrow,
Do not let my parting grieve you,
Because I'm going away to leave you.
Do far you well, &c.

A highly popular Song, as sung by Charles White, the great Ethiopian performer and highly finished Sable Brother.

I'm tired of life if I can't find,
My Suke of Tennissee,
I used to meet her in de old corn field,
She's mine where'er she be.
Have any of you seen her,
She's mine where'er she be;
Oh! tell whar I can find her,
My Suke of Tennissee.

She told old Massa 'fore she left,
Dat she was a gwan to leab him;
She look'd like her moder, kase she was black,
And so was her Brudder Stephen.
Have any of you, &c.

She listen to de preachin ob old farder Miller,
She's up in de clouds I believe;
Ses she, far you well all you wicked colored niggers,
Dis land I'se a gwan for to leave.
Have any of you, &c.

She put all de scencion robes on her back,
She climb'd up de big pine tree;
She eider went up or else she came down,
I did not wait for to see.
Have any of you, &c.

Her doggertipe she gav'd to me in ole massa's bower,
And den! oh den! she went away,
I tink to de springs, on gran tower,
But ra'aly dis nigga cannot say.
Have any of you, &c.

I was born in Alabama,
My master's name was Meal,
He used to own a yallow gal,
Her name was Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale,
If I had her in my arms,
How happy I would feel.

Miss Lucy she was handsome,
From de head down to de heel,
And all de niggas fell in love
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale, &c.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

She us'd to go out wid us,
To pick cotton in de field,
And dar is whar I fell in Love
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale, &c.

I asked Miss Lucy would she have me,
How glad she made me feel,
When she gave to me her heart,
My pretty Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

Miss Lucy had a baby,
'Twas limber as an eel,
It was de image of its dad,
And resembled Lucy Neale, &c.

101

My massa he did sell me,
Because he thought I'd steal,
Which caused a separation,
Of myself and Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

My boat it was a opine log,
Without eder rudder or keel,
And I floated down de riber,
A crying poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

De nigga's gave a ball,
Miss Lucy danced a reel,
And none dar could compare,
Wid my poor Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

Miss Lucy she was taken sick,
She eat too much corn meal,
The Doctor he did gib her up,
Alas! poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

One day I got a letter,
And jet black was the seal,
It was de announcement ob de death,
Of my poor Lucy Neale.
And oh! poor Lucy Neale.
And oh! poor Lucy Neale,
If I had her in my arms,
How glad 'twould make me feel.
And all de niggas fell in love
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale, &c.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

She us'd to go out wid us,
To pick cotton in de field,
And dar is whar I fell in Love
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale, &c.

I asked Miss Lucy would she have me,
How glad she made me feel,
When she gave to me her heart,
My pretty Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

Miss Lucy had a baby,
'Twas limber as an eel,
It was de image of its dad,
And resembled Lucy Neale, &c.

101

My massa he did sell me,
Because he thought I'd steal,
Which caused a separation,
Of myself and Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

My boat it was a opine log,
Without eder rudder or keel,
And I floated down de riber,
A crying poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

De nigga's gave a ball,
Miss Lucy danced a reel,
And none dar could compare,
Wid my poor Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

Miss Lucy she was taken sick,
She eat too much corn meal,
The Doctor he did gib her up,
Alas! poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.

One day I got a letter,
And jet black was the seal,
It was de announcement ob de death,
Of my poor Lucy Neale.
And oh! poor Lucy Neale.
And oh! poor Lucy Neale,
If I had her in my arms,
How glad 'twould make me feel.

If you should go in summer time,
To Souf Carolina sultra clime,
And in de shade you chance to lie,
You'll soon find bout dat blue tail fly.
Jim crack corn I don't care!
Jim crack corn! I don't care!
For massa me gave away.

When I was young I used to wait,
On massa's table and hand de plate,
I'd pass the bottle when he dry,
An brush away de blue tail fly,
Jim crack, &c.

When ole massa take his sleep,
He bid dis nigga sight to keep,
An when he gows to shut his eye.
He tell me watch dat blue tail fly.
Jim crack, &c.

Ole massa ride in arternoon,
I follow arter wid a hickory broom,
De pony he is bery shy,
Kase he bitten by de blue tail fly.
Jim crack, &c.

De pony run dar jump an pitch,
He trowed ole massa in the ditch,
He died an de Jury all did cry,
Dat de verdict was de blue tail fly.
Jim Crack, &c.

Ole massa's dead now let him rest,
Dey say all tings am for de best,
I nebber shall forget till the day I die,
Ole massa and de blue tail fly

Mr. Coon is a mighty man!
He carries a bushy tle,
He steals ole Massa's corn at night,
An husks it on a rail.

CHORUS.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy,
Oh do cum along, oh do;
What did Unclke Gabriel say?
Ginney can't you come along toe!

De Squirrel hab a bushy tail,
Stumpy grows de hair—
De Coon's tail am ring'd all 'roun;
De Possum's tail am bare.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

De Fox he is a sabage ting,
Wheneber he takes a notion—
Did you eber see de Fox's tail
A sailing on de Ocean?
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

De Peacock's tail am berry high,
It reach up to de Moon,
He cast his eye upon his foot—
Tail drop berry soon.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

Pig's tail dat is berry short
Curl all round an round,
De ole Sow's tail it grow so long,
It drags upon de ground.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

120

De Tod-pole hab a little tail
Before he turn a Frog;
Den walk into my parlor, gals,
An take a drink ob grog.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

Nigga's hair am berry short,
White man's hair am longer,
White folkes dey smell berry strong,
But Niggas dey smell stronger.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

De Buzzard he pull up my corn—
De shot-gun lest he trigger;
De white folks dey's got no tails—
Neider has de nigger,
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

De Mink he is a mighty ting,
He rambles round an round,
De only ting disturbs his mind,
Am to hear my banjo sound.
Do cum along, ole Sandy, boy, &c.

At night when de niggas work is all done,
Dey sweeps de room
Wid brush and broom,
And clars the track for fun:
De gals dey all come from three miles around,
To sing dis song
De whole night long,
And dance and foot it down:
Wid de fiddle, and de bones, and de old tambo,
Triangle and de ole banjo,
Den come, come, come away before de brake of day.

One night this nigga was taken wid surprise
A nigga wench
Set on de bench,
Who shot me wid her eyes.
She pierced my heart all through and through,
She made me feel
Like a fresh skinned eel,
Just popped into a stew.
Wid de fiddle and de bones, &c.

Wid a fainty voice I call for a calabash of water,
It was brought by her,
When she says dear sir,
I'm old Dame Dowden's daughter.
It rushed through my heart like a ball of fox fire,
It was dat night,
By de moon light
We went before de squire's,
Wid de fiddle and de bones, &c.

123

Oh, now we are marrie, we lives in peace and pleasure,
Wid little Dine,
Dat child of mine,
Dey am my only treasure.
We visits all de niggas every Sunday night,
I loves to walk,
And hear her talk,
All by de bright moon light.

Oh, we come from de mountains,
Ob ole Virginny State,
Repeat
We're a band ob darkies,
From de heel unto de pate,
With a band ob music,
Now go singin through each state.

We hab leff our darkey parents,
In ole Virginny State,
Repeat
Dey bid us good bye,
And we bid dem good bye-er.

169

We am true colored singers,
We make de ole arth ring,

We hab ten oder brothers,
An' we've sisters one and [illegible]
Wid one fader and one mo[illegible]
In ole Virginny State.
Wid all ob us togedder,
We're a smashen wooly tribe,
Oh, handsom bleatin black sheep,
An our history we sing.

Yes, while de air am ringin,
Wid our banjo and singin,
We de news to you am bringin,
From de ole Virginny State,
We'er de tribe ob Sambo,
An dar seberal names we'll sing.

Cudjoe, Banjo, Pompey, Caesar,
Rawbone, Jawbone, Chuffee, Sneezes,
Juba, Jumbo, Pete, an Egg-eye,
And Twolips am our names,
Repeat.
We'er de sons ob Dinah,
Ob de tribe ob Sambo,
And now we touch de banjo
And sing you our Virginia Song.

We're all real darkies,
Our hair an lips am curled,
And we hope to please you,
And sing it through the world.

Oh happy are we niggers so gay,
Come let us sing and laugh while we play,
The serenaders favourite lay,
Oh come let us sing and laugh while we play.
Music delicious,
Ah den how sweet,
Your kind applause,
We all hope to meet.
Ha ha ha ha ha laugh while we play,
Ha ha ha ha ha laugh while we play,

Oh Madam Celeste she has de mind,
To dance and act de great pantomime;
Ellsler de great she has de face,
To dance de cowchoker wid elegant grace.
Dancing delicious,
To see such grace;
Very small anckles,
And pretty face.
Oh happy are we, &c.

But we serenaders wid blackened face,
Have not altogether de mind or de grace,
Ob dese great dancers so greatly extolled,
But hab de harmony wid music threefold.
Music delicious,
Ah den how sweet,
Your kind applause,
We all hope to meet.
Oh happy are we, &c. &c.

When I lib'd in Tennessee,
U li a li o la e,
I went courtin Rosa Lee,
U li a li o la e,
Eyes as dark as winter night,
Lips as red as berry bright,
When first I did her wooing go,
She said, "Now don't be foolish Joe!
U li a li o la e,

188

Courtin down in Tennessee,
U li a li o la e,
'Neath the wild Banana tree,
I said you lubly gal, dat's plain,
U li a li o la e,
Breff as sweet as sugar cane,
U li a li o la e,
Feet as large and comely too,
Might make a cradle ob each shoe,
Rosa, take me for your beau;
She said, "Now don't be foolish, Joe!"
U li a li o la e,
Courtin down in Tennessee, &c.

My story yet is to be told,
U li a li o la e,
Rosa catch'd a shocking cold,
U li a li o la e,
Send de doctor, fetch de nurse,
Doctor came but make her worse,
I tried to make her laugh, but no—
She said, "Now don't be foolish, Joe!"
U li a li o la e,
Courtin down in Tennessee, &c.

Dey gib her up, no power could save,
U li a li o la e,
She ax me follow to her grave,
U li a li o la e,
I take her hand, 'twas cold as death,
So cold I hardly draw my breff;
She saw my tears in sorrow flow,
And said, "Farewell, my dearest Joe!"

I is Ebony Rose, as you may see,
From de iseland call'd Timbuctimbee—
Me ramble up and down dis town,
To look for de nigger what dey calls Jim Brown.

And if me cotch dis ole Jim Brown,
Dat plays dem cimbles about de town,
Me fust hit him up, and den hit him down,
Me play de berry debil wid dis ole Jim Brown.

Oh, I'se de gal what makes dem grin,
Wid de white—wash teef and de blackball chin—
Lips ob red, and turn-up nose,
I'se de beauty—Ebony Rose.

190

Me walk about up Market-street,
A squash up Captain me did meet,
Him quickly fall in lub wid me,
He call me beauty ob ebery degree,
Him smoke cigar, as on him goes,
Him wear him shirt outside him clothes—
But soon me trike dis white nigger dumb,
Cos me wear de bustle all round my bum.
Oh, I'se de gal, &c.

De brack men fust was lords of de earth,
'Twas fear dat gib de white man birth,
For Adam and Eve and de kids to boot,
Was ebery debil as brack as soot,
But when dad Cain his broder did kill,
And buried him underneath de hill,
De ghost of Abel came to Cain one night,
So de Nigger was friten'd, and it turn'd him white.
Oh, I'se de gal, &c.

Den Samson play'd some berry funny jokes—
Him went and killed a thousand folks—
Him chopp'd 'em up like hay or grass,
Wid de jaw bone of an ole jackass.
Den Jonas like a dainty fish,
Him gwan de a debil ob a fellow for fish,
Him like red-herring and cock salmon tail,
And de hungry debil swallow a whale.
Oh, I'se de gal, &c.

But now me lost dis ole Jim Brown,
Me gwan hab a husband from dis town,
Me like a rag'lar tip-top swell,
One dat cuddles up berry well—

191

So any white nigger dat wants a wife,
I is the gal to cheer him life,
Fer dough me's brack, and you be white,
Me's a match for de white man any time of night.
Oh, I'se de gal, &c.

In a little log cabin on old Virginna,
Cousin John, hussa;
There I lived ever since I come from Guinea,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
Put me in corn field to hoe the potatoes,
Long time ago.

I staid with old massa, good many summers,
Cousin John, hussa;
All the time we have good dinners,
Long time ago,

228

Oh every morn if we desire,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
We use to bake the hoe cake before the fire,
Long time ago,

Old Dina was cook and none of the worstest,
Cousin John, hussa;
She use to bake the dodge without any crustes,
Long time ago.
De way dey bake de hoe cake in Virginia neber tire.
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
Dey put it on de foot an hold it to de fire,
Long time ago.

Den I thought I have old Dina for a wife,
Cousin John, hussa;
So at old massa for to save de strifey,
Long time ago;
Old Dina consented to have old Caesar,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
Soon popped the question and did no more tease'n,
Long time ago.

We always have to ax before we get married,
Cousin John, hussa;
So de ting was fixed I did no longer tarry.
Long time ago.
Now I loves her to extraction;
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
And she loves me and hears de confexion,
Long time ago.

229

Massa soon found we was good property,
Cousin John, hussa;
He sold de little niggers and de money he did pocket,
Long time ago.
But when old Dina didn't have no more,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh;
So he sell old Caesar and send him down de river,
Long time ago.

But I didn't stay long in de wild goose nation,
Cousin John, hussa;
There dey make de niggers work de plantation,
Long time ago.
Oh ebery morn massa look sower,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh ;
Give de niggers thirty-nine ebery half hour,
Long time ago.

O, how you do, all round about?
Does all your moders know your out?
No matter wedder friend or broder,
We all should try to serve one anoder.
Black and white niggers,
Dey're nature's niggers,
Brought up upon de stage of life, sirs.

Some niggers will get in a rage,
And say dat, 'All de world's a stage'
And men and women are de players,
For dey dance and sing 'Sich a getting up stairs.'
Black and white, &c.

236

Some nigger chap in love is seen,
Him 'Pop de question to him queen',
For kings and queens dey pull loves trigger,
Dey fall in love, and 'why shouldn't de nigger.'
Black and white, &c.

Poor nigger live in humble life,
Wid piccaninies round him wife,
'Till him jealous made by some Iago fellow,
So him kill him wife just like 'Othello.'
Black and white, &c.

Poor nigger wid rebuffs and scorn,
Den finds him 'occupation gone;'
Him cry 'Revenge is sweet heart's ease sir,
Like Richard de Third,' and 'Julicum Seize her.'
Black and white, &c.

De 'Hunchback' for de wife now grieves,
De 'Heir at Law' plays wid 'Honest thieves,'
Great favorites on de stage want statues,
Of Edmund Kean, John Reeve, and Matthews.
Black and white, &c.

De 'Giant, lion, snakes and bears.'
De 'Arabs' and de 'Bayaderes'
De 'Monkies, dogs and goats and Ions,
All 'Jump Jim Crow wid de 'Lady of Lyons.'
Black and white, &c.

Pray do not censure poor nigger's pranks,
But do receive him massa's thanks,

237

And me wish success and approbation,
To dis old English population.
Black and white, &c.

I come from Alabama with my Banjo on my knee
I'm gwine to Louisiana my true lub for to see,
It rained all night de day I left, the wedder it was dry,
De sun so hot, I froze to deff, Susanna don't you cry.

247

CHORUS.
Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me,
He come from Alabama,
With his banjo on his knee.

I'll soon be down in New Orleans, and den I'll run around,
An if I see Susanna, I'll fall upon de ground,
But if I do not see her, this darky'l surely die,
And when I'm dead and buried, Susanna don't you cry.
Oh, Susanna, &c.

I jump'd aboard de telegraph, an trabelled down de ribber,
The 'lectric fluid magnified and killed four hundred nigga,
De bullgine bust, de horse run off, I really thought to die,
I shut my eyes to hold my breath, Susanna don't you cry.
Oh, Susanna, &c.

I had a dream de oder night when every thing was still,
I thought I saw Susanna a commin down de hill,
De buckwheat cake was in her mouf, do tear was in her eye,
Says I, I'm comin from de Souf, Susanna don't you cry.
Oh, Susanna, &c.

I once knew a darky and his name was Uncle Ned,
O he died long ago,—long ago,
He had no hair on the top of his head,
The place where de wool ought to grow
Lay dowp the shovel and the hoe,
Hang up the fiddle and the bow,
For no more work for poor old Ned,
He's gone where the good darkies go.

His fingers were long like the cane in the brake
And he had no eyes for to see,
He had no teeth for to eat de hoe cake,
So he had to let the hoe cake be.
Lay down, &c.

One cold frosty morning old Ned died,
Oh, the tears down massa's face run like rain,
For he knew when Ned was laid in the ground,
He'd nebber see his like again.
Lay down, &c.

CHRISTY'S Nigga Songster