I don't purtend to foller him, but give ye jes' the

heads;

For pulpit ellerkence, you know, 'most ollers kin' o' spreads.

Ham's seed wuz gin to us in chairge, an' should n't we be li'ble

In Kingdom Come, ef we kep' back their priv❜lege in the Bible?

The cusses an' the promerses make one gret chain,

an' ef

You snake one link out here, one there, how much on't ud be lef' ?

All things wuz gin to man for 's use, his sarvice, an' delight;

An' don't the Greek an' Hebrew words thet mean a Man mean White?

Ain't it belittlin' the Good Book in all its proudes'

featurs

To think 't wuz wrote for black an' brown an' 'las

ses-colored creaturs,

Thet could n' read it, ef they would, nor ain't by lor allowed to,

But ough' to take wut we think suits their naturs, an' be proud to?

Warn't it more prof'table to bring your raw materil thru

Where you can work it inta grace an' inta cotton,

tu,

Than sendin' missionaries out where fevers might

defeat 'em,

An' of the butcher did n' call, their p'rishioners might eat 'em?

An' then, agin, wut airthly use? Nor 't warn't our fault, in so fur

Ez Yankee skippers would keep on atotin' on 'em

over.

"T improved the whites by savin' 'em from ary need o' workin',

An' kep' the blacks from bein' lost thru idleness an' shirkin';

We took to 'em ez nat'ral ez a barn-owl doos to

mice,

An' hed our hull time on our hands to keep us out

o' vice;

It made us feel ez pop'lar ez a hen doos with one

chicken,

An' fill our place in Natur's scale by givin' 'em a

lickin':

For why should Cæsar git his dues more 'n Juno, Pomp, an' Cuffy?

It's justifyin' Ham to spare a nigger when he's

stuffy.

Where'd their soles go tu, like to know, ef we should let 'em ketch

Freeknowledgism an' Fourierism an' Speritoolism an' sech?

When Satan sets himself to work to raise his very

bes' muss,

He scatters roun' onscriptur'l views relatin' to Ones'mus.

You'd ough' to seen, though, how his facs an'

argymunce an' figgers

Drawed tears o' real conviction from a lot o' pen'tent niggers!

It warn't like Wilbur's meetin', where you 're shet up in a pew,

Your dickeys sorrin' off your ears, an' bilin' to be

thru ;

Ther' wuz a tent clost by thet hed a kag o' sunthin'

in it,

Where you could go, ef you wuz dry, an' damp ye in a minute ;

An' ef

you

did dror off a spell, ther' wuz n't no occasion

To lose the thread, because, ye see, he bellered like all Bashan.

It's dry work follerin' argymunce an' so, 'twix' this an' thet,

I felt conviction weighin' down somehow inside my

hat;

It growed an' growed like Jonah's gourd, a kin' o' whirlin' ketched me,

Ontil I fin❜lly clean gin out an' owned up thet he 'd fetched me;

An' when nine tenths o' th' perrish took to tumblin' roun' an' hollerin',

I did n' fin' no gret in th' way o' turnin' tu an' fol

lerin'.

Soon ez Miss S. see thet, sez she, "Thet's wut I call wuth seein'!

Thet's actin' like a reas'nable an' intellectle bein'!"

An' so we fin❜lly made it up, concluded to hitch

hosses,

An' here I be 'n my ellermunt among creation's

bosses;

Arter I'd drawed sech heaps o' blanks, Fortin at last hez sent a prize,

An' chose me for a shinin' light o' missionary enta

prise.

This leads me to another pint on which I've changed my plan

O' thinkin' so 's 't I might become a straight-out Southun man.

Miss S. (her maiden name wuz Higgs, o' the fus’ fem❜ly here)

On her Ma's side 's all Juggernot, on Pa's all Cav

ileer,

An' sence I've merried into her an' stept into her

shoes,

It ain't more 'n nateral thet I should modderfy my

views:

I've ben a-readin' in Debow ontil I've fairly gut So 'nlightened thet I'd full ez lives ha' ben a Dook ez nut;

An' when we've laid ye all out stiff, an' Jeff hez gut his crown,

An' comes to pick his nobles out, wun't this child be in town!

We'll hev an Age o' Chivverlry surpassin' Mister Burke's,

Where every fem'ly is fus'-best an' nary white man works:

Our system's sech, the thing 'll root ez easy ez a

tater;

For while your lords in furrin parts ain't noways marked by natur',

Nor sot apart from ornery folks in featurs nor in

figgers,

Ef ourn 'll keep their faces washed, you'll know 'em from their niggers.

Ain't sech things wuth secedin' for, an' gittin' red

o' you

Thet waller in your low idees, an' will tell all is

blue?

Fact is, we air a diff'rent race, an' I, for one, don't

see,

Sech havin' ollers ben the case, how w' ever did

agree.

It's sunthin' thet you lab'rin'-folks up North hed ough' to think on,

Thet Higgses can't bemean themselves to rulin' by a Lincoln,

Thet men, (an' guv'nors, tu,) thet hez sech Normal names ez Pickens,

Accustomed to no kin' o' work, 'thout 't is to givin'

lickins,

Can't masure votes with folks thet get their livins from their farms,

An' prob❜ly think thet Law's ez good ez hevin' coats o' arms.

Sence I've ben here, I've hired a chap to look about for me

To git me a transplantable an' thrifty fem❜ly-tree, An' he tells me the Sawins is ez much o' Normal

blood

Ez Pickens an' the rest on 'em, an' older 'n Noah's

flood.

Your Normal schools wun't turn ye into Normals, for it's clear,