Pluri-bus-tah / 171 And resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work and do his drudging. But he didn’t mean to pay him, Pay him for his toiling labor, That would be no speculation, For he loved his darling dollars; And his thought was how to save them, Keep them in his breeches pocket. He resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work for him for nothing, Make him work, or else he’d lick him. Pluri-bus-tah then got ready; For the battle then made ready; First took off his coat and jacket, Put his boots on, rolled his sleeves up; Then he took a horn of whisky, Old Monongahela whisky, Whisky made of Indian corn-juice, Of the juice of the Mondainin, Treated of in Hiawatha; Drank about a half a gallon, Then went out to fight with Cuffee. Pretty soon he met with Cuffee, Said, “ Good morning to you, Cuffee; How are all the babies, Cuffee? How is pretty Mistress Cuffee?” For a while he talked with Cuffee; Then he made a face at Cuffee; Then, at once, squared off at Cuffee, Instantly “sailed into” Cuffee; And he whaled away at Cuffee, Injured and astonished Cuffee! Cuffee’s shins were bruised and battered; Cuffee’s ribs were sore and aching; Cuffee’s wool was torn and tangled; Cuffee’s head was mauled and pummeled Till his eyes stuck out like onions, And his nose looked like a sausage, Juicy sausage, damaged sausage. And each lip looked like an oyster,

doi:10.4324/9781351181563-22

Chapter

Pluri-bus-tah / 171 And resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work and do his drudging. But he didn’t mean to pay him, Pay him for his toiling labor, That would be no speculation, For he loved his darling dollars; And his thought was how to save them, Keep them in his breeches pocket. He resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work for him for nothing, Make him work, or else he’d lick him. Pluri-bus-tah then got ready; For the battle then made ready; First took off his coat and jacket, Put his boots on, rolled his sleeves up; Then he took a horn of whisky, Old Monongahela whisky, Whisky made of Indian corn-juice, Of the juice of the Mondainin, Treated of in Hiawatha; Drank about a half a gallon, Then went out to fight with Cuffee. Pretty soon he met with Cuffee, Said, “ Good morning to you, Cuffee; How are all the babies, Cuffee? How is pretty Mistress Cuffee?” For a while he talked with Cuffee; Then he made a face at Cuffee; Then, at once, squared off at Cuffee, Instantly “sailed into” Cuffee; And he whaled away at Cuffee, Injured and astonished Cuffee! Cuffee’s shins were bruised and battered; Cuffee’s ribs were sore and aching; Cuffee’s wool was torn and tangled; Cuffee’s head was mauled and pummeled Till his eyes stuck out like onions, And his nose looked like a sausage, Juicy sausage, damaged sausage. And each lip looked like an oyster,

Chapter

Pluri-bus-tah / 171 And resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work and do his drudging. But he didn’t mean to pay him, Pay him for his toiling labor, That would be no speculation, For he loved his darling dollars; And his thought was how to save them, Keep them in his breeches pocket. He resolved to conquer Cuffee, Make him work for him for nothing, Make him work, or else he’d lick him. Pluri-bus-tah then got ready; For the battle then made ready; First took off his coat and jacket, Put his boots on, rolled his sleeves up; Then he took a horn of whisky, Old Monongahela whisky, Whisky made of Indian corn-juice, Of the juice of the Mondainin, Treated of in Hiawatha; Drank about a half a gallon, Then went out to fight with Cuffee. Pretty soon he met with Cuffee, Said, “ Good morning to you, Cuffee; How are all the babies, Cuffee? How is pretty Mistress Cuffee?” For a while he talked with Cuffee; Then he made a face at Cuffee; Then, at once, squared off at Cuffee, Instantly “sailed into” Cuffee; And he whaled away at Cuffee, Injured and astonished Cuffee! Cuffee’s shins were bruised and battered; Cuffee’s ribs were sore and aching; Cuffee’s wool was torn and tangled; Cuffee’s head was mauled and pummeled Till his eyes stuck out like onions, And his nose looked like a sausage, Juicy sausage, damaged sausage. And each lip looked like an oyster,

ABSTRACT

The largest sale of human chattels that has been made in Star-Spangled America for several years took place on Wednesday and Thursday of

last week, at the Race Course near the City of Savannah, Georgia. The lot consisted of four hundred and thirty-six men, women, children and infants, being that half of the negro stock remaining on the old Major Butler plantation which fell to one of the two heirs to that estate. Ma jor Butler dying, left a property valued at more than a million of dol lars, the major part of which was invested in rice and cotton planta tions, and the slaves thereon, all of which immense fortune descended to two heirs, his sons, Mr. John A. Butler, sometime deceased, and Mr. Pierce M. Butler, still living, and resident in the City of Philadelphia, in the free State of Pennsylvania. Losses in the grand crash of 1 8 5 7 -8 , and other exigencies of business, have impelled the latter gentleman to realize on his Southern investments, that he may satisfy sundry press ing creditors, and be enabled to resume business with the surplus, if any. This necessity led to a partition of the negro stock on the Georgia plantations, between himself and the representative of the other heir, the widow of the late John A. Butler, and the negroes that were brought to the hammer last week were the property of Mr. Pierce M. Butler of Philadelphia, and were in fact sold to pay Mr. Pierce M. Butler’s debts. The creditors were represented by Gen. Cadwallader, while Mr. Butler was present in person, attended by his business agent, to attend to his own interests.