The New Yankee Doodle / 183 They said “He’d work in handy.” While master led the chivalry At home he’d keep the pot on, Would cure the bacon, grind the corn, And cultivate the cotton. “The mud-sills, on the other hand, Unless ubiquitous, sir, Would have no tillers of the land; The Yanks iniquitous, sir, Would reap destruction close at home, The while they sowed abroad— Supported by no Patriarch’s rule, And governed by no God. “The servile race was trained so well, In case of a disaster Why, Sam would hasten to the field, And battle for his master.” Well, Sambo toiled and Sambo dreamed, And nothing Sambo spoke, sir, Till Yankee guns and bay’nets gleamed, And sleeping Sambo woke, sir. “ Ole Missus,” rising in the morn, And very much belated, Declared the house felt all forlorn— And strange! no breakfast waited. For Sambo Cook the night before, All suddenly inspired, Had closed outside his cabin door,— In Sunday clothes attired— With Dinah and the little ones, Had taken, in the damp, And cold, and dark, the road that runs Into the Yankee camp. Abe’s generals saw the tide set in, It wasn’t to their notion; Some did with their small brooms begin To sweep back, sir, the ocean. Said they, “ Our well digested plan, Our duty strict defines,

DOI link for The New Yankee Doodle / 183 They said “He’d work in handy.” While master led the chivalry At home he’d keep the pot on, Would cure the bacon, grind the corn, And cultivate the cotton. “The mud-sills, on the other hand, Unless ubiquitous, sir, Would have no tillers of the land; The Yanks iniquitous, sir, Would reap destruction close at home, The while they sowed abroad— Supported by no Patriarch’s rule, And governed by no God. “The servile race was trained so well, In case of a disaster Why, Sam would hasten to the field, And battle for his master.” Well, Sambo toiled and Sambo dreamed, And nothing Sambo spoke, sir, Till Yankee guns and bay’nets gleamed, And sleeping Sambo woke, sir. “ Ole Missus,” rising in the morn, And very much belated, Declared the house felt all forlorn— And strange! no breakfast waited. For Sambo Cook the night before, All suddenly inspired, Had closed outside his cabin door,— In Sunday clothes attired— With Dinah and the little ones, Had taken, in the damp, And cold, and dark, the road that runs Into the Yankee camp. Abe’s generals saw the tide set in, It wasn’t to their notion; Some did with their small brooms begin To sweep back, sir, the ocean. Said they, “ Our well digested plan, Our duty strict defines,

The New Yankee Doodle / 183 They said “He’d work in handy.” While master led the chivalry At home he’d keep the pot on, Would cure the bacon, grind the corn, And cultivate the cotton. “The mud-sills, on the other hand, Unless ubiquitous, sir, Would have no tillers of the land; The Yanks iniquitous, sir, Would reap destruction close at home, The while they sowed abroad— Supported by no Patriarch’s rule, And governed by no God. “The servile race was trained so well, In case of a disaster Why, Sam would hasten to the field, And battle for his master.” Well, Sambo toiled and Sambo dreamed, And nothing Sambo spoke, sir, Till Yankee guns and bay’nets gleamed, And sleeping Sambo woke, sir. “ Ole Missus,” rising in the morn, And very much belated, Declared the house felt all forlorn— And strange! no breakfast waited. For Sambo Cook the night before, All suddenly inspired, Had closed outside his cabin door,— In Sunday clothes attired— With Dinah and the little ones, Had taken, in the damp, And cold, and dark, the road that runs Into the Yankee camp. Abe’s generals saw the tide set in, It wasn’t to their notion; Some did with their small brooms begin To sweep back, sir, the ocean. Said they, “ Our well digested plan, Our duty strict defines,