J H JOHNSON’S CARD AND JOB PRINTING OFFICE, No, 7 N, Tenth Street above Market, Phila,
Way down in South Car’lina State,
In Uncle Sam’s domains;
A naughty child called Dixie lived,
Who lacked sufficient brains.
He had been been fed on Public Pap,
Till he had saucy grown;
And thought he’d start a Government,
And have it all his own.
The game you’ve surely lost,
You’ll have to settle shortly
So better count the cost.
Then meddlesome Britannia came,
To make the matter worse,
And naughty little Dixie took,
Unto her arms to nurse;
He thrived a while and grew to be
A pretty good sized boy,
And nurse Britannia looked on him.
And watched his growth with joy,
Britannia was quite jealous of
Her neighbour Uncle Sam,
So full of wicked thoughts did she,
The head of Dixie cram,
She nursed him well untill she thought
He large enough had grown,
To try the hard experiment
Of standing all alone.
She built him many pretty ships,
With which to sail the sea,
And taught him how to rob, and play
The game of Piracy.
Of swords and rifles, shot and shell,
The gave him quite a store,
And took his worthless Cotton Bonds
For twice as many more.
Good natured Uncle Sam looked on,
Untill he could not stand
The noise and trouble Dixie made,
Within his peaceful laud.
And when HE gets HIS dander up
You’d better all stand clear,
He has a temper, which we know
All Europe’s monarchs fear.
Then stretching forth his strong right arm
He gave the boy a whack,
Which dislocated ev’ry bone
In naughty Dixie’s back.
And all that marks the fatal spot
Where little Dixie fell,
Is bonnet, boots, a pair of spurs,
Hoop-Skirt and Bal-mo-ral.