Jeff. Davis in his Wife's Clothes

A. W. AUNER, SONG PUBLISHER, N. E. Cor. 11th, & MARKET, PHILADA. PA.

Jeff. Davis In His Wife’s Clothes.

Jefferson Davis took to the woods,
With his wife, and his children, and portable goods,
Intending, as soon as he could, to go,
By hook or by crook, to Mexico.

The boys of the valiant Fourth Michigan,
All of a sudden softly began,
In the early morning, dark and damp,
To surround the fugitive traitor’s camp,
Jeff scratched his head, and rubbed his eyes,
And looked uncommonly grave and wise,
And listened a moment. “O, ho!” says he.

“What’s this party of men I see?
The Yankees are on us! come, hurry, my wife!
Get up this moment, and run for your life!
No time to be lost! Be smart, my dear,
For the way things look, it’s torribly clear
The Yankees will presently run us down!
Come, give me your bonnet and shawl, and gown!
You may stay here, behind this tree,
While I put on your garments, and flee.

Jefferson D. didn’t look very neat,
His boots stuck out about “a foet,”
And the hooks of the garment wouldn’t meet,
And the wires of the plaguy old hoop skirt,
Caught in his heels, and trailed in the dirt.
The hoops flew up, and the bonnet hung down
On the back of his neck, and the back of the gown;
And the men of the brave Fourth Michigan,
When they saw this sigular female man,
And noticed the manner in which he ran,
Rushed on to the capture with glorious shout,
While Mrs. D.. in a rage cried out,

“Don’t hit the President, nasty men,
For he’ll certainly hit you back again;
Though he’s clad in my bonnet, and gown, and shirt,
He’s got a knife, and he’ll surely hurt
you fellows, and knock you flat in the dirt!”

And “the President” bravely brandished a knife,
while clad in the feminine clothes of his wife;
But it didn’t do; and that is the end
Of the traitor’s fightings, you may depend.

A. W. AUNER’S PRINTING OFFICE, N. E. COR, ELEVENTH & MARKET, PHILADA.

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