Reminiscences of an army nurse during the Civil War

by Adelaide W. Smith

I’ll let Sambo be murthered instead of myself,

On every day in the year.

On every day in the year.

And in every hour in the day,

The right to be kilt I’ll divide wid him,

An’ divil a word I’ll say.

In battie’s wild commotion,

I shouldn’t at all object

If Sambo’s body should stop a ball

That was comin’ for me direct;