We will make one law for him and another for us, and he will sigh for the good old times when he wuz a slave in earnest.
His wife shel be our conkebine, ef she is fair to look upon; and ef he murmurs, we’ll bust his head.
His daughters shel our sons possess; and their inkrease will we sell, and live upon the price they bring.
In our fields they shel labor; but the price uv their toil shel make us fat.
Sing, O my soul!
The nigger hed become sassy and impudent, and denied that he wuz a servant unto his brethren.
He sheltered hisself behind the Freedman’s Burow, and the Civil Rites Bill, and the soldiery, and he wagged his lip at us, and made mouths at us.
And we longed to git at him, but because of these we durst not.
But now who shell succor him.
We will smite him hip and thigh, onless he consents to be normal.