Missouri is the pride of the nation,
The hope of the brave and the free;
The Confederacy will furnish the rations,
But the fighting is trusted to thee;
For, brave boys, your soil has been noted,
And your flag has been trusted to you;
For freedom you have not yet voted,
But you fight for the Red, White, and Blue.
Chorus—Three cheers, etc.
The Stars shall shine bright in the heaven,
But the Stripes should be trailed in the dust,
For they are no longer the sign of the haven
Of the brave, of the free, or the just;
The Bars now in triumph shall wave
O’er the land of the faithful and true;
O’er the home of the Southern brave
Shall float the new Red, White, and Blue.
Chorus—Three cheers, etc.

O JOHNNY BULL, MY JO JOHN.

Air—“John Anderson, my Jo.”

It was stated in the Richmond “Dispatch” during the last days of December, 1861, that a gentleman, just from the West Indies, had said that there were eighty-seven British ships-of-war lying in those waters. This statement gave rise to the following imitation of an old song:

O Johnny Bull, my Jo John! I wonder what you mean,
By sending all these frigates out, commissioned by the Queen;
You’ll frighten off the Yankees, John, and why should you do so?
Best catch and sink, or burn them all, O Johnny Bull, my Jo!

O Johnny Bull, my Jo John! when Yankee hands profane,
Were laid in wanton insult upon the lion’s mane,
He roared so loud and long, John, they quickly let him go,
And sank upon their trembling knees, O Johnny Bull, my Jo!
O Johnny Bull, my Jo John! when Lincoln first began
To try his hand at war, John, you were a peaceful man;
But now your blood is up, John, and well the Yankees know,
You play the —— when you start, O Johnny Bull, my Jo!
O Johnny Bull, my Jo John, let’s take the field together,
And hunt the Yankee Doodles home, in spite of wind and weather,
And ere a twelvemonth roll around, to Boston we will go,
And eat our Christmas dinner there, O Johnny Bull, my Jo!

“SOUTHRONS.”

BY CATHERINE M. WARFIELD.