THE UNIVERSAL COTTON GIN.
He journeyed all creation through,
A peddler's wagon, trotting in;
A haggard man, of sallow hue,
Upon his nose the goggles blue,
And in his cart a model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
His seedy garb was sad to view—
Hard seemed the strait he'd gotten in;
He plainly couldn't boast a sou,
And meanly fared on water-gru-
el, or had swallowed whole a U-
niversal nigger-cotton gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
To all he met—Turk, Christian, Jew—
He meekly said, 'I'm not in tin;
In fact I'm in a serious stew,
And therefore offer unto you,
At half its worth, my model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
'As sure as four is two and two,
It rules the world we're plotting in;
It made and ruined Yankee Doo-
dle, stuck to him like Cooper's glue,
And so to you would stick this U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.'
Now Johnny Bull the peddler knew,
And thus replied with not a grin:
'Hi loves your 'gin' like London brew-
ed ale, but loathes the hinstitu-
tion vitch propels your model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
'Hi knows such coves as you a few,
And, zur, just now, hi'm not in tin;
Hi tells you vot, great Yankee Doo-
dle might hincline to put me through
Hif hi should buy your model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.'
Then spake smooth Monsieur Parlez-vous,
Whose gilded throne was got in sin,—
(As was he too, if tales are true):
'I does not vant your modal U-'
(He sounds a V for W)
'niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
A negar in de fence I view—
Your grand machine he's rotting in;
I smells him now, he stinketh! w-h-e-w—
Give me a good tobacco chew,
And you may keeps your modal U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.'
The peddler then sloped quickly to
The land he was begotten in;
With woeful visage, feelings blue,
He sadly questioned what to do,
When none would buy his model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
From out his pocket then he drew
A rag that blood was clotting in;
It had a field of heavenly blue,
Was flecked with stars—the very few
That glimmered on his model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
He gazed long on its tarnished hue,
And mourned the fix he'd gotten in;
Then filled his eyes with contrite dew,
As in its folds his nose he blew,
And thus addressed his model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin.
'Thou crownless king, thy days are few;
The world thou art forgotten in;
Ere thou dost die, thy life review,
Repent thy crimes, thy wrongs undo,
Give freedom to the dusky crew
Whose blood now stains the model U-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin-
niversal nigger-cotton-gin!'
A SORROWFUL DIALOGUE.
FRIEND OF HUMANITY.
Needy axe-grinder! whither are you going?
Sad is your visage, sadder far your raiment,
Rimless your hat, your coat has got a hole in't,
So have your trowsers!
Seedy axe-grinder! little know the great ones,
Who buy fat jobs, and steal the public lucre,
What times befall the poverty-stricken devils
Who grind their axes!
Tell me, axe-grinder, how you came so seedy?
Did some great man ungratefully entreat you?
Was it Fernando, first king of our Gotham,
Or the Collector?
Or did some evil Weed set you to burning
The Cataline, and pocket all the plunder;
Or did the patriot Ben engulf your little
All in a lottery?
Tell me, axe-grinder! 'tell me how you cum so:'
'Drops of compassion tremble on my eyelids,
Ready to fall the moment you have told your
Pitiful story.'
AXE-GRINDER.
Story! God bless you! mine is sad to tell, sir;
The gratitude of great men drove me downward,
Reduced me to these shoddy coat and trowsers
So sad and seedy!
Listen! while I disclose the secrets of the
Mansion which standeth on Broadway, where strangers
Are taken in and done for at two dollars
And a half per diem.
There congregate Lord Thurlow, Alexander
The Wonder of the World, and they who pull the
Wool o'er the eyelids of the veteran Com-
Missary-general.
And there, while they within did manufacture
The ways and means to 'work' this foul rebellion,
I kept the door without, and turned the grindstone
Which ground their axes.
And daily to their private closet came one
Called Orsamus, of fame in all the churches,
Whose savory name smells sweetly to all lovers
Of public plunder.
'Twas queer the ex-(tra) congress man resorted
There; strange they were to all invisible when
His oily visage, like a magic lantern,
Lit the apartment.
It were a Matter-son or father might take
A note of; so I questioned of the key-hole,
And, lo! they would bestow warm raiment on our
Suffering soldiers.
I deemed the subject worthy of attention,
The more so as a very fat commission
Would be gained by it, so as almoner I
Tendered my service.
I looked for thanks; when, lo! they gave me none, sir,
But, calling eavesdroppers ungodly sinners,
Applied their patent-leathers to my tender
Unmentionables.
FRIEND OF HUMANITY.
They served you right; take wholesome warning by it,
Leave state affairs to those who live upon 'em;
Should not the ox that treadeth in the corn-crib
Eat of the hoe-cakes?
How noble such care for our shivering heroes!
Who would not gladly perish for his country
When, for his sake, her great men stoop so low as
The shoddy business!