THE FOGY DAYS AXD NOW 



THE OLD SLAVE REGIME. 



Our paternal grounds spread out wide, 

 View them o'er took many a stride, 

 Were owners too of many slaves, 

 Who worked our crops, dug our graves. 



Cooked our food, brushed our suits, 



Hitched our teams, blacked our boots, 



Hauled the wood and made the fires, 

 And did these things for our sires. 



Kept a dozen about the house. 

 Some in livery, some in blouse ; 

 Fed and clothed, thrashed them well, 

 If they got too mean, then would sell. 



Master was good, if slave was true. 

 And such were nicely treated too ; 

 Did as well for them as we could. 

 Doubtless as well as Yankees would. 



Gave them tobacco, sometimes dram. 

 These were the things that tickled Sam-(bo), 

 And made his white teeth to shine. 

 When well pleased this was the sign. 



Their little cabins were all in line. 

 Like little town, but not so fine ; 

 'Twas what we called the quarter, 

 Near some spring, or running water. 



