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FLIGHT OF DOODLES.
I come from old Manassas, with a pocket full of fun— I killed forty Yankees with a single-barrelled gun ; It don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I, Big Yankee, little Yankee, all run or die.
I saw all the Yankees at Bull Run, They fought like the devil when the battle first begun, But it don't make a niff-a-stifFerence to neither you or I They took to their heels, boys, and you ought to see 'em fly.
I saw old Fuss-and-Feathers Scott, twenty miles away,
His horses stuck up their ears, and you ought to hear 'em
neigh; But it don't make niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I, Old Scott fled like the devil, boys; root, hog, or die.
I then saw a "Tiger," from the old Crescent City, He cut down the Yankees without any pity: Oh! it don't make a diff-a-bitterence to neither you nor I, We whipped the Yankee boys, and made the boobies cry.
I saw South Carolina, the first in the cause, Shake the dirty Yankees till she broke all their jaws; Oh ! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I, South Carolina give 'em—bo3's; root, hog, or die.
I saw old Virginia, standing firm and true, She fought mighty hard to whip the dirty crew; |
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