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FOLK-SONGS OF THE CIVIL WAR.
It is no time to dodge the act ;
Brave comrades, don't you think so ?
I was a ploughboy in the field,
A gawky, lazy dodger, When came the conscript officer
And took me for a sodger. He put a musket in my hand,
And showed me how to fire it ; I marched and countermarched all day ;
Lord, how I did admire it!
With corn and hog fat for my food,
And digging, guarding, drilling, I got as thin as twice-skimmed milk,
And was scarcely worth the killing. And now I 'm used to homely fare,
My skin as tough as leather, I do guard duty cheerfully
In every kind of weather.
I 'm brimful of fight, my boys,
I would not give a " thank ye " For all the smiles the girls can give
Until I 've killed a Yankee. High private is a glorious rank,
There 's wide room for promotion ; I '11 get a corporal's stripes some day,
When fortune 's in the notion.
'T is true I have not seen a fight, Nor have I smelt gunpowder, |
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