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JONATHAN TO JOHN

James Russell Lowell

It don't seem hardly right, John,

When both my hands was full,

To stump me to a fight, John,--

Your cousin, tu, John Bull!

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

We know it now,' sez he,

'The lion's paw is all the law,

Accordin' to J.B.,

Thet's fit for you an' me!' 9

 

You wonder why we're hot, John?

Your mark wuz on the guns,

The neutral guns, thet shot, John,

Our brothers an' our sons:

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

There's human blood,' sez he,

'By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts,

Though't may surprise J.B.

More 'n it would you an' me.'

 

Ef _I_ turned mad dogs loose, John,

On _your_ front-parlor stairs, 20

Would it jest meet your views, John,

To wait an' sue their heirs?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

I on'y guess,' sez he,

'Thet ef Vattel on _his_ toes fell,

'Twould kind o' rile J.B.,

Ez wal ez you an' me!'

 

Who made the law thet hurts, John,

_Heads I win,--ditto tails?_

'J.B.' was on his shirts, John, 30

Onless my memory fails.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

(I'm good at thet),' sez he,

'Thet sauce for goose ain't _jest_ the juice

For ganders with J.B.,

No more 'n with you or me!'

 

When your rights was our wrongs, John,

You didn't stop for fuss,--

Britanny's trident prongs, John,

Was good 'nough law for us. 40

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

Though physic's good,' sez he,

'It doesn't foller thet he can swaller

Prescriptions signed "J.B.,"

Put up by you an' me!'

 

We own the ocean, tu, John:

You mus'n' take it hard,

Ef we can't think with you, John,

It's jest your own back-yard. 49

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

Ef _thet's_ his claim,' sez he,

'The fencin' stuff'll cost enough

To bust up friend J.B.,

Ez wal ez you an' me!'

 

Why talk so dreffle big, John,

Of honor when it meant

You didn't care a fig, John,

But jest for _ten per cent?_

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

He's like the rest,' sez he: 60

'When all is done, it's number one

Thet's nearest to J.B.,

Ez wal ez t' you an' me!'

 

We give the critters back, John,

Cos Abram thought 'twas right;

It warn't your bullyin' clack, John,

Provokin' us to fight.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

We've a hard row,' sez he,

'To hoe jest now; but thet, somehow, 70

May happen to J.B.,

Ez wal ez you an' me!'

 

We ain't so weak an' poor, John,

With twenty million people.

An' close to every door, John,

A school-house an' a steeple.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

It is a fact,' sez he,

'The surest plan to make a Man

Is, think him so, J.B., 80

Ez much ez you or me!'

 

Our folks believe in Law, John;

An' it's for her sake, now,

They've left the axe an' saw, John,

The anvil an' the plough.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

Ef 'twarn't for law,' sez he,

'There'd be one shindy from here to Indy;

An' thet don't suit J.B.

(When't ain't 'twixt you an' me!) 90

 

We know we've got a cause, John,

Thet's honest, just, an' true;

We thought 'twould win applause, John,

Ef nowheres else, from you.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

His love of right,' sez he,

'Hangs by a rotten fibre o' cotton:

There's natur' in J.B.,

Ez wal 'z in you an' me!'

 

The South says, '_Poor folks down!_' John, 100

An' '_All men up!_' say we,--

White, yaller, black, an' brown, John:

Now which is your idee?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

John preaches wal,' sez he;

'But, sermon thru, an' come to _du_,

Why, there's the old J.B.

A-crowdin' you an' me!'

 

Shall it be love, or hate, John?

It's you thet's to decide; 110

Ain't _your_ bonds held by Fate, John,

Like all the world's beside?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess

Wise men forgive,' sez he,

'But not forgit; an' some time yit

Thet truth may strike J.B.,

Ez wal ez you an' me!'

 

God means to make this land, John,

Clear thru, from sea to sea,

Believe an' understand, John, 120

The _wuth_ o' bein' free.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess,

God's price is high,' sez he;

'But nothin' else than wut He sells

Wears long, an' thet J.B.

May larn, like you an' me!'

 

 

 

No. III