_Air--"Vive la Compagnie."_ I'll sing you a song of the South's sunny clime, Chivalrous C. S. A.! Which went to housekeeping once on a time; Bully for C. S. A.! Like heroes and princes they lived for a while, Chivalrous C. S. A.! And routed the Hessians in most gallant style; Bully for C. S. A.! CHORUS.--Chivalrous, chivalrous people are they! Chivalrous, chivalrous people are they! In C. S. A.! In C. S. A.! Aye, in chivalrous C. S. A.! They have a bold leader--Jeff. Davis his name-- Chivalrous C. S. A.! Good generals and soldiers, all anxious for fame; Bully for C. S. A.! At Manassas they met the North in its pride, Chivalrous C. S. A.! But they easily put McDowell aside; Bully for C. S. A.! CHORUS. Ministers to England and France, it appears, Have gone from the C. S. A.! Who've given the North many fleas in its ears, Bully for C. S. A.! Reminders are being to Washington sent, By the chivalrous C. S. A.! That'll force Uncle Abe full soon to repent, Bully for C. S. A.! CHORUS. Oh, they have the finest of musical ears, Chivalrous C. S. A.! Yankee Doodle's too vulgar for them, it appears; Bully for C. S. A.! The North may sing it and whistle it still, Miserable U. S. A.! Three cheers for the South!--now, boys, with a will! And groans for the U. S. A.! CHORUS. NORTH CAROLINA'S WAR SONG. _Air--"Annie Laurie."_ We leave our pleasant homesteads, We leave our smiling farms, At the first call of duty We rush at once to arms; We rush at once to arms, To guard our coasts we fly, For the land our mothers lived, on Bravely to bleed or die. Up, boys, and quit your pleasure, Up, men, and quit your toil! The invader's foot must never Be pressed upon our soil; Be pressed upon our soil, In which our fathers sleep; Their blessed graves our care, boys, Most sacredly must keep. 'Twas in our brave old State, men, That first of all was sung, The thrilling song of freedom That through the land hath rung; That through the land hath rung, And we'll sound its notes once more, Till our men and children shout From the mountain to the shore. Sweet eyes are filled with tears, men, Sweet tears of love and pride, As our wives and sweethearts bid us Go meet whate'er betide, Go meet whate'er betide, And God our guide shall be, As we drive the foe before us, And rush to victory. THE HOMESPUN DRESS. By CARRIE BELL SINCLAIR. _Air--"Bonnie Blue Flag."_