"Come peace, I sposed thet folks 'ould like Their pol'tics done ag'in by proxy, Give their noo loves the bag an' strike A fresh trade with their reg'lar doxy; But the drag 's broke, now slavery 's gone, An' there 's gret resk they 'll blunder on, Ef they ain't stopped, to real Democ'cy. "We've gut an awful row to hoe In this 'ere job o' reconstructin'; Folks dunno skurce which way to go, Where th' ain't some boghole to be ducked in; But one thing 's clear; there _is_ a crack, Ef we pry hard, 'twixt white an' black, Where the old makebate can be tucked in. "No white man sets in airth's broad aisle Thet I ain't willin' t' own az brother, An' ef he 's heppened to strike ile, I dunno, fin'ly, but I 'd ruther; An' Paddies, long 'z they vote all right, Though they ain't jest a nat'ral white, I hold one on 'em good 'z another. "Wut _is_ there lef' I 'd like to know, Ef 't ain't the difference o' color, To keep up self-respec' an' show The human natur' of a fullah? Wut good in bein' white, onless It 's fixed by law, nut lef' to guess, Thet we are smarter an' they duller? "Ef we 're to hev our ekle rights, 'T wunt du to 'low no competition; Th' ole debt doo us for bein' whites Ain't safe onless we stop th' emission O' these noo notes, whose specie base Is human natur', 'thout no trace O' shape, nor color, nor condition. "So fur I 'd writ an' could n' jedge Aboard wut boat I 'd best take pessige, My brains all mincemeat, 'thout no edge Upon 'em more than tu a sessige, But now it seems ez though I see Sunthin' resemblin' an idee, Sence Johnson's speech an' veto message. "I like the speech best, I confess, The logic, preudence, an' good taste on 't, An' it 's so mad, I ruther guess There 's some dependence to be placed on 't; It 's narrer, but 'twixt you an' me, Out o' the allies o' J. D. A temp'ry party can be based on 't. "Jes' to hold on till Johnson's thru' An' dug his Presidential grave is, An' _then_!--who knows but we could slew The country roun' to put in ----? Wun't some folks rare up when we pull Out o' their eyes our Union wool An' larn 'em wut a p'lit'cle shave is! "O, did it seem 'z ef Providunce _Could_ ever send a second Tyler? To see the South all back to once, Reapin' the spiles o' the Freesiler, Is cute ez though an engineer Should claim th' old iron for his sheer Because 't wuz him that bust the biler!"