An' thet it 's all to make 'em free thet we air pullin' trigger, Thet Anglo Saxondom's idee 's abreakin' 'em to pieces, An' thet idee 's thet every man doos jest wut he damn pleases; Ef I don't make his meanin' clear, perhaps in some respex I can, I know thet "every man" don't mean a nigger or a Mexican; An' there 's another thing I know, an' thet is, ef these creeturs, Thet stick an Anglosaxon mask onto State-prison feeturs, Should come to Jaalam Centre fer to argify an' spout on 't, The gals 'ould count the silver spoons the minnit they cleared out on 't. This goin' ware glory waits ye haint one agreeable feetur, An' ef it worn't fer wakin' snakes, I 'd home agin short meter; O, would n't I be off, quick time, ef 't worn't thet I wuz sartin They 'd let the daylight into me to pay me fer desartin! I don't approve o' tellin' tales, but jest to you I may state Our ossifers aint wut they wuz afore they left the Bay-state; Then it wuz "Mister Sawin, sir, you 're middlin' well now, be ye? Step up an' take a nipper, sir; I 'm dreffle glad to see ye;" But now it 's "Ware 's my eppylet? here, Sawin, step an' fetch it! An' mind your eye, be thund'rin' spry, or, damn ye, you shall ketch it!" Wal, ez the Doctor sez, some pork will bile so, but by mighty, Ef I hed some on 'em to hum, I 'd give 'em linkum vity, I 'd play the rogue's march on their hides an' other music follerin'---- But I must close my letter here, for one on 'em 's ahollerin', These Anglosaxon ossifers,--wal, taint no use ajawin', I 'm safe enlisted fer the war, Yourn, BIRDOFREDOM SAWIN.