Long, long ago, we had wars in the land, And pillage and bloodshed on every hand; With knife and with arrow, with war-club and bow, We defended our country a long time ago. _Old Chief._ In love-making nonsense I never took part; Neither war-club nor squaw ever conquered my heart; I forcibly reaped, but I never would sow— _Owosco._ Yes, yes; but that happened a long time ago. _All._ Long, long ago, we had wonderful chiefs, Who gathered in scalp-locks as farmers do sheaves. Much rather they’d fight than a-courting they’d go— But that happened, thank goodness, a long time ago. _Old Chief._ Young men, in my day, courted war’s cutting claws, Nor wasted their time making love to the squaws; Such fooling as that in those days did not go— _Owosco._ Yes, yes; but that happened a long time ago. _All._ What wonders the men were a long time ago, How thankful we are that it now isn’t so! Every day for amusement a-killing they’d go, In the fearful, the awful, the long time ago. _Otsiketa._ Say, old fellow, you must have been a great chap beyond all our memories! _Owosco._ I say, old chap, where did you ever manage to store all your scalps? _Old Chief_ (_to Medicine Man_). What shall I say to these young men? They’re getting very inquisitive! _Medicine Man._ I should not answer them. The proper thing to do is to assume a dignified silence. _Both sing._ When we’re attacked at any point, Our knavery to hide, We get ourselves behind a wall Of silence dignified, A wall without a hole or chink, Behind it all is black as ink, Where we’re obscure from those who think Into our past to pry. When at our deeds they wish to peek, And interviewers mild and meek, Attempt to make this couple speak, They might as well not try. _Medicine Man._ I never eased a human ill, _Old Chief._ I never struck a blow; _Both._ The potency of club or pill We neither of us know. But when our youth would question us, We assume a lofty pride, And wrap us up in a solemn cloak Of silence dignified. _John Barr._