nd,
Go bend your knee, black people for to pray;
The shackle and the band has fell from the Bondsman's hand,
And that cruel, cruel slavery's pass'd away.

OLE SHADY.

THE SONG OF THE CONTRABAND.

Oh! yah! yah! darkies laugh wid me,
For de white folks say Ole Shady's free,
So don't you see dat de jubilee
Is a coming, coming,
Hail mighty day.

CHORUS.

Den away, away, for I can't wait any longer,
Hooray, hooray, I'm going home.
Den away, away, for I can't wait any longer,
Hooray, hooray, I'm going home.

Oh, Mass' got scared and so did his lady,
Dis chile breaks for Ole Uncle Aby,
_"Open de gates out here's Ole Shady a
coming, coming,"_
Hail mighty day.

_Chorus._

Good bye Mass' Jeff, good bye Mis'r Stephens,
'Scuse dis niggah for takin his leavins,
'Spect pretty soon you'll hear Uncle Abram's
coming, coming,
Hail mighty day.

_Chorus._

Good bye hard work wid never any pay,
Ise a gwine up North where the good folks say,
Dat white wheat bread and a dollar a day,
Are coming, coming,
Hail mighty day.

_Chorus._

Oh, I've got a wife, and I've got a baby,
Living up yonder in Lower _Canady_,[A]
Won't dey laugh when dey see Ole Shady
A coming, coming,
Hail mighty day.

_Chorus._

[Footnote A: _Canada._]

THE LITTLE LOG CABIN ON THE HILL.

SONG AND CHORUS

Words by ARTHUR W. FRENCH.

Music by HERBERT HERSEY.

Copyrighted, 1876, by JOHN P. PERRY & Co.

'Twas many years ago I left de sunny South, to roam
Up North, de happy day dat I was free;
From massa an' ole missus, too, and all de folks at home,
Whose faces now I neber more shall see;
I'se trabeled night and day to see de dear old place once more;
De cotton fields, de ribber, and de mill;
But most of all, where I was born, in happy days before,
In de little log cabin on de hill!

Oh, I remember ebry day, when all our work was o'er,
We'd hear de bones' and banjos' sweet refrain,
While all de darkies danc'd and swung around de cabin door;
Dem happy times will neber come again;
We'd hunt de possum and de coon until de mornin' fair,
An' laugh and shout, so gay and jolly still;
Such joyous, happy darkies, an' we had no tho't of care,
In de little log cabin on de hill!

Upon de ole plantation there is no one left I know;
De folks are wand'ring all so far away,
An' strangers meet me ebrywhere, yes, ebrywhere I go!
But round dis ole place Ise a-goin' to stay;
Dar's one spot left, they say,