ire company sing as they dance.]

DOWN SOUTH ON THE RIO GRANDE

From way down south on the Rio Grande,
Roll on steers for the Post Oak Sand,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

You'd laugh fur to see that fellow a-straddle
Of a mustang mare on a raw-hide saddle,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

Rich as a king, and he wouldn't be bigger
Fur a pitchin' hoss and a lame old nigger,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

Ole Abe kep' gettin' bigger an' bigger,
'Til he bust hisself 'bout a lame old nigger,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

Old Jeff swears he'll sew him together
With powder and shot instead of leather,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

Kin cuss an' fight an' hold or free 'em,
But I know them mavericks when I see 'em,--
Way down south in Dixie, Oh, boys, Ho.

SILVER JACK[7]

I was on the drive in eighty
Working under Silver Jack,
Which the same is now in Jackson
And ain't soon expected back,
And there was a fellow 'mongst us
By the name of Robert Waite;
Kind of cute and smart and tonguey
Guess he was a graduate.

He could talk on any subject
From the Bible down to Hoyle,
And his words flowed out so easy,
Just as smooth and slick as oil,
He was what they call a skeptic,
And he loved to sit and weave
Hifalutin' words together
Tellin' what he didn't believe.

One day we all were sittin' round
Smokin' nigger head tobacco
And hearing Bob expound;
Hell, he said, was all a humbug,
And he made it plain as day
That the Bible was a fable;
And we lowed it looked that way.
Miracles and such like
Were too rank for him to stand,
And as for him they called the Savior
He was just a common man.

"You're a liar," someone shouted,
"And you've got to take it back."
Then everybody started,--
'Twas the words of Silver Jack.
And he cracked his fists together
And he stacked his duds and cried,
"'Twas in that thar religion
That my mother lived and died;
And though I haven't always
Used the Lord exactly right,
Yet when I hear a chump abuse him
He's got to eat his words or fight."

Now, this Bob he weren't no coward
And he answered bold and free:
"Stack your duds and cut your capers,
For there ain't no flies on me."
And they fit for forty minutes
And the crowd would whoop and cheer
When Jack spit up a tooth or two,
Or