THE FLIGHT OF DOODLES

I come from old Manassas with a pocket full of fun,
I killed forty Yankees with a single barrelled gun;
It don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Big Yankee, little Yankee, all run or die.

I saw all the Yankees at Bull Run;
They fought like the devil when the battle first begun:
But it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
They took to their heels, boys, and you ought to see 'em fly!

I saw Old Fuss-and-Feathers Scott, twenty miles away,
His horses stuck up their ears, and you ought to hear 'em neigh;
But it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Old Scott fled like the devil, boys; root hog or die.

I then saw a "Tiger" from the Old Crescent City;
He cut down the Yankees without any pity:
Oh! it don't make a diff-a-bitterence to neither you nor I,
We whipped the Yankee boys, and made the boobies cry.

I saw South Carolina, the first in the cause,
Shake the dirty Yankees till she broke all their jaws;
Oh! It don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
South Carolina give 'em ----, boys, root hog or die.

I saw old Virginia, standing firm and true,
She fought mighty hard to whip the dirty crew;
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Old Virginia's blood and thunder, boys; root hog or die.

I saw old Georgia, the next in the van,
She cut down the Yankees almost to a man;
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Georgia fought the fight, boys; root hog or die.

I saw Alabama in the midst of the storm;
She stood like a giant in the contest so warm:
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Alabama fought the Yankees, boys, till the last one did fly.

I saw Texas go in with a smile,
But, I tell you what it is, she made the Yankees bile:
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Texas is the devil, boys; root hog or die.

I saw North Carolina in the deepest of the battle;
She knocked down the Yankees and made their bones rattle:
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
North Carolina's got the grit, boys; root hog or die.

Old Florida came in with a terrible shout;
She frightened all the Yankees till their eyes stuck out:
Oh! it don't make a niff-a-stifference to neither you nor I,
Florida's death on Yankees, boys; root hog or die.



From "Poetry, Lyrical, Narrative, and Satirical, of the Civil War," edited by Richard Grant White. (N.Y., 1866).

I don't know why the Louisiana stanza has "diff-a-bitterence," but it don't make none.