Page:Real Virginny melodist.pdf/22

 22 UNCLE NED. I once knew a nigger, his name was Uncle Ned, But he's gone dead long ago; He'd got no wool on the top of his head, In the place where the wool ought to grow. Hand up the shovel and the hoe, Lay down the fiddle and the bow; There's no more work for poor old Ned, He's gone where the good niggers go. His nails were as long as the cane in the brak He had no eyes for to see, He had no teeth to eat the oat cake, So he let the oat cake be. Hand up the shovel, &c. On a cold frosty morning this nigger he died In the church-yard he laid him low, And the niggers all said they were afraid His like they never should know. Hand up the shovel, &c.

GOING OBER DE MOUNTAIN. Way down in de Kentucky brake, De darkey libs, dey calls him Jake, He hab de woods all round him ringing, And dis am de tune dat he am singing, Ra, ra, my true lub, do come along my darlin Fare-you-well, Miss Dinah gal, For I'm gwine ober de mountain. Cum my lub, and go wid me, I'm gwine to leab dis counterie, A hoss and cart shall toat you roun', It walk up hill and foot it down.--Ra, ra, &c.