"He'll grow as gentle as a fawn --
As quiet as the blossoms
That beautify a land of lawn --
He'll eat no more opossums.
"The child I to myself will take
In a paternal manner;
And ah! he will not swallow snake
In future, or `goanna'.
"Will you reside with me, my dear?"
I asked in accents mellow --
The nigger grinned from ear to ear,
And said, "All right, old fellow!"
And so my Pete was taken home --
My pretty piccaninny!
And, not to speak of soap or comb,
His cleansing cost a guinea.
"But hang expenses!" I exclaimed,
"I'll give him education:
A `nig' is better when he's tamed,
Perhaps, than a Caucasian.
"Ethnologists are in the wrong
About our sable brothers;
And I intend to stop the song
Of Pickering and others."
Alas, I didn't do it though!
Old Pickering's conclusions
Were to the point, as issues show,
And mine were mere delusions.
My inky pet was clothed and fed
For months exceeding forty;
But to the end, it must be said,
His ways were very naughty.
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