DOFFING THE GREY.

409

Doffing the Grey.

BY LIEUTENANT FALLIGANT, SAVANNAH, GEO.

OFF with your grey suits, boys—

Off with your rebel gear

They smack too much of the cannon's peal,
The lightning flash of your deadly steel,
The terror of your spear.

Their color is like the smoke

That curled o'er your battle-line;

They call to mind the yell that woke,
When the dastard columns before you broke,
And their dead were your fatal sign.

Off with the starry wreath,

Ye who have led the van;

To you 'twas the pledge of glorious death,
When we followed you over the gory heath,
Where we whipped them man to man.

Down with the cross of stars

Too long hath it waved on high;

'Tis covered all over with battle-scars, But its gleam the Northern banner mars'Tis time to lay it by.

Down with the vows we've made,

Down with each memory-

Down with the thoughts of our noble dead-
Down to the dust where their forms are laid,
And down with Liberty!

Cutting off the Buttons.

Respectfully Dedicated to the Knights of the Shears.

"COME out that grey !" a Yankee cried;
"Excuse me," Johnny Reb replied,
"For I have nought to wear beside "—
And his jacket quickly buttons.

"That livery is disallowed,"

The Yankee lustily avowed,

But Johnny most profoundly bowed,
And fingered at his buttons.

Nonplussed, the Yankee shook his head,
And furious frowned, (discomfited,)
"If you won't doff that grey," he said,

"Why then, I'll take your buttons !"

The rarest fun that e'er was seen
On "Terra Firma," was, I ween,
When came the order startling-keen-
To cut off Rebel buttons.

Where'er a grey-back showed his face,
On the street or in the market-place,
A Yankee armed at once gave chase,
To cut off his brass buttons!

Poor Johnny Reb! what could he do
But tremble, and repentant view
The flashing shears and knife so new,
For cutting off his buttons?

CUTTING OFF THE BUTTONS.

And like a lamb to slaughter led,

At once he bowed his vanquished head, "Do as you will," he meekly said,

And-"farewell, my poor buttons !"

Alas! poor Johnny was forlorn
As Samson when his locks were shorn;
"I'll pin my jacket with a thorn,

Since I'm allowed no buttons!

"I've nary a red to buy a pin, Confederate scrip is not worth-tin, It is indeed a shameful sin

To rob me of my buttons!

"'Tis well 'tis summer time," groaned he, Else I might freeze and die, you see,

Bereft, I am, so suddenly

Of all my jacket buttons !"

"The game is up!" triumphant cried

411

His hostile foe. "Oh no, not yet!" a voice replied, "You surely never have denied

A lady, some brass buttons ?"

"Why never, no!" the gallant said, And paling white and blushing red, The hero of this valorous deed

Delivered up the buttons.

With a merry twinkle in her eye, The lady smiled and made reply"I thank your sir! most heartily

For these poor Rebel buttons!"

From her pocket out a twine she drew,
And strung them quickly in his view,
And round her neck the necklace threw-
And a tear dropped on the buttons.

"I love these relics, for they tell

How long our poor boys fought, and well-
The story makes my proud heart swell,
The story in these buttons!"

And galvanized they now appear,
Adorning many a shell-like ear,
Of certain girls who dare to wear

These precious, proscribed buttons.

A brooch their spotless collar pins,
Burnished, until like gold it shines,
You'll see them all along "the lines,"
The Rebel girls in buttons.

"Oppressed by might, and want and care,
Meekly subdued" the "men," we hear,
But bravely, and without a fear,

The women wear the buttons.

METROPOLITAN RECORD.

THE CONFEDERATE BILL.

413

The Confederate Bill.

BY MAJOR S. A. JONAS, LOUISIANA.

The following lines were found written on the back of a five hundred dollar Confederate note.

REPRESENTING nothing on God's earth now,
And naught in the water below it;

As a pledge of a nation that's dead and gone,
Keep it dear friend, and show it.

Show it to those who will lend an ear
To the tale this paper can tell,
Of liberty born, of the patriot's dream,
Of the storm-cradled nation that fell.

Too poor to possess the precious ores,
And too much of a stranger to borrow,
We issued to-day our promise to pay,
And hoped to redeem on to-morrow.

The days rolled on, and weeks became years,
But our coffers were empty still;
Coin was so rare that the treasury quaked
If a dollar should drop in the till.

But the faith that was in us was strong indeed,
And our poverty well discerned;

And these little checks represented the pay,
That our suffering volunteers earned.

Chief Engineer of General S. D. Lee's staff.