fourteenth edition,
He knows it takes some enterprise to run an oppersition;
Ourn’s the fust thru-by-daylight train, with all ou’doors for deepot;
Yourn goes so slow you’d think ‘twuz drawed by a las’ cent’ry
  teapot;—­ 170
Wal, I gut all on ’t paid in gold afore our State seceded,
An’ done wal, for Confed’rit bonds warn’t jest the cheese I needed: 
Nut but wut they’re ez good ez gold, but then it’s hard a-breakin’
  on ’em,
An’ ignorant folks is ollers sot an’ wun’t git used to takin’ on ’em;
They’re wuth ez much ez wut they wuz afore ole Mem’nger signed ’em,
An’ go off middlin’ wal for drinks, when ther’ ’s a knife behind ’em;
We du miss silver, jes’ fer thet an’ ridin’ in a bus,
Now we’ve shook off the desputs thet wuz suckin’ at our pus;
An’ it’s because the South’s so rich; ‘twuz nat’ral to expec’
Supplies o’ change wuz jes’ the things we shouldn’t recollec’; 180
We’d ough’ to ha’ thought aforehan’, though, o’ thet good rule o’
  Crockett’s,
For ’t ‘s tiresome cairin’ cotton-bales an’ niggers in your pockets,
Ner ‘tain’t quite hendy to pass off one o’ your six-foot Guineas
An’ git your halves an’ quarters back in gals an’ pickaninnies: 
Wal, ’tain’t quite all a feller’d ax, but then ther’s this to say,
It’s on’y jest among ourselves thet we expec’ to pay;
Our system would ha’ caird us thru in any Bible cent’ry,
‘fore this onscripterl plan come up o’ books by double entry;
We go the patriarkle here out o’ all sight an’ hearin’,
For Jacob warn’t a suckemstance to Jeff at financierin’; 190
He never’d thought o’ borryin’ from Esau like all nater
An’ then cornfiscatin’ all debts to sech a small pertater;
There’s p’litickle econ’my, now, combined ’ith morril beauty
Thet saycrifices privit eends (your in’my’s, tu) to dooty! 
Wy, Jeff ‘d ha’ gin him five an’ won his eye-teeth ’fore he knowed it,
An’, stid o’ wastin’ pottage, he’d ha’ eat it up an’ owed it. 
But I wuz goin’ on to say how I come here to dwall;—­
‘Nough said, thet, arter lookin’ roun’, I liked the place so wal,
Where niggers doos a double good, with us atop to stiddy ’em,
By bein’ proofs o’ prophecy an’ suckleatin’ medium, 200
Where a man’s sunthin’ coz he’s white, an’ whiskey’s cheap ez fleas,
An’ the financial pollercy jes’ sooted my idees,
Thet I friz down right where I wuz, merried the Widder Shennon,
(Her thirds wuz part in cotton-land, part in the curse o’ Canaan,)
An’ here I be ez lively ez a chipmunk on a wall,
With nothin’ to feel riled about much later ’n Eddam’s fall.

Ez fur ez human foresight goes, we made an even trade: 
She gut an overseer, an’ I a fem’ly ready-made,
The youngest on ’em ’s ‘mos’ growed up, rugged an’ spry ez weazles,
So ’s ‘t ther’ ‘s no resk o’ doctors’ bills fer hoopin’-cough an’ measles. 
Our farm’s at Turkey-Buzzard Roost, Little Big