Who Killed King Cotton?
– Unknown, 1868

“I,” said the Hub.”
“With my rub-a-dub,
And Ex’ter Hall Club,
I killed King Cotton.”

Who saw him die?
“I,” said H. Grerley,
With heart stiff and steely:
And I shouted freely,
As I saw him die.”
Who caught his blood?
“],” said the Martyr,”
“As I beld the platter,
And saw the brains splatter
I caught his blood !”

Who’ll make his shroud?
“T,” said the “Rump,
“With my little hump.
I’ll make the thread jump
As I make his shroud.”
Who’ll dig his grave?
“I,” said the nigger,
“I’ll be the grave-digger,
Though I pulled not a trigger;
I’ll dig his grave.”

Who’ll be the parson?
“I,” said Ward Beecher,
“Though the devil a teacher
Am I for a preacher
I’ll be the parson.”

Who’ll be the clerk?
“I,” said the Times,
“I’ll jingle the rhymes,
When the little bell’ chimes;
I’ll be the clerk.”

Who’ll carry him to the grave
“I,” said all Gotham,
“For Boston, Dod rot ’em,
Has knocked out the bottom;
I’ll carry him to the grave.”

Who’ll bear the torch?
“I,” said Wilkes Booth,
“Though the devil, in sooth,
And all hell rise up, both,
I’ll bear the torch.”

Who’ll be chief mourner?
“I, said the nation,
“For greenback inflation
And nigger taxation,
Make me chief mourner.”

Who’ll sing the song?
I,” said the noodle,
Who talk horse’ and ‘poodle,
And damn Yankee Doodle;
I’ll sing the song.”

Who’ll toll the bell?
“I,” said John Bull,
“For I pulled the ‘wool’
With my Ex’ter Hall school;
I’ll toll the bell.”

When you’ve got a hen
That a gold egg has laid,
Don’t kick up a rumpus
And cut off its head!”

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