THE FUGUTIVE IN MONTREAL

Come all my brethren, now draw near;
I have a tale to tell to you;
I have escaped the Auctioneers,
Though hard the blood-hounds did pursue.
Far in the south I was a slave
Where sugar-cane, and cotton grows;
My Master was a cruel knave,
As every body may suppose
   My old master don't like me ;
   I begged him so to set me free--
 He swore before he'd let me go
 He'd feed me to the clarion crow.

One day as I was grinding cane,
My Master passed me too, and fro;
Says I what can old master mean?
It's nothing good for me I know.
I caught his eye--he dropped his head,
And stuck his cigar in his mouth.
Ha! Ha! says I. Old master Ned;
You're going to sell me farther south!
   My old master don't like me.

I Heard old master plainly say
"Well mother I have sold old Sam;
He leaves about the break of day--
I've got one thousand in my hand."
Thinks I, this is my only chance,
For life and death are now at stake;
I gathered up my coat, and pants,
And for the North I made a break.
   My old master don't like me.

It was dark, and dreary night,
'Bout one o'clock, when all was still;
No stars, nor moon to give me light;
And nought to be heard but the whipporwill.
I wandered not to the left nor right,
(Though hard it was to find the way)
And just six weeks from the dark night
I landed safe in Canada.
   My old master don't like me.

I have a wife, I know not where;
(At least sometimes I call her mine)
When last I saw her countenance fair,
She was on her way to Caroline.
I have a son both young and brave,
Who broke the ice some time ago,
And now with me (though not a slave)
He's safe beneath the LION'S paw
   My old master don't like me.

  *It is a mode of punishment in the south for certain offences, to hang the offender on a tree or bind him upon his back and let his carcass hung or lie, until the flesh is devoured by the carrion-crow. They commence their dissection at the eyes, which many times are both plucked out before the sufferer is dead.