Den de Lawd He say in de Gyardin uv Eden,
('Way down yonner)
"No sech a man shell do my weedin',"
('Way down yonner)
So fo'th f'um de Gyardin de Lawd He bid him,
An' o' co'se Mis' Eve she up an' went wid him,
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.
Oh, sinner, is you in de Gyardin uv Eden?
('Way down yonner)
Is you on dem sinful apples feedin'?
('Way down yonner)
Come out, oh, sinner, befo' youse driven,
De debil gwine git you ef you goes on livin'
'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow!
A NIGHT IN A ROCKING-CHAIR
BY KATE FIELD
It may be true that America is going to perdition; that all Americans
are rascals; that there are no American gentlemen; that culture,
refinement, and social manners can only be found in the Old World: but
if it be true, what an extraordinary anomaly it is that women, old and
young, ugly and handsome, can travel alone from one end of this great
country to the other, receiving only such attention as is acceptable.
Having journeyed up and down the land to the extent of twenty thousand
miles, I am persuaded that a woman can go anywhere and do anything,
provided she conducts herself properly. Of course it would be absurd to
deny that it is not infinitely more agreeable to be accompanied by the
"tyrant" called "man"; but when there is no tyrant to come to lovely
woman's rescue, it is astonishing how well lovely woman can rescue
herself, if she exerts the brain and muscle, given her thousands of
years ago, and not entirely annihilated by long disuse.
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