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<title>Jonathan to John / words by Hosea Bigelow ; music composed by F. Boott ...: a machine readable transcription.</title>
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<amcolname>STERN COLLECTION OF LINCOLNIANA, Library of Congress
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<publicationstmt><p>Washington, DC, 2006.</p>
<p>Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.</p>
<p>For more information about this text and this American Memory collection, refer to accompanying matter.</p>
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<sourcecol>Rare Book & Special Collections Division, Library of Congress.</sourcecol>
<copyright>Public Domain</copyright>
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<editorialdecl><p>This transcription is intended to have an accuracy rate of 99.95 percent or greater and is not intended to reproduce the appearance of the original work. The accompanying images provide a facsimile of this work and represent the appearance of the original.</p>
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<p>Jonathan to John.</p>

<p>It don&apos;t seem hardly fair, John, <lb>
When both my hands was full, <lb>
To stump me to a fight, John, <lb>
Your cousin, tu, John Bull! <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess <lb>
We know it now,&rdquo; sez he, <lb>
&ldquo;The lion&apos;s paw is all the law, <lb>
Accordin&apos; to J. B., <lb>
Thet&apos;s fit for you an&apos; me!&rdquo;</p>

<p>Chorus: <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess <lb>
We know it now,&rdquo; sez he <lb>
&ldquo;The lions paw is all the law, <lb>
Accordin&apos; to J. B., <lb>
Thet&apos;s fit for you an&apos; me!&rdquo;</p>

<p>Who made the law thet hurts, John, <lb>
Heads I win, ditto, tails? <lb>
&ldquo;J. B.&rdquo; was on his shirts, John, <lb>
Onless my memory fails. <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess, <lb>
(I&apos;m good at thet,) sez he, <lb>
&ldquo;Thet sauce for goose ain&apos;t jest the juice <lb>
For ganders with J. B. <lb>
No more than you or me!&rdquo;</p>

<p>We own the ocean, tu, John: <lb>
You mus&apos;n&apos;t  take it hard, <lb>
Ef we can&apos;t think with you, John, <lb>
It&apos;s just your own back-yard. <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess, <lb>
Ef thet&apos;s his claim,&rdquo; sez he, <lb>
The fencin&apos;-stuff&apos;ll cost enough <lb>
To bust up friend J. B., <lb>
Ez wal ez you an&apos; me!&rdquo;</p>

<p>We give the critters back, John, <lb>
Coz Abram thought &apos;t was right; <lb>
It warn&apos;t your bullyin&apos; clack, John, <lb>
Provokin&apos; us to fight. <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess <lb>
We&apos;ve a hard row,&rdquo; sez he, <lb>
&ldquo;To hoe jest now; but thet, somehow, <lb>
May heppen to J. B., <lb>
Ez wal ez you an&apos; me!&rdquo;</p>

<p>Shall it be love or hate, John? <lb>
It&apos;s you thet&apos;s to decide; <lb>
Ain&apos;t your bonds held by Fate, John, <lb>
Like all the world&apos;s beside? <lb>
Ole Uncle S. sez he, &ldquo;I guess <lb>
Wise men forgive,&rdquo; sez he <lb>
&ldquo;But not forget; an&apos; sometime yet <lb>
Thet truth may strike J. B., <lb>
Ez wal ez you an&apos; me!&rdquo;</p>


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