some detected
error, or some crying abuse.

One very odd and typical specimen of this was the "Confederate Mother
Goose;" only catch verses of which appeared in the "Southern Literary
Messenger," when under editorial charge of rare George Bagby. It was
born of accident; several officers sitting over their pipes, around
Bagby's editorial pine, scribbled in turn doggerel on some war subject.
So good were a few of these hits that they astonished their unambitious
authors, by appearance in the next issue of the magazine. As a record
of war-humor, a few of them may be of interest at this late day. This
one shows the great terror struck to the hearts of his enemies by the
war-gong of General Pope:

"Little Be-Pope, he came at a lope,
'Jackson, the Rebel,' to find him.
He found him at last, then ran very fast,
With his gallant invaders behind him!"

"Jackson's commissary" was a favorite butt for the shafts of rebel
humor. Another "Mother Goose" thus pictures him:

"John Pope came down to our town
And thought him wondrous wise;
He jumped into a 'skeeter swamp
And started writing lies.
But when he found his lies were out--
With all his might and main
He changed his base to another place,
And began to lie again!"

This verse on McClellan does not go to prove that the South respected
any less the humane warfare, or the tactical ability of him his
greatest opponents declared "the North's best general."

"Little McClellan sat eating a melon,
The Chickahominy by,
He stuck in his spade, then a long while delayed,
And cried 'What a brave general am I!'"

Or this, embalming the military cant of the day:

"Henceforth, when a fellow is kicked out of doors,
He need never resent the disgrace;
But exclaim, 'My dear sir, I'm eternally yours,
For assisting in changing my base!'"

Perhaps no pen, or no brush, in all the South limned with bolder stroke
the follies, or the foibles, of his own, than did that of Innes
Randolph, of Stuart's Engineer staff; later to win national fame by his
"Good Old Rebel" song. Squib, picture and poem filled Randolph's
letters, as brilliant flashes did his conversation. On Mr. Davis
proclaiming Thanksgiving Day, after the unfortunate Tennessee campaign,
Randolph versified the proclamation, section by section, as sample:

"For Bragg did well. Ah! who could tell
What merely human mind could au