Dialect Recitations -by- ' 'viuliam g. wilson" knoxville collega press knoxville. tenn. 19 13 Copyright, 1913, by W. G> Wilson INDEX Pa^e WHEN OLE AUNT DICEY SHOUTS - - I DE MULE, A LECTURE - 3 SUJSTDAY 'LIGION 4 YOU'LL GIT DAR ARFTER WHILE - - 6 HOW UNK CANNON CURED DE CRACK - 7 AN EXCITING EXPERIENCE - - 12 SHOW YOUR 'LIGION BY YOUR WORK 15 SOMEWHAR - - - - 17 PAPPY'S LI'L' MAN - 18 UNCLE RASTUS' LECTURE ON WOMAN - 19 DE TRACTABLE MEETIN' - - - 21 WHEN MUDDER TUCKED DE KIVER ROUN! 23 SOMBODY'LL KNOW ... - 24 UNCLE RASTUS' EXPLANATION - - 25 UNCLE RASTUS' MIDNIGHT VISIT TO THE -A'ATERMILION PATCH - - ■ 27 THE CALL OF HOME 29 When Ole Aunt Dicey Shouts When Ole Aunt Dicey Shot^s Ole Aunt Dicey Riley was De very Scratch at home, Her husban' an' her chillun foun' it out; But de 'Postle Peter his own self Could't look mo' like a saint Dan Ole Aunt Dicey when she 'gins ter shout. She's de mos' religious sistah dat Has evah jined our church, Or dat you evah seed or hyerd erbout, An' her 'ligion would be proper If she'd keep it to herself, An' not make sich a racket when she shout. But 'taint no use er talkin' or Of sayin' anything, An' dis heah fac' de parson soon foun' out; Didn' make no diffunce who was dar Or what was gwine on, Dat Ole Aunt Dicey Riley bleedz ter shout. She'd grab de Parson roun' de nake, An' lam him in de face, Den holler like a ostrich 'dout his bill, An' den she'd 'gin ter cotch her breff An' flatten out her mouf, An' squeal jes like a pig you's gwine ter kill. "Glory ter Gord an' Moses, an' De L,amb forebber mo', I was in de mud, but he done fotch me out; Shet up dat Bible, Parson, ca'se 2 When Ole Aunt Dicey Shouts I's got one in mah breas', An' thank de Lo'd Ole Dicey's gwine ter shout." She cotched Aunt Viney by de ha'r, (I can,t say dat 'twas false,) But ev'ry single piece of it corned out, An' Ole Aunt Viney sho was rank To lose her ha'r like dat, An' all bercause Aunt Dicey bleedz ter shout. She shouted down de middle aisle To whar Aunt Pinkie sot A reelin' an' a rockin' to an' fro, All dressed up in her pea-green silk, Wid powder on her face, Jes lookin' like she's ready for to g>> An' den she grabbed Aunt Pinkie's drest. An' tore de ruffle off, Den cut a double shuffle on de flo'; But Ole Aunt Pinkie, bless yo' soul, Jes reached out wid her fis' An' mashed Aunt Dicey's mouf for good an' sho. Aunt Dicej' nebber said a word, But dropped right on de flo', Till ole man Kiah helped her to a cheah, An' dar she sot, still as a mouse. An' folks bergin ter smile, Ca'se soon as Dicey stopped dey all could heah. Dey knowed she'd shout nex' meetin' day Kxceptin' she was dead, But for dis time dar wa'nt no sign of doubt De Mule, A Lecture 3 Dat Ole Aunt Pinkie's upper cut Done broke de 'ligious spell An' took erway Aunt Dicey's 'sire to shout. De Mule, A Lecture Sistahs, an' Brudders:—De subjec' dat we gwine ter tackle tonight am, de mule, one of de tnos' contrary varmunts on de face of de whole urth, an' a varmunt dat's been de cause of mo' backslidin' on de paht of church members dan any¬ thing else, 'scusin' of de chicken. Now, my belubbed frien's, in 'siderin' de character of de mule, we fus gwine ter 'quire into his 'dentity. Who am demule nohow? My frien's, dis am one of de onsplan- ified questions of history an' velocipy. We know dat he am not a billy goat, we know dat he am not a pole cat, an' we am berry certain dat he aint de debbil, but who de mule really am, we cant tell. We know dat he am a four cornered beas' wid foots in front an' foots behin', an' sometimes we think dat he's got foots all eroun' him. An' furdermo', we know for a sol¬ ium fac', dat if you tickle his behin' feets wid a straw, dar's liable to be a funel at yo' house de berry nex' day, an' 'twont be de mule's funel, nuther. Secon'ly, an' in the nex' . place, Whar am de mule gwine? Now, you done ax me sumfin sho nuff. If dar's anybody on de topside of dis heah urth who ebber foun' out whar de mule am boun, fer, we aint nebber hyerd fum him yit. Why you can't eben tell which way he am gwine, ca'se sometimes he goes forrids, an' sometimes he goes back'rds, an, den sometimes he wont go no way at all, but 4 Sunday 'Ligion jes Stan' still an' switch his tail till you'd think he dun took root in de groun'. How is you gwine ter tell anything erbout a varmunt like dat? You cant tell whether he's gwine anywhar or not. Iyas'ly, Whar did de mule come fum? My frien.s, de mule was ondoubtedly made by 'de Ole Scratch as a special stumbling block for members of de church; an' I want ter say right heah dat if dar's a man in dis congrega¬ tion who can drive dat ole mule I got at home, widout usin' words dat aint foun' in de Bible nor de dictionary, I would like ter see him arter dis meetin's over, an' have a li'l talk wid him. I want ter say, also, dat history hab failed ter give de mule de place he deserve in de 'litical quirations of man¬ kind, for he is cert'ny a terribul beas' an' when he is fully understooden, he will be 'sidered one of de mos' suffucious outlandish, an' suddocious varmunts dat's ever been brung- ed out. Sunday 'Ligion Brudders, an' belubbed sistahs, While we lusterate today. An' try ter 'splain 'bout Sunday 'ligion, Mahk de wurds we's gwine ter say: Dar am lots of Quishton people Claimin' dat dey's gwine ter Heben, Yit dese people got deligion Only one day out of seben. Dese de folks what have deir 'ligion Packed up wid deir Sunday clothes, Sunday 'Ligion 5 'N' how dey keeps befo' ole Satan Nobody in dis kingdom knows. Always fo'mos' at de meetin' Fus to sing and lead in pra'r. Knows de creed an' Ten Commandments Better'n anybody dar. Got so much o' dis talk deligion Dat (ley's filled up to de mouf, 'N' when de parson stahts ter preachin' You cant tell what de sermon's 'bout; Cant heah nothin' but deir shoutin', "Hallelujah," 'n' "Aintit so?" Till jou'd think dat dey'd been livin' Mighty close to Heben's do'. But you meet um Monday mo'nin', Watch deir actions an' deir deeds. Umph, dey am de meanest vilyuns Thew de week you ebber seed. I^aw, but Honey, bless ter goodness Don't you mind a thing dey say, Ca'se it's nothin' but ole Satan Make um talk an' do dat way. Gwine eroun' jes makin trouble. Talkin' an' er tellin' lies, Yit dey say dey got deir treasure 'Way up yonder in de skies. Sho's you bo'n dar'll be a rumpus One er dese yer lonesome days, 'Mong dese Jhypocrites an' vilyuns Wid deir 'culiar, 'ceitful ways. 6 You'll Git Dar Arfter While You'll Git Dar Arfter While Keep on strugglin' when de water gits deep, Keep on workin, when you want to go ter sleep, Keep on gwine if you have ter creeep, An' you'll git dar arfter while. Keep on so win' by de water side, Keep on tryin' de things you've tried; Keep on walkin', bime bye youc'n ride, An' you'll git dar arfter while. Keep on laughin' when de folks all frown, Keep on risin' when dey think you's down; Keep on movin' while de worl' goes roun'. An' you'll git dar arfter while. Keep on cyarin' all yo' troubles to de Lo'd, Keep on trustin' in de promises of God; Keep on hopin' though you's under de rod, An' you'll git dar arfter while. Keep on tnarchin' though you don't understan' Keep on feelin' fur de good Lo'd's han"; Keep on makin, fur de Promised L,an', An' you'll git dar arfter while. How Un\ Cannon Cured De Crack How Unk Cannon Cured De Crack 'Unk Jack an Ole Unk Cannon, As de story comes ter me, Done been de bestes, frien's fer many yeah, An' I spose dey would er staid so To de closin' of deir days' But fer dis little tale, which you shall heah. Hit seemed dat Ole Unk Jackson, Gwiue bar'foot in de fall, Done git a rnonst'ous crack berhine his heel, An' Cantion he say ter him once, "Why don, you cure dat foot?" "You don't know how much bettah it would feel. Unk Jack he only laff at him, An' say his heel all right. An' so, he say, he jes gwine let it lone, Ca'se if he try to cure it up He 'fraid he make it wuss, An' medicine mout agify de bone. But Cannon he say ter hissef, Dat one er dese yer nights He'd un'ertake to medicate dat crack, He thunk be knowed a cure for it, An' so he gwme ter try To heal it up in spite of.ole man Jack. An' so one night, 'fo' very long, Jack come ter Cannon's house, An' stretched out 'fo' de fiah fell ersleep, An' Cannon, thinks he ter hissef 8 How Uuk Cannon Cured *De Crack■ Dat dis heah was his chance, An' right up futn his cheah dat nigger leap. He went an' git some rosum dat He had up on de shelf, An' put it in de shovel, dat's a fac', An' when it 'gin ter bile an' pop He tuk de shovel up An' pou'ed it bilin' hot inter dat crack. You talk erbout yo' urthquakes An' yo' harrycanes an' sich, I wush you could er seed ole Uncle Jack, Ca'se a cyclome aint a cracklin' To de capers he cut up When dat dar bilin' rosum hit dat crack. For, b'ar in mine dat Jack was sleep, An' thinkin' of 'no ha'm, Jes feelin' lack a tiahd man should feel, When Cannon croped up whar he was An' nebber said a word, But pou'ed dat red hot rosum in his heel. Jack stuck dat so' heel in his mouf, Wid de tosum stewin' hot, An' den he roll an' tumble roun' de place; He nebber said a single word, Jes kick an hoi' his foot, An' pant jes lack a hoss dat's in a race. But when Unk Jack did git his breff, An' dat so' heel outn his mouf, You ort to heah dat nigger what he say, "Cannon, nigger, what you mean?"' How Uuk, Cannon Cured T)e Crack. " An' what I done ter you?" "Dat you done cotne an' treat me dis heah. way "You done gone an' took de ax, An' while I was ersleep Yon's-croped up heah an' chopped tny heel in two; I knowed you was a scound'el Ebber since de day you's bo'n, Yo' nappy headt d brack rapscalion you." Aunt Viney, who was dozin' dar, Was mite nigh scared ter death; She say she thought Unk Jack done cotch er fire, An* so she grabbed de bucket up An' soused de water on, An' den reached for de poker standin' by her. Den she say, "De name er sense, What's dat ail dis man?" Unk Cannon 'low, "He mus' done lose his wit; I put liT rosum in his heel To cur' dat great big crack, An' dat ar fool look like he'll have er fit." An' den Unk Jack got mad sho nuff He grabbed de iron pot Dat sot dar in de cornder by de bed, An' jumped at ole man Cannon, suh, Jes like a polar b'ar, An' stuck dat greasy pot on Cannon's head. Aunt Viney, den, run to de do' A whoopin' fer Mars Jake An' Cannon, he jes rassel wid dat pot; 10 Hotd Unk Cannon Cured De Crack An' when he got it ofn his head Jes 'so dat he can see, He clamped old Uncle JaclTright on de spot. I hab seed a heap er rumpuses, An' carryins on like dat, But nothin' like de time dey had dat night. Dey cotch one nuther by de nakes An' bof fell on de flo' An' den great Caesar's mus'rat, what a fight. Dey fout an' scratched, an' kicked an' r'ared, An' whooped an' hollered till Dey stroyed ev'y thing Aunt Viney had, An' den she got de kittle full Er water bilin' hot, An' 'clared she'd scall um bof, she was so mad. But Jack an' Cannon, bless yo' soul, Dey nebber check deir gait, Dey bof was bent an' 'termined still to fight, So ole Aunt Viney she bailed in, An' long 'fo' she was thew, Dem dar two niggers was a nachel sight Unk Jack, he had a big black eye, An' three front teeth knocked out, An' half his whiskers pulled out by de roots; His shirt was to'e to tatters, an' Aunt Viney she stood dar Er lammin' him wid one er Cannon's boots. She got de kittle, den, once mo' To finish up de fight Jet 'bout de time ole Marster hit de do' How Un\ Cannon Cured De Crack- / I An' when de do' flew open an' Mars Jake some tumblin' in, He fell, kerplunk, on Jack down on de flo\ An' den dat ole log cabin, which Ai-nt nebber been too strong, Hit 'gin ter give erway whar Master fell, An' down dey went, right threw de flo', De whole endurin' crowd, Jes like a bucket dropped down in er well. Now, Cannon, he had seben dogs What slept berneaf dat house, An' when dat crowd come fallin' thew de flo', Right dar an' den dey took er han', An, sich er nuther ti tie Ain' nobody ebber seed or hyerd befo, Unk Cannon, Jack an, ole Mars Jake, Aunt Viney an dem dogs Had one mo' mix up unnerneaf dat house. Till Cannon fin'ly beat um off, An' Mars Jake sneaked back home, Den eberything got still jes like a mouse, An' when de light was kindled up Dat cabin was a sight, De wustis to'e up place you ebber see, Fer evah single blessed thing Was standin' on its head, An' jes as caterwampus as could be. Hit took dem niggers half de night To fix up dat dar flo' An' straighten up dem things in dat ole shack, 12 An Exciting Experience- But atter while dey git um fixed An' Jack he hobbled home, An' dis is how Unk Cannon cured dat crack. An Exciting Experience Speaking about b'ars makes me 'member 'bout a b'ar hunt ine an' brudder Kiah had one time. You see Kiah, he co nes t.o my house wid a gun, an' sez he, "Rastus, let's go out an' kill a b'ar, I heah dar's plenty of um down in de swamp " "Well," sez I, "Kiah, I don't kheer if we do " An' sho ernuff, I got my guti, one of dese ole army muskets dat de yankees done lef heah when dey went thew arter de war, an' load.h,er up an' we started, but I kep' feelin' all de time jes like sumpin on-natural was gwint- ter happen. So.'way we went Brudder Ras an' Brudder Kiah, huntin' b'ars Well, we was gwine 011 argifyi::' 'bout de stracted meetin' dat Brudder Wash was cyarin' on at de church, de prospects of de craps an' sich lack, when all of a sudden I heah sumpin makin' a noise in de woods, an Kiah he whispers ter me, "Lo'd, Rastus, dar's a b'ar." An' bless yo' soul, honey, 'twant none o' dese yer li'l tinchy b'ars, nuther, 'twas a great big elephant bar. "Lo'd," sez he, "Rastjis, dar's a b'ar." "Well, Kiah, sez I" 'aint we huntin' fer b'ars?'' Dat'.s so,'" sez lie, "but den you knowhuutitt' fer a b'ar an' findin' a b'ar all at once is two diffunt things." Den Brudder Kiah jumped behin'a tree, but I clumbed up a small saplin'. Now, some how ernother dat b'ar took it inter his haid to go to de same tree dat Brudder I£iah was hidin' behin', and 'stead of him shootin' de varmunt, he jes dropped de An Exciting Experience 13 gun and took out thew de woods, an' de b'ar right, arter him same as any body else. Well, Kiah took down de hill tow'ds de creek, an' in de eou'se of de runnin' Brudder Kiah stumped his toe an' fell head ober heels into a patch of briers, an' befo' he could git up de b'ar done fall on top of him, kerblunk. Now, maybe you think you done hverd folks holler, but I tell you you jes ought to been dar an' hyerd dat nig¬ ger whoop when dat b'ar fell on top of him in dat brier patch. Of eou'se I was up in de tree, wushin'dat I was at home wukin' whar I would er been if it hadn' been for Kiah. Well, I thought dat varmunt done squash de life outn Kiah when he fell on him, but Brudder Kiah was game, I tell you. His ha'r was stan'in' straight up on his haid jes lack de quills on de back of one o' dese heah puck¬ er pines, an' he an' d^r b'ar clan'p one anudder, sah, an' sich anuder fight you ai.i' nebber seed in yo' life. Dey to'e up dat ar whole brier patch jes as completely as if a cyclome done been thew it. Heah dey went, over an' over, over an' over jes lack two 10m cats wid der tails tied togeth¬ er. An' 'cuss; I really didn' know dat Brudder Kiah lcnowed how to cuss lack dat. You know he's de head deacon of de St. Jericho church- Well, he cuss de b'ar an' call me, an' arter he foun' I wouldn' come, he let into cus- sin' me. But I^ah, honey, I didn' have no notion foolin' wid dat ar thing, ca'se I didn' want to go b'ar huntin' nohow. Well, Kiah cussed an' prayed an' hollered dar till he jes "larmed dat whole swamp, but de b'ar wa'nt sayin' a word, but jes scratchin' lack de woods afire. ^ Well arter while Kiah broke loose fum de b'ar, an' 14 An Exciting Experience started to run tovv'ds me hollerin "Shoo! him, Ras, shoot de b'ar." Now, you can take it fum me dat Brudder Kiah was s ho win' dat b'ar what foots was made f< >r. Well, soon as dey pass me I jumped outn de tree, grabbed my ole gun an' p'inted it at bofe of um, shet my eyes an' let her go. Well, sah, dat gun must have been ]■ aded at bofe en's, ca'se I went one way, her tongue./'' She had ter git up a big argification wid dat dar pizen snake, an' he out talk her, of cou'se, an' 'suaded her to eat de apple, den she went an' out talk Adam an' mike him eat it too-, an' den dey bof got turned out, Don' you see? J FJfTy: what am de natur' • of 'oman? We want to 'serve heah dat deir natur's am contrary lack de natur' of a mewel. When you want a mewel to go one way, dey will be sho' to go anudder; dat's jes de way wid 'oman, when you wants um ter do one thing, dey will be sho to do sum- De Tractable Meetin' 2f pih else, an' when you thinks yon know um, dats jts de time when yon don't know nuthin 'tall 'bout um. So you see, brudderin, dat arfter all dats been sed an' writ 'bout 'oman, dar am berry little we know 'bout her: darfo' we will leave her jes lack we foun' her—a stubbo'n, zumptacious, unmanageable mystery, to be splored out by de futur' generations. De Tractable Meetin' I had de bigges' lot of fun Down at de church las' night Dat anybody ever hyerd erbout: I cotched a jar of bummel bees An' took it to de church An' opened it an' turned all tin um out. Unk Gabel, he was preachin' 'bout Ole Dan'el an' de lions, An' splainin' how dem lions couldn' bite, An' ole Aunt Sue was shoutin', "Halle- L/uyah to de Lam', Dis chile done washed her robe an' made it white.'' Den three of dem dar bummel bees Croped up Unk Gabel's leg An' stahted into business right erway; Unk Gabe jumped straight up in de a'r, An' knocked de pulpit down, 'N' I wush you could er hyerd him what he say Den sevul mo' of dem dar things De Tractable Meetin' Crawled to de anxious seat, An' got ermong dem moanahs kneelin' dar, An' tho dese bees wa'nt in de game- Didn' know de sinnahs' min' Dey cert'ny brung de answer to deir pra'r; For one done pray, "L,c'd he'p me.up, An' let nie cry erloud, An' letole Satan's chains be took erway," An' when detn mad ole bummel bees Crawled up to whar he sot He sho' did think de I,o'd done heah him pray. Hit 'peared like fiah, roastin' hot, An' mixed wid cyarpet tacks, Dotie somehow nuther got berneath dat seat; An' while he's callin' on deL,o'd, Dese big black bummel bees Done give him strength to rise ap on his feet. For two of dem was under him, An' one crawled down his back, Another one was creepin' up his shoe; "Dar now," he said, an' 'gin ter shout An' dance erbout de place, "Dem things done hep dis nigger to come thew". An' den fum evah whicher way, All ober dat dar church De groans an' halleluyahs rent de a'r; For Quishton folks an' sinners, too Was fightin' bummel bees, An' wond'rin what on urth dey doin' dar. When Mudder Tucked De Kiver Rouri 23 An' den commenced a wile stampede Of every body dar, I nebber seed folks act like dat befo,' For every blessed one of um Was tryin' wid his might To see who'd be de fus to reach de do'. An' out dey went, head ober heels, As fas' as dey could go, A slappin' at dem bees for ev'y breath While I stood dar berhine a tree Tryin' ter hoi' my mouf Bercause I's 'bout ter laff myself ter death. When Mudder Tucked De Kiver Roun' Among de recollections dat I treasure in my h'art. An' dat I hope will always dar be founl, Is de face of my ole mudder bendin' o'er my trundle bed When at night she come ter tuck de kiver roun'. Oh, dat was long, long yeahs ergo, when I's a li'l' boy, Befo' I knowed what sin an' trouble war; Befo' I lef' de good ole home to trabble thew de worl'. When I felt myself secure wid mudder's cyar. When de night was dahk an' sto'my, an' de win' was howl- in' loud, An' de snow in great white flakes was driftin' down, It was den dat my ole mudder, thinkin' of her li'l' boy, Would come an' gently tuck de kiver roun'. An' den she'd kiss my for'ed, an' her fac she'd lay on mine An' say, "You go ter sleep, you li'l' clown, 24 Somebody'11 Know For mudder thought dat her liT boy was up heah in de col' An' so she come ter' tuck de' kiver roun'. Ah, many night I's waked fum sleep an' looked erbout to see De face of my ole mudder gazin' down, An' smilin'as she useter smile when I's her liT boy An' she would come ter tuck de kiver roun'. An' many night I's wushed dat she could stan' berside my bed; Could lay her han's upon my head once mo', To soothe my po' achin' h'art, an' kiss de tears erway, Den tuck de kiver roun' befo' she go. No diffunce what may come ter me, nor whar my feet may roam; I^ong as de silent yeahs shall rolleroun', De face of my ole mudder I shall nebber mo' fo' git, An' de way she always tucked de kiver roun'. Sombody'll Know It aint no use er feelin bad About what people say, For if dars 'ligion in de h'art 'Twill sho come out some way; An' if dar aint no 'ligion dar, As true as you am live Somebody's gwine ter fin' it out Dont kheer how you strive. Folks will fin' out whar you stan', An' what yo' 'ligions wuth, Uncle Rastus' Explanation So 'taint no use ter creep eroun' Er bo win' to de urth, You might as well ter walk up straight An' be jes what you am, Ca'se dey wont class you 'motig de goats If you's a sho nuff lam'. Uncle Rastus' Explanation I'm gwiue ter 'splain de reason 'bout De cullud people's ha'r, How de white folks, got de bes' An lef' de naps all dar. Dis is how it happened, so I heah de ole folks say; Why we's all got nappy ha'r Is jes as plain as day. Dey say when dey was 'vidin' up De feet, long time ergo, De cullud people got dar fust An' had de choice, you know; An' 'stead of pickin' out some foots Sorter in perpotion, De very bigges' dey could fin Was suited to deir notion. An' all of dem ar cullud folk* Fum bigges down to liddle, Got great big foots wid jaybird heels. An' ankles in de middle. Uncle Rastus' Explanation But when dey 'gin ter think erbout De way dey done got beat; What fools dey was to go dar fust An' take de uglies' feet, Dem cullud people sho got mad. Dey grit deir teef, an' 'elar, Dat when dey 'vide up things ergin, Dey gwine ter have deir shar'; Dey'd show dem white folks, bless y<>' soul, How to stay beihine, An'wait till black folks git de wust, An' leave dem all define. Well, arter while de news got roun' Among de people dar, Dat on a certain day 'fo' long Dey gwine ter 'vide up ha'r. Dem cullud people winked deir eye, An' 'cide^ter play a trick; Dey'd^let de white folks go dar fust, An' let dem have de pick. An' so de black folks all stay back, An' let de whites go fus'; Dey took de straight ha'r, bless yo' soul, An' lef' de kinks fur us. Uncle Rattus' Midnight Visit to the Watermilion Patch 27 Uncle Rastus' Midnight Visit to the Watermilion Patch Talkin' erbout watermilions, 'mines me of sumpin dat happen to me las' summer You see, Massa John. he done had a watermilion patch down on de ribber dat would make any nigger's mouf water dat went by dar. Brudderin, 'tis de positive trufffur a fac', dar was watermilions in dat dar patch big as a flour barrel—great big striped fellahs, you know brudderin, knee high. An' den when you split one of um open, dar it was: jes as red inside, as a turkey's chin tassel. Umph! Hit jes fa'rly make me sick r.o think 'bout it. Now, brudderin, I 'mit dat in passin' by dar, I did borry one or two of dem milions, sorter 'casionally, so to speak, an' I also 'knowledge dat I went by dar in dc night; but dat was jes 'case I didn' wan' him ter say dat I picked his milions. So I went dar in de night, don' you see? Ofcou'se, brud ierin I had ter hab sumpin ter put de mil¬ ions in, an' so sometimes I cyard a bag, an' when I didn' feel like walkin' I tooked my cyart an' steers. Well one night, as I was gwine on ter say, I went by dar usu'l, an' done git my bag mos' full when who should come up but dat ar nas¬ ty stinkin, big ugly bull-dog o' Mars John's. Yes, sah, come walkin' up jes like somebody done sont fur him. Well now, brudderin, me an' dat ar dog nebber was good frien's in de day-time; ail' when we met under sich 'culiar circum¬ stances as dese yer, I jes knowed dar was gwine ter be trouble-knowed it. I can manage a dog fus' rate when dar's a big block tied to him, an' somebody is a lioldin' him; but meetin' a loos dog at midnight, 'mong a watermilion patch, whar dar aint' nobody but you and him, brudderin, dat am sumpin else. Well, sah, me an' dat dog stahted out o' dat dar water mil- 28 Uncle Rassus' Midnight Visit to the IVatermilion Patch ion patch, side an' side; if anything, I was a leedle bit ahead; but purty soon me an' him got tangled up, so much tangled up dat 'fo' we got ontangled, dat ar dog done chawed one o' my bigges' toes clean off, an' I think I chawed off one of hisn, too, but wether I swallowed it or not, brudderin, I doesn't know. Well, we fout an' scratched 'roun dar till we to'e up dat ar whole watermilion patch, an' nearly all of my clothes too. My hat was los', de mois' of my trouserloons was gone, an, a^ll of my shirt gone 'cept de collar-ban's an' de wris'-ban's, to say nothin' of de prints of dat ar nasty dog's teef an' toenails all ober my face an' body. But I hurt him right smartly too, case I done chawed off one of his toes, an'twisted off his tail 'bout dat short, (measuring off about an inch on the one of his fingers) I sho' wrunged his tail off, case I done seed him yistiddy, an' he didn' hab no sign o' tail. But don' nobody in dis worl' know how dat dbg tail come off but me an' him. Well, some how ernuther dat dog got loose fum me, an' my belubbed brudderin, you ot to seed a nigger run, an' I nebber stop runnin' till I git in my house an' lock de doah. Den I got a glass to sort o' 'zatnine myself, you know. Well sah, you nebber seed sich er lookin' nigger since you been bo'n; all scratched up fum head to foots, my foots all chawed up, an' one o' my toes chawed plum off. My bran new shirt gone, my straw hat dat I paid twenty- five cents in cash money fur, dat gone, my red bai anna hankercher, dat gone, an' what beat all, brvdderin, my watermilions gone, good as I lub watermilions. "What is I gwine ter do 'bout it ?" Well, I dess tell you what I's gwine ter do 'bout it: I's gwine ter keep ,way ium dar. I ain'eben gwine by dar no mo'; an' de liex' time I The Call of Home 29 leaves home an' tells my ole 'oman dat I am gwine ter pra'r ineetin. [ ain' gwine down on dat ribber, for sho as you am bo'n dar am a dog in dat dar watermilion patch, an' dis nigger knows it, be ain' no fool. The Call of Home* I been livin' in dat great big town Dat I heah um talk erbout, De place whar all de steamboats stop, An' de cyars go in an' out; Whar de Brooklyn Bridge stretch out his legs, An' de crowds go troopin, by; Whar de railroads run up in de a'r An' de buildin's reach de sky. But dar aint no place in dis whole worl', As fur as I can see, Jes lack de cabin way down Souf Dat once was home ter me. Whar de mockin bird wakes fum his sleep To sing his sweet love song; Whar de grass grows green, an' de pine trees sigh, An' de summer days am long. Den cyar me back befo' I die, To dat ole place once mo'; Jes let me see it one mo' time, Jes once befo' I go.