>K^: 4 , . >■ -v^^- /><\> * ;» - ^ #%-;€S^v-/% O- ^> '";■ 'T:ss\.*^ ^^V ^ * ^^^^^^\0^\-0, V'^-^ .^^\..., iit de Marster's gwhie ter come back from 'broad. *' Vine olc phice ?" Ves, sail, 'tis so ; An mighty fine pco[)le my white folks war — Ihit von oiii;ht ter 'a' seen it years a<^o, When de Marster an' de Mistis lived n[) dyali ; When de ni<;;<»'ers 'd stan' all ronn' de do', Like grains o' corn on de cornhouse Ho'. I 2 ^.V(V./^ (,'.//.v;\v wrriTE folks, •' l.ivc nu>Jis'ons luj^li ' " N Cs. Maistcr, yes ; Cul'u' vM\iv>\al \\ iMMillv ihisli : l'\it an" til ink till vou v\MiKln' res*. Mv (v^lks \v;u'n' none o' vv»' po'-while-liash ; N\>t, sail, ilev was oh lui^h vU\i;roo — Pis lioah niggor au\ i|uality I ** Toll yv>u 'bout 'oni ?*' Wni imis* *a* hcarn 'InMit tuy v>lo while t\>lks. slu^' ! I loll yvnu suh, viev was gre't an' stern ; r>* ilidu' have nutiiu' at all lo leanx : IV Kuv^wevi all d;\r was u> knv^w ; (nU* v^bor de* head an* v>nvier doy feet : An* silbcr ! vU\v svnvovi *t like folks sows wheat ** rj>o tor ho rich ?'* Oat warn* do wuvi ! Jos' waUvWvod an' ix^U' in wx^alf. Why* iK>tte o' my while folks c\xr stirVi Tcr Ur A hau* for d self ; rxr/ r i/.i/w's wiiii'i: loi ks, 3 1 )(' niL;L;iMS nsi* tcM" W- slau'ln' inim' .Ics' \X s:iim* (V, loaves wlicii kXk^s Ins' lall down ; X^c sl;il)lc-sl;ills iij) IumIi ;il lioinc I ,(U)k(sl like ted in a lin(>-li)..f coin!) ; 1 )e lallle was pMi;«/ii)ns inns' (cII (\c lae' ! An" (le ho.-s nieeked de hill sides k...k like l.la. k An' de lloeks ol) sliei-p was so jmc'I an' w liilc l)ev 'iHMiisl like elonds K^\\ a moonshine iiii^liL An' wluMi niv »>le IMi.lis nse' lei walk - JiS (er hei^ kei i iilive (dal was Ini" v./. ever slur walked) 1 udl yon, sii-, Xkwx could alnios' In-ah her silk dres^; talk ; I lit nse' lei' .soim' like de inoinin' hrec/.i', When il wake.s an' iiislles de (hc'L ihtnsi; ( it'OS. An' de Marstei's lace ! ile Maislei's face, AVHieneviT de Mar.slei" i»ot lijdit pleas.ed— - \V\"11, I 'elar' lei ( lord, '(w»Mild shine wid i;iae(^ I )e same e/, lli^; eoiinlenanee had been i^reaseil. 1 )c cellar, loo, iiad ilc hcb' uh wine, 4 rXCLE U ABE'S WHITE FOLK'S. An' brandy, an' spcrrits ilat yo' could fine ; An' cv'vthino- in tlvah was stored, 'Skusin' do Glory of ^c J.ord ! "Warn' dyah a son ? " Yes, sah, yon knows lies de young Marster now ; l>ut we heah dat dey tooken he very elo'es Ter pav what ole Marster owe ; lie's done been gone ten year, 1 s'pose. But he's eoniin' back some day, of eo'sc ; An' my ole 'ooman is aluz pyard. An' meekin' de Hlue-Rooni baid ; An' ev'rv day dem sheets is ayard, An' will be till .s-//r\s- daid ; An' de styars she'll scour, An' dat room she'll ten*, Ev'v blessed day dat de T>orti (\.o sen' ! What say, Marster? Vo' say, you knows — ? He's young an' slender-like an' fvaii ; UNCiE c A HE'S wiirrK folks. 5 iJcUcr-lookin' 'n yoii, of co'sc ! Hi ! you's 1r; ? 'Fo' Gord, 'tis liim ! 'Tis dc very voice an' eyes an' liyah, An' nunif an' smile, on'y yo' ain' so slim — I wonder vvliah — vvhah's dc ulc 'ouman ? Now let my soul Depart in peace, For I beliol' Dy glory, Lord ! — I kncnvcd yon, chile — I knowed y^>ii soon's I see'd yonr face! Whar has you been dis blessed while ? Done come back an' buy de place ? Oh, bless de T>ord for all his grace ! De ravins shell hunger, an' sliell not lack De Marstcr, de young Marster's done come back ! NIGGER-TWIS'. Ruuir hard work wliilc it lasts — dat's so — Worruining 'backer all day long ; Miz'rv gils in ycr back, yon know, • Spcshly dcin what ain't so strong. l>at's my lix. Hnt it sccnis tcr nic Isc i^iid fnr it all when it comes ter dis : My long-stem pipe, little Jake on my knee, An' my jiocket chock fnll o' nigger-twis'. *' Corn-cob ?" Ves, sir. It ain't so iinc As tlat 'hogany-colored one o' yourn ; Hnt I gits as nuich ont o' dis o' mine As (\c fines' one you ever did own. AV6V/AA'-77/V.S". \)c juice all dries in (\c col), you s(»c — J ):iL's (Ic philos'pliy o' pipers like dis ; An' ;i reiul-rool slein is di; sU;n\ liir me, An' dc swedes' 'hackiM- is iiiiiner-lwis' Deni dar's (Mir'iis Ihinp^s, slio' 'inif — l)em lillle s])liiil(MS what li^lils jes' so; I lil (ley heads wliar (\c hox are roni;Ii A sort o' hard — an' away di^y i^o ! I never liki'd 'cmii. It, seems ter iiu* 1 )e devil's in 'em sonn; way. An' dis Is jes' as oood an' as line, you sec; — A retl-hot coal on de nii^j^ci' twis'. **\Vouldn' 1 like a ciu^ar ? " you say. Nc), sir, 1 Ihank you. Ise tricMl dcin dar Diff'rcnt, sir, as de ni^liL Irom day ; I"ur aj)art as a cuss an' [)ia'r ; XlCGER-r\VIS\ Hasn't no strcngtli, it seems tor mc : Can't begin to compar' wid dis ; Nothin' onder de sun can be Sweet as a cob an' some nigger-twis' No— dat niither ! Well, I'll declar' ! Dat is dc beatenes' Ise seed yet ! What is de name dat you call dat 'ar ? Say it again, please ? " Cigarette ?" Little Jake, what sets on my knee, 'Ud turn up his nose at a thing like dis Ise gwine ter teach him tcr do like mc. An' suck de comfort from niggcr-twis'. Yes, dat's a fac' ! 'Tis a lux'ry, sho', 'Hacker is, whatever you say. Seems like I never wants nothin' mo', 'Ceptin' ter set down here dis way, mGGER-'J'lVlS\ Take little Jake \\\) on my knee, Have me a corn-cob pipe like dis, Wid a stem as long as from you tcr me, An' a pocket cliock full o' niof^er-tvvis' KYARLINA JIM. {Fis/urmau^s Hut, C/wsapcake Bay, i^-jS.) When you wns here, some sixteen year Or so aback, you says, A darkey named Kyarlina Jim He fished f'om dis here place ? Dat yonder's him — Kyarlina Jim — On de bench dar by de do' ; lie have been ole an' weak an' bline Sence dat long time ago. Yes, dat's de way he spen's each day O' de blessed year, 'dout fail ; Wid face turned out'ards to'ds de Bay, Like watchin' fur a sail. KYARLINA JIM. Ebcn when clouds 'uU come in crowds, An' beatin' win's 'uU blow, He still keeps settin' pashunt dar In his ole place by de do'. An' de sweet sunlight, 'tis jes' like night Ter po' Kyarlina Jim ; He's weak an' bline, an' rain an' shine Is all de same ter him. Dat chile you see dar on his knee, She never fails ter come, About dis time o' ev'ry day, Ter fetch Kyarlina home. I seldom cries ; but when my eyes Lights on de chile an' Jim, Dar's sumpin' sort o' makes me feel Kind ter his gal an' him. 12 A'YARLIXA JIM. Another chile lie los', long while Ago, Ise hcerd him say, Is out dar waitin' in a boat. On de blue waves o' de Bay. I 'spec's, beca'se o' what he says, Dat chile he los' 'ull come 'Fo' long, jes' like dis here one does, An' fetch Kyarlina home. ''DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME." We doesn't live as oust we did : De grub's done struck a change ; An' when I mentions ash-cake now, My wife she thinks it strange. She's got sot-up dese Las' few years, An' wheat-bread's all de go ; But, someliow, seems I'd like ter tas'e Some ask-cake-pone onst mo'. De buttermilk has done give way Ter tea an' coffee now ; "An' possum-fat," she always says, " Is low-flung grub, nohow ! " ''DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME:' She doesn' ever foot it now, Like how slie used ter do ; But drives my yaller mule ter town, An' wushes he was two ! She hasn' had a liomespun coat For many a long day, But w'ars de fines' sort o' clo'es, Made jes' de white folks' way. She doesn' call me " Ichabod," Or '' Ich," or " Ole Fool," now ; An' cf I mentioned '' Anniky," 'T 'ud sartin raise a row. 'Tis "Mister Brown " an' ''Mistis Brown," Ontwel it seems ter me We's done gone changed our nat'rel selves F'om what we used ter be. '' DE OLE 'OMAN AN' ME:' 15 I know, beca'se as liow Ise tried An' never seed it gee, It's awful hard ter teach new tricks Ter ole dogs sich as me. Dat broad-clof coat she made me buy, It don't feel half so good As dat ole jeans I used ter w'ar A-cuttin' Marster's wood. An' beefsteak ain't for sich as me, Instid o' possum-fat ; An' " Mister Brown " ain't " Ichabod " — I can't git over dat ! So Mistis Brown may go ter town, A drivin' o' dat mule, Jes' when she likes ; but, sartin sho', / ain't gwi' play de fool ! l6 '^ DE OLE 'OMAN' AN' ME:' An' as fur her insist! n' how Dat I should try ter learn Dem A B C's de chillun reads — 'Tis no consarn o' her'n. I doesn' keer what grub she eats, Or what she calls herself, Or ef slie has a bofy now 'Slid o' a cubbud-shelf ; I doesn' keer how fine her clo'es, May be, or what's de style — I'm able fur ter pay fur dat. An' has been so some while. Dar's only one o' all her ways Gits over me fur sho' — I p'int'ly hones fur possum-fat An' ash-cake-pone onst mo' ZEKYL'S INFIDELITY. MiSTis, I r'al'y wish you'd hole A little conversation Wid my old Zekyl 'bout his soul. Dat nigger's sitiwation Is mons'us serious, 'deed 'n' 'tis, 'Skusin' he change dat co'se o' his. Dat evil sinner's sot he face Gin ev'y wud I know ; Br'er Gabrul say, he's fell from grace, An' Hell is got him sho'. He don' believe in sperits, 'Skusin' 'tis out a jug! 2 1 8 ZEA'VrS IXFIDELITY. Say 'tain' got no mo' merits Den a ole luilf-cured lug ; 'N' dat white cat I see right late, One evehn' nigh de grave-yard gate, Warn' nuttin' sep some ole cat whar ' Wuz sot on suppin' off old hyah. He 'oont allow a rooster, By crowin' in folks' do', Kin bring death dyah ; and useter Sav, he wish mine would crow. An' he even say, a hin mout try, Sep women-folks would git so spry. An' want to stick deeselves up den, An' try to crow over de men. Say 'tain' no good in preachin' ; Dat niggers is sich fools — Don' know no mo' 'bout teachin* 'X white folks does 'bout mules ; ZEKYVS INFIDELITY. 1 9 An' when br'cr Gabrul's hollered tell You nios' kin see right into Hell, An' rambled Scriptures fit to bus', Dat hard-mouf nigger's wus an' vvus. Say quality (dis is mainer 'N all Ise told you yit) — Says 'tain' no better 'n 'arf-strainer ; An' dat Jiis niaster'U git Good place in Heaven — po' white folks, mark ! — As y'all whar come right out de ark ; An' dat — now jes' heah dis ! — dat he, A po'-white-folks' nigger's good as me ! He's gwinc straight to de deble ! An' sarve him jes' right, too ! He's a outdacious rebel, Arter all Ise done do ! — Ise sweat an' arguified an' blowed Over dat black nio^grer mo' 20 ZEKYVS IN-PIDELITY. *N would 'a' teck a c'nal-boat load Over to Canyan sho' ! Ise tried refection — 'twarn' no whar ! Ise wrastled wid de Lord in pra'r ; Ise quoiled tell I wuz mos' daid ; Ise th'owcd dc spider at his haid — But he ole haid 'twuz so thick th'oo Hit bus' my skillit spang in two. You kin dye black hyah an' meek it light ; You kin tu'n de Ethiope's spots to white ; You mout grow two or three cubits bigger — But you carn't onchange a po'-white-folks* nigger. ^Vhen )'ou's dwellin' on golden harps an' chimes, A po'-white-folks' nigger's thinkin' 'bout coons ; An' when you's snifflin' de heaven'y blossoms, A po'-white-folks' nigger's studyin' 'bout possums. OLE LAUGHIN'. When I was a boy in Ferginycr, At de plantation down on de Jeems, Years aback 'fo' de war kim, an' freedom— What a long time ago it all seems! — My Marster he owned an ole nigger Dat de white folks, beca'se o' his mouf, Never called nothin' 'ccptin' "Ole Laughin',' Down dar in de Souf. He had de mos' cur'uses' notions 'Bout jokin' an' havin' o' fun ; An' dar wasn't no stoppin' dat darkey, Ef ever he onst had besfun. 22 OLE LAUGI//y\ Ise seed him like biistin' his weskit A-laiighin' at tiling's dat most folk — • Spite o' whatever funny /ic foun' dar — Never 'sidered a joke. He would laugh when his chillun was cryin', He would laugh when de cryin* was done ; Seems like cvvything struck him ridicTus Dat de Lord has made onder de sun ; An' whatever frolic dar happened 'Mongst de darkeys, ef Laughin' warn't dar Things mos'ly went on purty solemn — For dey missed him, I 'clar'. Ise seed folk whose laughin' was hurtin', Seemin' like it was scornfid some way ; But his'n warn't dat sort o' music — As dill'rent as nioht-time f'om dav. OLE LAUGiriX\ 23 When he opened deni jaw-bones o' his'n An' let it all out in one 10', Evvvbody wliat heerd him hiughed wid liini An' wanted some mo'. Laughin' seemed ter take life sort o' ciir'us, For I never did know him ter cry ; But sometimes Ise noticed a misty Sort o* sorrowful look in his ej'e. Ole jNIarster he said : *' A philos'pher Ole Laughin' is, sartin an' siio' ; He looks on de bright side o' all things, An' who can do mo' ? " When Marster got sick, an' deceasded, An' de coffin sot dar o\\ de groun By de grave, all de plantation darkeys Kim weepin' an' moanin' aroun' ; 24 OLE LAUGIIIN\ An' Laughin' was dar, but de devil, In spite o' de grief in his face, Seemed ter have a grip on him as usual, Eben dar at dat place — • For when, arter de words, " Dus* ter ashes ! " De Preacher stood silent in pra'r, Ole Laughin' he 'rupted de silence Wid his reg'lar music, I 'clar ' ! But he didn' live long arter Marster, An' he died wid a smile on his mouf : Dey bofe on 'em sleeps in Ferginyer, Down dar in de Souf. EBO. All o' dese here doin's Don't suit me ; Ise an ole-time nigger — Don't you see ? Dis here eddication's Humbug, sho' ; It's done played de devil Wid Ebo. Somewhar 'bout lars' summer, Dicey she Tuk 'n' struck a notion — Don't vou see ? 26 EBO. Says she : " Ise been thinkin'." An' I says : " What )YW done tluink, lioney ? Says slie : ''Yes, "Ise been thinkhi' mons'ous 'Bout Ebo ; He's fo'teen year ole now — Don't you know ? " S'l : "Ole 'oman, you is Right, I 'spec' ; Dar's fo'teen — he kim fus' — Dat's kerrec' ! " Savs she : " He's a-growin' Up a fool ; An' Ise gwhie ter sen' him Ter de school." EBO. 27 Bcin's how it looked like She was bent On de projick, Ebo Tnk 'n' went. An' sence dat lars' summer- Don't you see ? — Dat 'ar boy have p'int'ly Outdone me ! Whc-cw ! de norrations, Dcm o' liis'n ! Umph ! I 'busses laughin' Jes' ter lissen ! What you think dat Ebo Come tell me ? Dat all dis here y'arth here- Flat, you see — 28 EBO. Dat it's roiin', nn' rolls jes' Like a ball ! " Ebo, dat's a lie," I Says, '' dat's all ! ''Don't you sec yer Mammy, Evvy night, Set de water-piggin Out o' sight *' Ob you chillun, up dar On de shelf ?— Now, Mars' Spellin'-booker, 'Splain yerself — " Sunrise, dat 'ar water's I n dar still ; Ef de y'arth turned over, It 'ud spill ! " EBO, 29 But he keeps resistin' It arc so — Eddication's done gone Sp'ilt Ebo. He's forever tcllin' Some sich lie ; He's gwi' fine out better By-um-by. Ef Ebo keeps Tarnin* At dat school, Nex' thing, he'll be provin' Ise a fool ! I are p'int'ly gwine ter Take Ebo Way f'om dat ar school-'ouse, Sartin sho' ! DEPARTED LUCK. John, put one mo' stick on de liarf. Jes' one ? Well, lay it on ; An' den we'll freeze afo' we starve, beca'se de bread's all gone. My trem'lin' lini's won't hole out long ; an' what's de use ter pray ? Lord, pity dese po' niggers who has gin dere luck away ! You's been too sick ter do a bit o' work sence dat 'ar time I started down ter Denny's store, an' foun' dat silber dime DEPARTED LUCK. 3 I Jes' in dc turniii' o' dc road ; an', like a fool dat day, Instid o' kccpin' it, I tuk an' gin my luck away. John, don't you 'member, long ago, when little Bill was born. We worked down at de Edgeworth place, amongst ole Marster's corn ? De eatin's dat we used ter have, an' not a cent ter pay— Dat time when we was never 'feard ter give our luck away ? A little while aback, when you was layin' moanin' dar, I kep' a-thinkin' o' dem days, an' tried ter turn ter pra'r ; But, somehow, evvy bit o' pra'r dis w'ared-out mouf could say Was, '' Lord, for dat 'ar time, afo' I gin my luck away ! " 3- DEPARTED LCCA'. An' don it seeinod like, sho* onuf, it had come back oust mo' — Soeinod like I seed Miss Ellen dar, a-standin' in de do', Jes* like as how she used ter come each Chris'mus, wid a tray CV Chris'mus things, long, long afo' I gin my luck away. Seemed like I heerd de music dat de white folks always had Up at de Gre't House. Chris' nius-ti me, when cvvy soul was glad ; Seemed like a gre't big Iyer burned here on de harf, some way ; I thought we never had been po', an' gin our luck away. DEPARTED LUCK. 33 An you w^s scttin' over dar, :in' IViH was on de llo', A playin' like he used ter phiy in d;it long time ago; But den de cole gript on me, an' de dream it wud- den stay : We're weak an' starvin', John, beca'se I gin my luck away. But take it easy, John ! I know we never is gwi' see Sich days as dcm agin ; 'fo' long dey'U bury you an' me. Bread gone, de little stick burnt out ; de embers gittin' gray — Lord, fetch us whar we never mo' can give our luck away ! 3 KREE. Mv boy Kree ? He played wid you when you was a chile ? You an' he Growed up tcrgcther ? Wait ! Lemme see ! Closer ! so I can look in yer face ! — Mars' George's smile ! Lord love you, Marster ! Dar 'neaf dat cypress is wliar Kree lays. Sunburnt an' grown ! Mars' George, I shudden ha' knowed you, son, 'Count o' de beard dat yer face has on. But for dat ole-tinie smile o' vour'n — KKEE. 35 ** An' Kree ? " you say. Hadn't you lieerd, Marster, He 'ceasded de year dat you went away ? Kree an' you ! How de ole times comes back onst mo' — Moonlight fishin's, an' hyars in de sno'; Squirrels an' jaybirds up overliead, In de oak-trees dat de sun shined through ! — Look at me, Marster ! Here is me livin' ; an' Kree, he's dead. 'Pears tcr me strange Now, when I thinks on 'em, dose ole years: Mars' George, sometimes de b'ilin' tears Fills up my eyes, 'Count o' de mizery now, an' de change — De sun dims, Marster, Ter an ole man, when his one boy dies. B^ KREE, ] )i(l you say " How ? " Out in cic dug-out, one moonshine night, Fisliin' \vi(l your baby br(.)Llici- — lie Wid dc curls o' yallcr, like streaks o' light, An' (le dancin' big blue eyes. Dead, novv- Kree died for him ; An' yearnin' for Krce, ]^e Lord tuk him, INIarster : De green grass kivers 'em bofe f'oni sight. ITeerd o' de tale ? Didn' kno\y Krce was de one dat drowned Sayin' Mars' Charley ? Well, 'twere he. De bt)y waxed weaker, his face mo' pale, Arter de corpse o' poor Krce were found. Two months later he went, you see: God bless you, Marstcr ! Nine years has rolled over bofe onder ground. KRI'I'. 37 Woi'ii oil! .'Ill' .L;r:iy, Ilcrr I S(;(s wnilin', Mars' ( mm>i <',i', aloiu;. All on 'em's i^oiu* — Ma.rst(M- an' Mist is, an' Cliarlcy an' Ik*. ^^)^ an' inc ()iil\' is Id'. Some day, When yon's j^onc l):i(k lri- yci slii[) on dc sea, I'll \\c\\x him say, Jcs' as hc^ used (cr, a-fishin', Icr nio : *' I)a(l(ly, coiner over!" An' passin' away, Dat side do river, ai;ain I'll l)c VVid my boy Kree. "MINE OYSTER." No, it never did agree wid de likes o' dis here nig- ger, For de a'r is sort o' stiflin' twix' dese mountains, Eas' an' Wes' ; Evvy blessed year I lives here, seems dese hills is growin' bigger Ter de miz'ry in my knee-j'ints an' de trouble in my dies'. Ise a Tuckahoe Ferginyan f'om Tide-water of Fer- ginyer, Whar de oshters am delishus an' de fish is hard ter beat ; ''MINE oyster:' 39 Lord, I hasn' seed an oshter, in de time dat I has been here, Dat dis nigger have cornsidcred fittin' any ways ter eat. Dey fetches 'em in cans up, dese here railroad sojer- fellows, An' it takes a good day's workin' ter perkure an oshter-stew. Dese ain't nothin' but runt-oshters ; yet de reste- ranters tell us Dat dey come f'om Mobjack Bay, sir. Pshaw ! I know dat can't be true ! I lived down dar myself onst, an' I think I I'arnt de fashion O' dem oshters in dat water — shape, an' size, an' ta'se, an' all ; 40 ''MINE oyster:' Dis here darkey may be ign'ant, an' widout no ed- dication, But a Mobjack oshter p'int'ly is beknownst ter Uncle Saul. You may brag o' roasted possum an* de glories o' hog-killin', You can 'numerate de hom'ny, you can shout de ole ash-cake ; But one dish o' Mobjack oshters, an' ole Saul is p'int'ly willin' Ter denounce de other eatin's for de Mobjack oshters' sake ! Umph ! dis mouf o' mine jes' waters at de thought o' dem dar critters — Fried, an' baked, an' stewed, an' raw ones — how we 'stroyed 'em down dar ; ''MINE oyster:' 41 Soft as mush, an' f'arly better dan merlasses on yer fritters — But de glory am departed, an' dem oshters ain't novvhar ! I have trabbled through Ferginyer sence Mars' Linkum sont de freedom ; I have cotch 'em, an' I've eat 'em, Norf an' Souf an' Eas' an' Wes'. Oh, dey's prime at Glorster P'int ; dar it's mighty hard ter beat 'em ; But de oshters fo'm ole Mobjack am de sugares' an' bes'. It is seben year, an' ober, sence I 'zided in dat sec- tion, An' I'm 'feared dis hilly Valley 'ull lay on me when I die ; 42 ''MINE oyster:' But I holds de ole Tide-water in my warmes' ree- collection, An' I'd like ter slip down dar onst mo' an' make dem oshters fly. I would like ter eat dem oshters 'twel I perish jes' fom eat in' ; Dat's de kind o' death dat seems like it 'ud suit yer Uncle Saul. Yes, I'd ruther go dat way, sir, dan ter drap down dead in meetin' ; Fur ter die fom eatin' oshters is de sweetes' death o' all. POKE O' MOONSHINE. Moonshine ? Yes, sir, Right smart ahead ; Ten mile, at bes', sir. Git down an' res', sir, Outen de rain. Onder dat shed Is a good place ter tie him, Or Joe can stan' by him 'Twel you's ready ter set out again. " Know Poke o' Moonshine ? Yes, sir, I does. Marster, you won't fine Many o' h's kine 44 POKE O' MOOXSIIIXE. 'Roun' dis here way! — Much as he was Sence I remember ; Ole John's December Is haler dan mos' folkses' May. Moonshine ? Played out ! When dey was rich, 'Twas widout doubt De fines' about — Pictur's an' things. Flowers an' sich — All sorts o' doin's : Now it's in ruins — But dat's what war gen'ully brings. Moonshine 'bout den 'Longed ter Mars' Sidney. All o' de men O' dat family's been POKE O' MOONSHINE. 45 Purty g(JO(l <;rit — Folks o' fine kitlncy ; So, when do war kini, Nothiii' could licndcr him But what he mus' go inter it. John Poke, o' co'se, Went in dar, too ; Mis' Agnes stays Home, jes' beca'sc Winien can't b'ar What men goes through — Lovely an' young she were, When Mars' Sid went f'om her Ter be shot in dat turrible war. Home kim John Poke Wid de lad dead : '' In all de smoke An' de fightin' he spoke 46 POKE O' MOONSHINE.. Ter me only," says he, " An' here's what he said : * John, take good keer o' her — Guard de welfare o' her — Ef death comes betwix' her an' me.' " All dese here years John Poke have been True ter dem tears. Moonshine affairs Mars' Sid' lef bad ; John's been a frien' — So he has keered fur her. What he's liad, spared fur her, All fur de sake o' dat lad. Dat's a line hoss ! Lead him out, Joe ! Rain's over, boss ; Not much time los' FOK'K O' MOO\' SHINE. 4/ Stoppin' wid me — Gently, dar ! wlioii ! Marstci", in passiu' by On ycr way back, sir, I Hope you'll tell me how John Poke may be. Switch, sir ? I says You'll hardly fine Sich, nowadays ; 'Speslily (ley's skase 'Roun' dis here way, Men o' Jiis kinc. I'm dc man ortcr know Better dan mos' folks, she'. My daddy, sir ? Yes, sir. Good-day! THE LAMENT OF ORPHEUS. " Been travellin' ?" Don't you see I is ? ** Whar ter," hey ? Ole Green Su'phur : I tried it for my rheumatiz, An' never k no wed it rougher. I used ter go dar long ago, When I was young an' healthy : It ain't like what it was, you know% When Souvern folks was wealthy. Well, yes ; I s'pose as many now Goes dar, as used ter go dar: But seems like it have changed somehow — Sersi'ty's gittin' low dar. THE LAA'IENT OF ORPHEUS. 49 Isc knowcd do time do F. F. V.'s An' none else run it, honey : But things is changed ; an' so, you sees, All goes dat's got de money. When Marster sot out evvy June, Sometime about de middle, I always went ; an' many a chime Ise played dar on dis fiddle : But fiddlin' now is done gone out, An' brass ban's is de fasiiion. An' Garmins ; not a night widout De Garmin like de nation ! You never seen de Garmin, hey ? You orter seen it, honey ; Jes' take an' go down dar, some day ; It's p'int'ly wuth de money. 4 50 THE LAM EXT OF ORFHEUS. You never seed a monkey-show Could ever stan* a-showin' Ter one o dem things all ago, Wid all de ban' a-blo\vin". You knows de ole Ferginyer Reel, Whar two goes down de middle ? I never think o't 'daut I feel A hankerin' fur dis fiddle. Dat was a dance an F. F. V. M ought well be proud ter dance in ; But dis here Garmin — I can't see How white folks Stan's sich prancin' ! " How does dey dance de Garmin ? " Well, De ban' it 'gins ter sizzle ; An' den, befo' you's time ter tell, A fellow blows a whistle ; THE LA MR XT OF ORPHEUS. An' (Icn (\c ladies an' dc men Dey takes an' j^rabs eacli other, An' spins an' whirls an' spins agen- An' never lets iro. nuther! I know de white folks knows a heap, An' Isc jes' an olc nigger Wid brains 'bout big enough ter keep F'oni gittin' luirt — no bigger ; But, somehow, it do look ter me Like things had got alarmin', Ter sec an ole-time F. K. V. A-dancin' dis new Garmin. Well, sence my trip down dar I feel Like hangin' up dc fiddle. Dey's done forsook de fine olc reel, Wliar tw^o goes down de middle ; THE LA ME XT OF ORPIIKUS. An' olo-liino tV)lks an' olc-linu- clumcs Is wotcd nii<;lity slow dar — For nionkoy ban's an' whistlin' loons lias run scisi'ty low dar ! T.Oli-TV AND LOWT.V. \)k wliitc man's j^ot dc; 'vanta^-c ()' (\c ciillud pussoii, sarliii : Yoii's clone boon free L()niz;cr dan nic — An' dafs one tiling in sLailin'. You never worked terbarker, Hill Uik it out at college ; I never looks lntc;r dc books — Vou has nie on sich knowledi^'o I ain't got no high notions, Let 'lone de eddication ; 54 LOFTY AND LOWLY. Nor money 'twel You can't stan' still — As much as all creation ! My wife don't play de panny, Nor drive brash liosses, nuther ; Nor vv'ar fine clo'cs, Like she o' your's — Mine's some below dat, ruther ! But lissen at me, Marster : I knows all dese things fits you ; O' co'se, you ought Ter have dis sort — But dar's one place I gits you : I don't have harf de worry What troubles your life, honey ; LOFTY AND LOWLY. 55 De bank, you see, M ought bus' for me — /vvudden lose no money ! Ef all your books an' pictur's Was somehow ter git 'stroyed, Marster, I know Dat, sartin sho', You'd mourn for what you's 'joyed. You never is contented : You wants yer big pile bigger ; Ain't I kerrec', Den, when I 'spec' You's outdone by a nigger ? *'G()J) KNOWS." Ti:li, you ;i talc, v\\ ? Hlcss dc cliilluii ! It's been sicli a very loni;- lime ago Dal I don't know whether 1 ain't forgotten All o' tleni tales dal 1 used lev know. Vour daddy was always axin' fur 'em, When he was a ehaj\ jes' like you two. Ise tole him lots ; but I disremember — It's been st) k)nir — :ill ^Ic bes' 1 knew. *Twas a wile INhuch nionl', an' de win' was blowin' Blowin' oreat i;iuis, de sailors say; I^c water was loamin', an' all de rii^oin' Wropt ter de mas's, in de Chessypeake liay. ''COD KNOivsy 57 A wreck tiik pl:u;o nol liir f'oin Norfolk — A slooj) f'oin li(jston, :in' all lian's drowned ; l^^jur men an' a chile an' a yaller-liyared 'onian, J)(^se was d(j coipses de sho'-lolk lound. 'Twas clcjsc ter de Ian' wliar de vessel stranded, lint de waves was rnnnin' so orfnl hiu;^!) It was bonn' ter c(jnie — dar was no help fnr it — All o' dein people was marked ter die. One o' de papeis drifted inwards, What 'lom^ed ter de shjop ; an' dar on it J)e name o' de men an' de lonjj^-hyared 'oman Dat kiln i'oin Ijuston was plainly writ. Three o' dc men was dc Cap'en's saihjrs, De Cap'en's self was de tother one ; An' we jedged his wife was de white-faced 'oman, lint de name o' de little chile was gone. 58 ''GOD KNOWSy Do Kurrincr — him what sets on bodies — He copied inter his book all dose ; Den he axed me : " How shell I write dis baby ?" An' I answered de Kurriner : "Sir, God knows! So wlicn dey kim fur ter bury de bodies O' de lk)ston men by de Chessypeakc Bay, Dey put up a head-mark over each on 'em, Wid his name an' his death an' his drownin'-day. An' de yaller-hyared 'oman was buried wid 'em, An' her name an' her death an' her day was writ On de head-board plain ; but dat one over ])e chile — dar was nothin' ter put on it. But one what sot on de Kurriner's jury — A gray-head man wid a kinely eye — Sez : " Let it alone, an' I'll ten' ter it. An' write a name on it by an' by." ''GOD KNOlVSy 59 Bar's a marble sharf not fur f'om Norfolk, By de Bay down dar ; an' whoever goes Up de Shipwreck Road kin read de writin' Dat's writ up over dat chile : '' God knows ! " VIRGINIA CREEPERS. (iS6S.) Ole Mistis off en afo' she died — You know how she used ter set Out dar on de Gre't House porch, o' days ; I thhiks I sees her yet — Offen she said : *' Yous good enough — But Anniky's pizen mean ; An' dem chillun o' her'n an' yourn's de scruff O' de y'arth ! " Now, y'all done seen How. what she tole me is done come true : I always knowed it, and said so, too. What is dat sass you's up ter, now ? Wliat does you want ter know ? VIRGINIA CREEPERS. 6 1 Ef you says one word 'gin ole Mistis, boy, I'll smack you, sartin slio' ! ^' How come she go call you scruff ?" Jes dis : Y'all was dc lazics' crew Dat de Lord ever made, in doin' de work Dat she wanted you ter do ; « Ferginyer Creepers ! " she used ter say, When she seen you a-pokin' along all day. An' now sence de freedom come, it's wus' Dan ever it was afo' ; You stretches out dar in de sun, an' sleeps An' sleeps foreber mo'. Ef you's got a rag ter yer back, somehow You thinks dat dat's enough. An', boy, dat's de reason o' how come why Ole Mistis called you scruff. You lets me slave fur de grub you cat ; You sleeps, while I gethcrs de bread an' meat. 62 VIRGINIA CREEPERS. I'm gittin' w'ared out wid dis here thing O' t'ilin' fur all o' you ; Sometimes I wishes de ole slave ways Was back fur a week or two. " How come ? " Jes dis : ter make you work ! De niggers never did lay Out on a bench in de sunshine den, An' sun deyselves all day. '* Ferginyer Creepers " was bad, at fus' ; " Ferginyer Sleepers " is p'int'ly wus' 1 BEFORE THE PARTY. Yes, honey, you p'int'ly is piirty ; IIow long 'fo' dc ball gwi' begin ? " Some time yet ? " An' when you's all dancin', Can't yer olc Mammy come an' peep in ? Dat white silk, it sho'ly do suit you — An' dem vi'lets wropt inter yer hyar ; Mars' Ranny loves dem sort o' blossoms — I 'spec', Baby, dat's why dey's dar. Lord, chile ! you looks jes' like yer mother, When you turn yer head sideways, dat w\ay ; Has you been showed yerself ter Ole Marster ? You has, hey ? An' what did he say ? 64 BEFORE THE PARTY. " He never said nothin' — jes' only His mouf twitch like ketcliin' a cry ; An' lie kissed you, an' turn off an' lef you, Wid de water done come ter his eye ? " Yes, honey, you's Hke her ; dat's gospel ; An' I know^s, by de way dat he done, Dat you fotch lier up ter him adzactly, An' de ole times dat's over an' gone. She used ter w'ar vi'lets dat summer — He loved 'em, like Mars' Ranny do — Her fus' season at de Wiiite Suff'rer, When she was a young gal like you. I went wid her dar, dat 'ar season — Dey called her de Belle o' de Springs ; De young bucks run crazy about her — You never did see sich fool things ! BEFORE THE PARTY. 6$ But Marster was dar, de bes'-lookin' An' de smartes', I hearn 'em all say ; An' he owned a Jeems River plantation, An' so he jes' kerried dc day. She w'ared a white dress de fus' ebenin' She danced at de ball ; an' she hel' Some vi'lets like dem in her fingers — I 'members it all very well. I hasn't no doubt dat Ole Marster, When he seed you, he thought o' dat night ; An', mebbe, some other times, honey, When he 'membered her 'rayed out in white. Now I thinks, she was drest de same fashion At de weddin' at Springfield, you know ; Some vi'lets de onlies' color, An' her white silk mo' shiny dan snow ; 5 66 BEFORE THE PARTY, An', Baby, her fingers wropt over Fresh blossoms, fotch fom de ole place, Like deni ; an' white garmen's was on her, De las' time I looked at her face. It do make me feel sorter ole-like, Fur ter see you growed liansum an tall ; I hardly cornsidered it, honey, 'Tvvel you fixed up ter 'ten' yer fus' ball — 'Ca'se you's never seemed nothin' but Baby, An' it looks sich a short time ago : Yes, Mistis, I'm gwi' come an' see you. When you dances wid Mars' Ranny, sho'. AT WHITEHALL. {Precinct No. 32, Albemarle Coimty ; N'ove/nber, 1878.) " Ole ? " How ole does you have ter be ? Warn't dat Reuben I jes' now see Walk up an' put his paper in ? Don't you 'spec' Ise as ole as he ? Marster, you mus' be makin' fun ! Ain't got ter be but twenty-one ? I'm pas' two-hund'ed, as sho' as sin! Look at dat Reuben over dar ! Ain't no gray in his kinky hyar ; Now adzamine dis wool o' mine. My back's bent wid de rheumatiz ; Nothin' de martter at all wid his. 68 A 7' IVIIITl'.HAI.L. Marstor, sluV as (U* sun do sliine, Olc Jim's over two-liinurcd, sir. " Prove it ?" Well, sir, you keep de sco'- Keep it fyar, \\\\ I'll prcu'e il, slio' ! Ole Jim's over iwo-huiured year — My olc Marster, 1 buried him — Sixty-nine years dat counts fur Jim; Mistis was forty ; young- M;us' Joe He was ni^h about thirty-fo' — • I tuk 'n' buried bofe o' dem dar. ITovv many's dat, sir? Well, keep 'count- I'm gwine ter give you de 'zact amount. My ole 'oman was sixty-three — Gittin' on to'ds it, don't you see ? Over two-hund'cul, fyar an' squar* — Two o' de chill un Ise \s\\X. away — Over two-hund'ed now, you say ? Jes' you adzamine dat ar sco', Down on yer paper dar, oust mo' — Ai' wui ri'.nAi.i. 69 Over t,vv()-lnin(r(Ml, slio' :is sin ! 1 Icrt; is (h; vote, sii' ! l*iiL il in. '^.rvvcnly-ont; yc.'iis ! IIiii[)!i! vvliiil's diit ? llopci I may ii(;vi;i' cal j)()ssniii-l:il, Never lelcii ;Lsli-cake-[)()n(; no mo', Kl 1 ain'L over Lvvcj-liinurcd, slio' ! MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. (1867.) Ter be sho', dar's some holes in it- What o' dat ? Yes, it's greasy ; an' de ban's gone F'om de hat. Sun done tuk out all de color ; An' de rain's Done gone kivered it wid rusty Sort o' stains : But it suits me, an' I likes it. Caesar, dar, He's done mounted a new beaver 'Top his hyar. MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 7 1 Boy, I wudden trade my kiver, Nary pull, Not for twenty like dat 'ar one On your wool. Dar's a story 'tached ter dis 'un, Mistis said, 'Ca'se it onst 'longed ter a soljer Dat is dead. ** Who ? " Mars' Rodney, in de war-time, Went ter fight Wid dis hat on ; plumes swung f'om it Black as night. He were shot down dar by Richmun' In dis hat : See dis split here by de rim ? It Kim f'om dat ! Long years back, onst I was comin' Down dat lane — 72 MARS' RODxVEY'S HAT. Heish yer cussed jabberin', nigger ! — I was say'n' ? Yes, a-trabellin' f'oni de Quarters ; An' he stood By de big oalv at de cornder O' de wood. Don't you 'member dat young lady Used ter come, Reg'lar ev'ry summer, up liere F'om lier home, Visitin' o' young Miss NeUie ? Well, dat day She were wid him. As I pas', I Hear him say: " Yes, I love you ! " but I missed jes' What she said ; An' w^ien I looked back, dis hat were On her head ! Seems ter me you don't see ladies MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. 73 Like her now ; An' de men ain't fine as he was, I'll allow. 'Twas dc purtiest pictur' ever Struck my sight : His face drapped tcr her'n, turned up'ards, Tetched wid light. Young Mars' Rodney, two days arter, Went away. He were young, de war mos' over ; So, dat day, He 'peared keerless-like, an' happy Fur ter go — But he never kim back livin' Any mo'. She went, too, an' never is been Here sence den. 74 MARS' RODNEY'S HAT. I had tuk a notion she had Met her en', 'Twel ole Mis' sez : " She is livin' Sum'ers yet ; But I'm 'fear'd," sez she, " her brightes* Sun have set." So I jedge she ain't so happy, Jes' by dat. As dat mornin' when he kissed her 'Neaf dis hat. ANANIAS. He's a two-forty team, sir, on tellin' a lie, An' I'm sartin de devil 'uU get him bimeby ; I'll jes' mention you why : He's done been out here on dis Chessypeake Road, At work like a mule fur his clo'es an' his board — As dey tole me, dat knowed ; He stayed dar, I 'spec's, about half o' a year, An' de fus' thing I know he's a-comin' back here — Purty 'zumptious, yes, sir! 7^ ANANIAS. *' How come so ? " Jes' beca'se dat de nigger per- ten's Dat he's trabelled de woii', an' done been ter its en's ; But T has got some sense, An' I ain't gwine ter swallow dat tarbaby's lies : He needn' be flingin' his dus' in my eyes — I kin see when I tries! Ef you jes' hear his racket, f'om what he have tola, He's done made some twenty-odd sacksful o' gole, An' had it all stole ! -: An' he talks 'bout Kenturky, an' what he have seen How de bosses is one-twenty whar he has been. An de bluegrass all green. ANANIAS. 77 Circus-ridin', he says, is one thing he's been at ; An' his circus has Junybugs big as my hat. An' what gits over dat Is his ellyphant yarns, sir; an' den, tcr be sho', He's been huntin' o' krokydiles dar, sir, you l'^// in, /are mistaken, honey. 84 FESTINA LENTE. Isc 'vised you, time an' time ag'in, 'Bout rushin' 'roun' an' t'arin' ; De way you does, Joe, are a sin Ter set a preacher sw'arin' ! Dar ain't no sense in starin' 'roun* Ter see cf he's in sight, sir ; He's five mile off, I'll jes' be boun', An' sarves you 'zactly right, sir ! Not for ter know no mo' dan dat 'Bout handlin' o' gum triggers, An' let him go, slick as my hat — It's jes' like you young niggers. Now, lemme tell you onst ag'in : Don't do things in a skurry ; Ixcess o' zeal are boun' ter win, But not ixcess o' hurry. FESTINA LENTE. 85 So, Joe, ef ever you let's go Another Chris'mus dinner, I'll lay a liick'ry on you, Joe, As sho' as I'm a sinner ! JUCKS. Yonder he comes, jes' as peart : Dat's de way- He will be singin' an' whistlin' all day. Seems like he don't mind dem crutches no mo* Dan nothin' ; an' as for dat eye, ter be sho', He says he would ruther have two eyes dan one, But it's done been knocked out — an' what's done " How do he manage ter live ? " Well, you see, He han'les dc fiddle jes' like ABC. An' dance ! Lord, you jes' orter see what a huf Dat 'ar lame nigger slings, when he tries sho' cnuf ! JUCKS, %'] 'Cause, bein' as how he are crippled an' lame, White folks dey docsn' treat Jucks jes' de same As dem what has got all dey lim's safe an' soun'— Dem niggers what's able ter ten' ter de groun' ; Dey sorter feels sorry ter see him dat way, An' dey's always a-givin' him quarters ter play. — ■ He got busted up so a-nussin' a mill Dat Mars' Thomas run, over dar on de hill. You knows Mars' Tom's two little gals ? Well, one day — Dem chillun forever would ^it in Jucks' way — Well, dey was a-foolin' aroun' wid de 'sheen — 'Twas one o' dese here big steam saw-mills you's seen — 88 JUCKS. An' dey got ter come puUin' an' yerkin' de screws An' de thingumajigs dat a steam saw-mill use. Jucks, he cudden watch 'em an' do his work, too, So arter a while dey jes' pulled de wrong screw ; As soon as he seed 'em, Jucks tuk out an' run — But he knowed 'twas too late for ter men' what dey'd done, So he grabbed 'em an' chunked 'em out in de saw- dus', Way off ter one side : an' de 'sheen tuk 'n' bus' ! Dat's how come he walks wid dem crutches, an' why He can't see on one side, for lack o' an eye. ''He's a mighty fine fiddler," Mars' Thomas he say ; " An' he never shall want while I'm livin', no way ! " ASHCAKE. Well, yes, sir, dat am a comical name — It are so, for a fac' — But I knowed one, down in Ferginyer, Could 'a' toted dat on its back. " What was it ? " I'm gwine to tell you — 'Twas mons'us Ions; aofo : 'Twas "Aslicake," sah ; an' all on us Use' ter call 'im jes' " Ashcake," so. You see, sir, my ole Marster, he Was a pow'ful wealfy man, Wid mo' plantations dan hyahs on you haid- Gre't acres o' low-c:roun' Ian', 90 ASHCAKE. Jeems River bottoms, dat used ter stall A fo'-hoss plough, no time ; An' he'd knock you down ef you jes' had dyared Ter study 'bout guano 'n' lime. De corn used ter stan' in de row dat thick You jes' could follow de balk ; An' rank ! well, I 'clar' ter de king, Ise seed Five 'coons up a single stalk ! He owned mo' niggers 'n arr' a man About dyar, black an' bright ; He owned so many, b'fo' de Lord, He didn' know all by sight ! Well, sir, one evelin', long to'ds dusk, I seen de Marster stan' An' watch a yaller boy pass de gate Wid a ashcake in his han'. ASH CAKE, 91 He never had no mammy at all^ Leastways, she was dead by dat— An' de cook an' de hands about on de place Used ter see dat de boy kep' fat. Well, he trotted along down de parf dat night, An' de Marster he seen him go, An' hollered, " Say, boy-say, what's yer name ?' i^ A— ashcake, sir," says Joe. It 'peared ter tickle de Marster much. An' he called him up to de do'. '' Well, dat is a curisome name," says he ; " But I guess it suits you, sho'." *' Whose son are you ? " de Marster axed. '' Young Jane's," says Joe ; " she's daid." A sperrit cudden 'a growed mo' pale, An' " By Gord ! " I heerd him said. 92 ASHCAKE. He tuk de child 'long in de house, Jes' 'count o' dat ar whim ; An', dat-time-out, you never see Sich sto' as he sot by him. An' Ashcake swung his cradle, too, As clean as ever you see ; An' stuck as close ter ole Marster's heel As de shader sticks to de tree. *Twel one dark night, when de river was out, De Marstcr an' Ashcake Joe Was comin' home an' de skiff upsot. An' Marster 'd 'a' drownded, sho', Excusin' dat Ashcake cotch'd him hard An' gin him holt o' de boat. An' saved him so ; but 'twas mo'n a week B'fo' Jiis body corned afloat. ASH CAKE. 93 An' dc Marster he grieved so 'bouten dat thing, It warn' long, sah, befo' he died ; An' he's sleep, way down in Ferginyer, Not fur from young Ashcake's side. ICHABOD. All o' de glory's done departed — Tuk 'n' gone ! It p'intedly makes me right down-hearted, Sho's you're born. All on it comes o' dis books an' schoolin' De chilluns git ; I never ain't credit no sich foolin,' An' doesn't, yit. What say ? " De 'fects o* de eddication ? " I doesn' know Nothin' 'bout 'fects ; but dis nigger nation - Is sp'ilin', sho'. ICHABOD. 95 I doesn' anchor my ship ter Tarnin' What makes chaps say Things dat 'ud never be thunk by niggers Dat's done got gray. Dey doesn' believe one blessed cushtion Outside de books ; Jes' call up one an' 'scuss a subjec'. An' mark his looks. Ax ef he thinks dat de salt iipsotted Is sign o' grief ? Not one o' dese eddicated young uns Has sich belief. Ax ef he thinks dose dat inherit Up above Kin ever come back, ef dey wish, in sperit Ter dem dey love ? 9^ ICHABOD. Axef he thinks dat a rusty horseshoe Ovxr de do' 'UU keep de witch f om ridin' you nightmar' ? An' he'll say, "No!" Jes' 'quire, will you, ef de books tells him 'Bout de harnt-liglUs In de grave-yard, down by de bank o' de river, We sees at nights ? An' see ef de little nigger doesn' Up an' say, " De ph'los'phy 'splains dey's jack-my-lanterns, Cl'ar as day !" Dunno nothin' 'bout 'fects ; but sartin, Sho's you're born, Dar's too much books, an' too little grubbin' 'Moncrst de corn. I C II A BOD. 97 Yes, sir ! de glory's done uptwisted Flat o's back ! De new words don't suit de ole-time music, Dat's a fac' ! SIMEON, F'OM GEORGY. We had hauled in de corn f'om de corn-fiel' Two weeks 'fo' you kini along here, An' shocked it up dar in de barn-yard — ■ We shocks it up dar, ev'vy year : An' lars' night, We shucked it all out, purty near. I k no wed liow as you was a stranger, An' thought, perhaps, whar you was born, 'Mongst de cotton an' cane dt)wn in Georgy, Dat you'd never seed niggers shuck corn So I 'spicioned, ()' case, dat you'd want ter ha' gone. SIMEOAT, F'OM GEORGY. 99 An' I looked fur you all 'roun' de place here, Ter try fur ter git you ter ten' ; But you wasn' nowliar', an' I'm sorry Dat you missed de corn-shuckin', my frieii* : It was g'ran' ; Dar was music an' whiskey 'dout en'. Marster sets out de liquor-pervisions, Ev'vy corn-shuckin' time, in de fall — • Only jes' 'bout enough ter be jolly An' not ter make fools on us all : An' ole Lcm An' his fiddle, dey opens de ball. Lars' night, Lem was dar wid de fiddle, An' de fiddle it got up an' sung. I never knowcd Lem'el so lively, Nor seed sich a bow as he swung, Sence de days When me an' ole Lem'el was young. 100 SIMEON, F'OM GEORGY. An' dc niggers pitclicd inter de corn-pile An', I tell you, de shucks fa'rly Hew ; De pile o' shucked corn it growed bigger, An' was lovely an' yaller an' new : An sho'ly, I sartinly wished, Sim, for you. For de jug it kep* comin' dowm my way — Lem'el's Bill w^as a-passin' it 'roun' — An' de niggers was singin' like forty, Seemin' like dey was tryin' ter drown Lem's fiddle ; But Lem'el, he stuck ter his groun'. *Twel presen'ly, here comes a nigger — De blackes' dat ever I see — An' say a few words fus' ter Marster, Den steps up an' sets side o' me : Well, I never Seed a tarbaby shuck corn like he ! SIMEON; F'OM GEORGY. lOI He didn' talk none whilst he sot dar, But he leant hisself over dat corn An' he handled it right smartly pearter Dan Ise seed it did sence I was born : 'Twasn' long 'Fo' de mos' o' dat corn-pile was gone. An' Marster he kirn w^id de whiskey, An' hisself po'ed it out dar for hiai, An' 'couraged him smartly ; an' Lem'el Stopped fiddlin' a minnit, an' kirn — What's de martter ? Den 'twas jw/ at de corn-shuckin', Sim ? DISAPPOINTMENT. Hole de light yar ! De dogs done treed ! I knovved dey'd almos' co't him, De way dey barked. What's dat you seed ? Out on wliich lim' ? Yes, sir ; dat's him — We sartin slio' is got him ! Shet up dat howlin' ? Kick liim, Joe ! Dese dogs is p'int'ly eager ; Wait 'twel he gits down here below, Outer de groun', Den, I'll be boun', He'll whup 'em like a nigger ! DISAPPOINTMENT, IO3 Joseph, my son, gimme de light, An' you kin do de cuttin' ; /wudden git dat 'coon ter-night. Take holt de axe ; Six or eight cracks 'Ull fix de critter's mutton ! Jes' look-a-dar ! I nuver see 'Coon's eyes so much like fire. De way he's starin' down at me — Hole on dar, Joe, He's 'bout ter go ! No — he jes' crep' up higher. Here, Caesar — Nero — sick him ! sick Stan' back ! de tree's a-fallin' ! Now let de dogs git in dar, quick ! Ugh ! Shoo dar ! Scat ! Ole Toby's cat ! Jes' lissen at dat squallin' ! 104 DISAPPOINTMENT. I never see de beat o' chit In all my time o' seein' ! Folks what can't 'stinguish 'coon f om cat Better be sleep In bed, a heap, Dan up o' nights 'coon-treein'. ''TO YOU." Dar! thankee, Marster. Dat's enough. Don't git de ole man tight ! Lord ! see de sunshine comin' through! Airit it a purty sight ? Dis here is what de Cohees calls De ray-el Mount' in Jew — It looks almos' as ole as me : My Marster, here's ter you ! Ah-h ! dat 'ar licker fetches back De mem'bry o' de days When peach an' honey was de drink About yer father's place. io6 " TO Youy De sideboard sinned jes' like de moon, De punch-bowl like de sun : ' An' Marster an' de gentle-mens Dey stepped up, one by one. " Here's Apple Jack," ole Marster says, " Some sebenteen year ole ; An' dat peach-brandy are, I think, x\bout as good as gole ; In dat recanter over dar Is native Mount'in Jew." Den turns his back ; an' all fills up ; Den : '' My regards ter you ! " De guggle at dat 'canter-mouf — Lord, sakes ! Seems like I hears De glasses ring, de spoons ker-ling, Dis side o' all dese years ! ''TO you:' 107 Ah ! 'fo'-de-war is gone away, Jes' like yistiddy's sun : An' Marster an' dem gentle-mens Has stepped off, one by one. No, not no more, I thankee, sir ! Dat fur, I'm F. F. V.— Jes' one drink at a time, dem days, Was 'nuf for quality. Dey say dat age is mons'ous fine Upon de Mount'in Jew ; 'Twill keep an hour or so, I 'specs' Wid my regards ter you. SWEET HOME. Many long years I has spent here ; Now, dey says, I rnus' be leavin'. Well, I can't he'p grievin', Jes' beca'se Love an' sorrow dey bofe bine me Ter dis spot I leaves behine me, An' de happy days dat went here At dis olc home place. In my age I is departin', When my han' have los' its cunnin', Wid de ebenin' sun in My dim face. SWEET HOME. I Op Over dar, beyant dem beeches, Wliar de long-slant shadder reaches, Is de spot I leaves my heart in At de ole home place. My Marster an' my Mistis, My chillun an' my wife, sir — Lights o' my pas' life, sir — Dey all lays Dar beneaf dat groun' ; me only Lef behine, po', ole, an' lonely, /mus' leave now, while de rest is At dere ole home place. Oh, it hurts me, dis forsakin' O' de place whar I was born in, Whar fus' de light o' mornin' Tetched my face. SWEET HOME. I had hoped an' prayed 'dout ceasin' Dat I'd fine my en' in peace in Dis here house. My heart is breakin' Fur de ole home place. Lord o' Mussy, in Dy pity, When Death's shadders dey come o' me, An' de valley lays afo' me In a maze, Let it be dat I shell straightway Enter through de pearly gateway O' de sain's' eternal city F'om dis ole home place. LITTLE JACK. Yes, sah. 'Twas jes' 'bout sundown Dad went— two months ago ; I always used ter run down Dat time, bec'us', you know, I wudden like ter had him die, An' no one nigh. You see, we cudden git him Ter come 'way off dat Ian' — Said New House didn' fit him, No mo' dan new shoes ; an' Gord mout miss him at Jedgmen' day, Ef he moved 'way. 112 LITTLE JACK, ^* How ole ? " Ef wc all wondered How olc he was, he'd frown An' say he was "a hunderd — Ole Miss done sot it down, An' she could tell — 'twas fo' or five — Ef she was live." Well, when, as I was sayin', Dat night I come on down, I see he bench was layin' Flat-sided on dc groun' ; An' I kinder hurried to'ds de do' — Quick-like, you know. Inside I seen him layin' Back, quiet, on de bed ; An' I mecked out he was sayin' ! " Dat's what ole Marster said ; An' Marster, cert'n'y, he warn't wrong We'll meet 'fo' lontr." LITTLE JACK. II3 I axed how he was gettin'. " Nigh ter de furrow's een','' He said ; '' dis ebenin', settin' Outside de do', I seen De thirteen curlews come in line, An' knowed de sign. " You know, ole Marster tole me He'd come for me 'fo' long ; 'Fo' you was born, he sole me — But den he pined so strong He come right arter Little Jack, An' buyed him back. I went back ter de kerrige An' tuk dem reins ag'in. I druv him ter his marriage ; An', chile, it was a sin Ter see de high an' mighty way I looked dat day. 114 LITTLE JACK. " Dat coat had nary button 'Ceptin' it was ob gole ; My hat — but dat warn't nuttin' ! 'Twas noble ter behole De way dem bosses pawed de yar, Wid me up dyar. " But all's w'ared out befo' me ! — Marster, an' coat, an' all ; Me only lef — you know me ! — Cheat wheat's de lars' ter fall : De rank grain ben's wid its own weight, De light Stan's straight. " But heah ! Ole Marster's waitin* — * So I mus' tell you : raise De jice dyar ; 'neaf de platin', De sweat o' many days Is in dat stockin' — toil an' pain In sun an' rain. LITTLE JACK. II5 '' I worked ter save dem figgers Ter hwy you ; but de Lord He sot free all de niggers, Same as white-folks, 'fo' Gord ! Free as de crows ! Free as de stars ! Free as ole hyars ! " Now, chile, you teck dat money, Git on young Marster's track, An' pay it ter him, honey ; An' tell him Little Jack Worked forty year, dis Chris'mus come, Ter save dat sum ; *'An' dat 'twas for ole Marster, Ter buy your time f'om him ; But dat de war come farster, An' squandered stock an' lim' — Say you kin work an' don't need none. An' he carn't, son. Il6 LITTLE JACK. " He ain' been use ter diggin' His livin' out de dirt ; He carn't drink out a piggin, Like you ; an' it 'ud hurt Ole Marster's pride, an' make him sw'ar, In glory dar ! " Den all his strength seemed fallin' ; He shet his eyes awhile, An' den said : *' Heish ! he's callin' ! Dyar he ! Now watch him smile! Yes, suli — you niggers jes' stan' back ! Marster, here's Jack ! " MARSE PHIL. Yes, yes, you is Marse Phil's son ; you favor 'm mio^ht'lv, too. We wuz like brothers, we wuz, me an' him. You tried to foold' ole nigger, but, Marster, 'twouldn' do ; Not do — yo' is done growed so tall an' slim. Hi ! Lord ! Ise knowed yo', honey, sence long befo' yo' born — I mean, Ise knowed 6.Q family dat long ; An' dee's been white folks, Marster — dee ban's white ez young corn — An', ef dee want to, couldn' do no wrong. Il8 MARSE PHIL. You' gran'pa bought my mammy at Gen'l Nelson's sale, An' Deely she come. out de same estate ; An' blood is jes' like pra'r is^hit tain' gwine nuver fail ; Hit's sutney gwine to come out, soon or late. When I wuz born, yo' gran'pa gi' me to young Marse Phil, To be his body-servant — like, you know ; An' we growed up together like two stalks in a liill— Bofe tarslin' an' den shootin' in de row. Marse Phil wuz born in harves', an' I dat Christ-mas come ; My mammy nussed bofe on we de same time ; No matter what one got, suh, de oder gwine git some — We wuz two fibe-cent pieces in one dime. MARSE PHIL. 119 We cotch ole hyahs together, an' possums, him an' me ; We fished dat mill-pon' over, night an' day ; Rid horses to de water ; treed coons up de same tree ; An' when you see one, turr warn' fur away. When Marse Phil went to College, 'twuz " Sam — Sam's got to go." Ole Marster said, '' Dat boy's a fool'bout Sam." Ole Mistis jes' said, " Dear, Phil wants him, an', you know " Dat '^ Dear'' — hit used to soothe him like a lamb. So we all went to College — 'way down to Williams- burg — But 'twarn' much I'arnin' out o' books we got ; Dem urrs warn' no mo' to him 'n a ole wormy lug ; Yes, suh, we wuz de ve'y top de pot. I20 MARSE PHIL. An' ef he didn' study dem Latins an' sich things, He WLiz de popularetis all de while : De ladies use' to call him, De angel widout wings ; An' when he come, I lay dee use' to smile. Yo' see, he wuz ole Marster's only chile ; an' den, He had a body-servant — at he will ; An' wid dat big plantation, dee'd all like to be brides ; Dat is ef dee could have de groom, Marse Phil. *Twuz dyah he met young Mistis — she wuz yo' ma, of co'se ! I disremembers now what mont' it wuz. One night, he comes, an' seys he, '' Sam, I needs new clo'es ;" An' seys I, " Marse Phil, yes, suh, so yo' does." MARSE PHIL. 121 Well, siih, he made de tailor meek ev'y thing bran' new ; He wouldn' w'ar one stitch he had on ban' — Jes' throwed 'em in de chip box, an' seys, ''Sam, dem's fur you." Marse Phil, I tell yo', wuz a gentleman. So Marse Phil co'tes de Mistis, an' Sam he co'tes de maid — We always sot our traps upon one parf ; An' when we tole ole Marster we bofe wuz gwine, he seyd, " All right, we'll have to kill de fatted calf." An' dat wuz what dee did, suh — de Prodigal wuz home ; Dee put de ring an' robe upon yo' ma. Den you wuz born, young Marster, an' den de storm hit come ; An' den de darkness settled from afar. 122 MARSE PHIL. De storm hit corned an' wrenchted de branches from de tree — De war — you' pa — he's sleep dyah on de hill ; An' do I know, young Marster, de war hit sot us free ? I seys, " Dat's so ; but tell me whar's Marse Phil ?" "A dollar !" — thankee, Marster, you sutney is his son ; You is his spitt an' image, I declar' ! What sey, young Marster ? Yes, sub, you sey, *' It's five — not one " — Yo' favors, honey, bofe yo' pa an' ma ! "HOME AGAIN." De place is changed sence de ole times — Dis place whar I was born, An' played, an' growed, an' lived, an' worked Amongst de yaller corn ; De cabin-flo' is t'ared up now, De chimbley's tumblm' down, An' I doesn't see de palin'-fence About de patch o' groun'. But de sunshine 'pears ter be as bright, An' de birds as full o' song. An' de bees as busy at dey work In de clover all day long. 124 ''HOME again:' So, spite o' de cabin's tuinblin' down, An' de ragged worrum fence, De ole-time scenes comes back ag'in — Ise missed 'em ev'ry sence. I kin see my wife dar by de do', Wid de baby on her knee ; An' de tother chillun playin' here, Whar de peach-tree used ter be. But she is sleepin' on de hill, Wid her baby on her breas' ; An' de tother chillun's out dar, too. All peacefully at res*. De little branch runs on de same As how it used ter run ; Ise crossed it often to'dcs de night, When arter my work was done ; ''HOME again:' 125 De Great House still is standin' dar, Jes' over de tother side ; But I hasn' been dar sence de day My blessed Mistis died. Ise wandered over de State, at large, A-doin' what I could ; Workin' de railroad, now an' den. An' sometimes cuttin' wood. It had been some years sence I was here ; So, passin' by to-day, I felt as how I mus' see de place, An' so kim by dis way. I'm sorry I kim : de ole glad days Comes back so fresh ter me, Dat it cuts my heart ter see de place Ain't what it used ter be. 126 ''HOME AGA/jV." I'll never hear as onst I heerd, In de happy times long gone, De darkeys singin' like dey sung, Amongst de yallcr corn. I'm goin' now. I ain't gwi' see De ole home place no mo' ; But I 'spec' I never shell forgit My wife dar by de do', Wid de little baby on her knee, An' de chillun here at play ; rir 'member de ole place like it was, When I am fur away. ONE MOURNER. {^For Irwin Russell, who died in N'ew Orleans in great destitu- tion^ on Christmas Eve, 1879.) Well, well, I declar' ! I is sorry. He's 'coasted, yo' say, Marse Joe ? — Dat gent'man down in New Orleans, Whar writ 'bout 'n niggers so, An' tole, in all dat poetry You read some time lars' year, 'Bout niggers, an' 'coons, an' 'possums, An' ole times, an' mules an' gear? 128 ONE MOURNER. Jes' name dat ag'in, seh, please, sell ; Destriciitioji' s de word yo' said ? Dat signifies he wuz mons'us/^', Yo' say — want meat an' bread ? Hit mout : I never knowed him Or hearn on him, 'sep' when you Read me dem valentines o' his'n ; But I lay you, dis, seh's, true — Dat he wuz a rael gent' man, Bright fire dat burns, not smokes ; An' ef he did die destricute, He warn't no po'-w^hite-folks. Dat gent'man knowed 'bout niggers. Heah me ! when niggers wuz Ez good ez white-folks mos', seh, I knows dat thing, I does. ONE MOURNER. 1 29 An' he couid 'a' tetched his hat, seh, To me jes' de same ez yoii ; An' folks gwine to see what a gent'man He wuz, an' I wuz, too. He couldn' 'a' talked so natchal 'Bout niggers in sorrow an' joy, Widdouten he had a black mammy To sing to him 'long ez a boy. An' I think, when he toie 'bout black-folks An' ole-times, an' all so sweet, Some nigh him mout 'a' acted de ravins An' gin him a mouf-ful to eat, An' not let him starve at Christmas, When things ain't sca'ce nowhar — Ef he hed been a dog, young Marster, I'd 'a feeded him den, I 'clar ' ! 9 I30 ONE MOURNER. But wait ! Maybe Gord, when thinkin' How po' he'd been himself, Cotch siglit dat gent'man scufflin', An' 'lowed fur to see What wcalf Hit moiit be de bes' to gin him, Ez a Cliristmas gif, yo' know ; So he jes' took him up to heaven, Whar lie earn' be po' no mo'. An' jes' call his name ag'in, seh. How ? — Irwin Russell — so ? I'se gwine fur to tell it to Nancy, So cf I'd furgit, she'd know. An' I hopes dey lay him to sleep, seh, Somewhar, whar de birds will sing About him de live-long day, seh, An' de llowers will bloom in Spring. ONE MOURNER, 13 1 An' I wish, young Marster, you'd meek out To write down to whar you said, An' sey, dyar's a nigger in Richmond Whar's sorry Marse Irwin's dead. ^<^ /«^ -HN^ i&^." <.!J^ ^V "^^ J^ \^^^ : '^^-"^ \ %^^^ /4# 0^\' ^ ?:^ o... o ■^sf^C '.