•S 3525 A79 R3 1907 I " ( ( U-!i u,. ; '!■ m lliil li lil 1 lln iiiiOi't i i^r^ i-^ :i Class JES^^l^ Book .Al'^'Rx CopyrightN"_4l!/L_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSnv ■^>^^ Sabbtt ¥aot % Urnabmaa fubltslittts Qlnmpang 035 Iroaimag, Jli^m fnrlt i Two d'^'it ScC&i.ifW I AUG 8 ISO? Copyright 1907 BY BYRD MASON All rig his reserved Aa anmp altgljt «rngttttt0n (§f t\}i pipaaurp affnrlipti mg boga Ig "Im Uabbtt." A iag ®00 Slate. I met a friend not long ago, From a far distant State, ;Who had come to visit Virginia With expectations great. For she had heard so mnch of us, In such romantic guise, She thought the day had come at last For dreams to realize. She thought to find those same grand homes. With gates spread open wide. And all the adjuncts of the past Aristocratic pride. She thought to find a welcome free, Guests coming by the score, With compliments and toasts and jests, With dance and feasts galore. Centaurs and cavaliers the men, Eoses-in-bloom the maids, ^ Majestic age with silvery hair, And friends of every grade. 2 The Kabbit Foot The hospitality of those fine Housekeepers of the past, She should have known that fairy tale Was but too bright to last She expected to drive with coach and six, Outriders fore and aft, But when she spoke of doing that same- Why, all of us just laughed. Those ancestral homes in ruins lie, Of friends so true and tried. Many are dead, the rest of them Are scattered far and wide. The belles and beauties of long ago Have doffed their gracious airs, Another sort usurps the place They once considered theirs. Only traditions of our past, Survive just now and then, While even those are dying out, And disbelieved of men. Those lowly friends whose merriment Cheered night into the day, 'No longer friends, but secret foes. Somewhat to our dismay. The Rabbit Foot The little black who saved the steps, Obedient as a child, Has grown into the Caliban Of Shakespeare's Tempest Isle. Our hearts are just as warm perhaps, But buffets of stern fate Have changed our lives — I greatly fear She came a day too late. But ere these times are quite forgot, I'll try by skill of mine, To draw them as they used to be In simple true outline. The Eabbit Foot Eift labbit JTont. "I dun brung you er rabbit-foot, Miss Grace, An' I hopes 'twill bring you luck, Ef you ain't too high-fer-lut-in Tev takes intrust in secb truck. "I cotcbed bim myself er week ergo, At dat cbuch-yard do' by night, An' cut off his leff bine foot right straight, Arfter er tuzzlin' fight." "What sort of luck should I expect? For just what you might call Good luck, or bad, I mightn't think Any sort of a luck at all. "Dat's de trufe, yas'm, it sartinly so, I moughtn't agree wid you; Kase my bess of luck would princ'ply be Jess nuthin' er tall to do. "Cepp eatin' uv watermilyims — I had dun fergot dat fac — Thanky, Miss Grace ! (dat leff bine foot Dun started 'pon hits track !") The Rabbit Foot mtU iCurg. They were all Episcopalians, These darkeys at the Hall, And congregated at the church To christen children small. The preacher stood arrayed in white, In stiff and awesome state. To pour the holy chrism o'er Each little woolly pate. "IsTame this child!" Kate catches breath, She lisps: "Justh Luthy, thir," He stopt in fear and trembling, Eor he thought it "Lucifer." "I daren't baptize a Christian child By such a name as that — " And looked so fiercely at her. That Kate, fluttering like a bat, Whispered "Pleathe, thir, choothe yourthelf, Tho' ther won't no harm be dun — " "Well," said he, "what do you think Of the name of — Washington?" 6 The Rabbit Foot Then took the silence for consent, Announced with solemn air, ^'This child is named George Washington — ^^ And wondered at her stare. The mother melted into tears, And lifted up a wail That smote the truth into his ears, And made the preacher quail. "Dar now ! Dar now ! What I'm gwine do Wid dith poor leetle one, De onlieth gal I got on yerth Dun named George Wathington!" The Rabbit Foot Aunt Olm&g B Pnrtratt Miss say she warnt my pictiir tiik, Jess like I'm iiwery day — I don want no pictur tuk of mine Ef I got ter look dat way. Er pritty sight me — ole checked-coto An' hyar tied np wid strings, An' jess all bundled up enyhow, Who uvver heerd sech things ! Miss dunno what she talkin' 'bout, Me — in my slip-shod shoe, Wid nary bit uv bunnit on — An' in er pictur, too ! I don't warnt folks ter 'member me 'Cepp drust up in my bess ; I don't cornsider it respects er tall All floured up and messed. I warnts my new manchiller on, An' fan belt in my ban' ; An' settin' down like sho-'nuff f okes, De quality ov de Ian'. The Rabbit Foot I hain't gwine ter hab no chillen ov mine . Er 'spisin' ov my looks, Dat likeness got ter do me proud Like de vittles what I cooks. Miss ain't got nun ov hern dat way, Hern's drust in velvits fine, An' lessen I wars my Sund'y-bess, She don' git nun ov mine. Miss don' suspicion how I feels, But 'ceppin' we ergree 'Bout dem Sund'y-go-ter-meetin' clo& 'No sar ! JSTo mam ! No me ! The Eabbit Foot Aunt QltnJug'B l^mnh Olak?* ^^That cake was most delicious, Can't jovL tell me how it's made ?" "Why, certingly, Miss," most graciously The courteous accents said. "In cose, you takes plenty flour ernuff, De size de cake you warnt. An' den de aigs — jess ez you please — Sum's little, an' sum aren't. You graduates de shuger nex, Wid er lump ov butter, too; You beats de aigs — de yokes and whites — Den beats de butter thru. How big er lump ov butter, say ? Jess like I says it twuz, I thought enybody knowed how big Er lump ov butter wus. An' den you beats — an' beats — an' beats, Twell de dough gits reely warm, An' you gits warm er beatin' it; You carn't do it eny harm, 10 The Kabbit Foot Kase de mo' you beats de better 'tis, Fer er light-minded one ; Well, den you bakes an' bakes dat dough, Twell it rises like de sun. Dat's all de way — de way I duz, Kase dat's de way ter bake. An' you ain't nuvver set your toof In eny better cake. Huccum you don't understan' dat talk ? Why, dat one you jess eat Was made dat way, an' you jess say Dat cake, it carn't be beat." "But I always thought a real pound-cake Took just a pound around — " "Laws! no chile! it's dat beatin' What makes 'um call it pound.'' The Kabbit Foot 11 ''OIl|tlir^n S>l|0uliii b^ Btm nnh '^ct Mammy appears with bonnet tied, And basket on her arm, A look of mighty importance On her usual visage calm — For important looking persons Mammy bears the palm. A chorus of little voices : ^^0 ! Mammy ! Let me go ! I won't be any trouble — I'll do Whatever you tell me to — " *'l carn't let you go dis mornin', Dough I is sorry, sho'. "But I mought bring you sumthin' back, Ef you 'have like chillen should; Dough I carn't tell you what it is, It's sumthin' mighty good, But er powerful secret, hunny, Mammy'd tell you ef she could." '^Why, where are you going, Mammy ?" Asks the boldest of the throng, 12 The Rabbit Foot Re-echoed by the rest of us, Although we know it's wrong; But it's such a favor for Mammy To take one of us along. Then all of us stand quite abashed, For we know what Mammy thinks. When she straightens up and sets her mouth As solemn as the Sphynx, And wait in awestruck silence, And even the boldest blinks. Mammy can't ^^ntolerate'^ questions, And Mammy's black eyes shine. She turns with a reproving look And finished sarcasm fine: "I'm gwine whar I'm gwine, dat's whar — Now you know whar I'm er gwine." The Kabbit Foot 18 Always on the Sabbath-day Somebody tries to preach or pray, When the little darkeys come to say Their share of Catechism lore, A task by which they set much store, Now set aside forevermore. Little Magnolia comes with the rest, In linsey-wolsey gaily drest, And answers bravely with the best. Little Magnolia's fat and brown, While all alert from toe to crown, Intimidated by a frown. Little Magnolia always sings Of golden streets with harps and strings, And Jesus' love and angel wings. Of the doctrine of eternal fires She somewhat anxiously inquires. It evidently awe inspires. 14 The Kabbit Foot She listens with a mild surprise, About that home beyond the skies ; Then little Magnolia '^bats'' her eyes, And solemnly shakes her kinky headi "I dunno what I do ef I be ded, I jess es lief stay here instead — " A tear-drop twinkles like a star: "I suttinly don' want ter go nowhar, Less I know Mammy gwine be thar/' The Rabbit Foot 15 Ef I wus ter tell all dat I knows, 'Twonld raise er rumpuss sho' ; I jess now passed erlong de hall An' cum by dat side do'. You knows dey keeps de brandy on Dat sidebode in de hall ; Handy ter ax fokes fer ter drink When cump'ny cum ter call. An' dar wus Uncle Bumpass, Es jess es bold es brass, Er drinkin' frum de 'canter 'Thout even techin' er glass. Dat Bumpass sho' is spiled ter deff, An' always wus er limb; I don' speck he kno' ef dat dar house B'long ter Miss, er him. He seed me, an' jess humped his back, An' gin er leetle snigger ; "Dis her's Miss' licker you see gwine Inter yer Mistis' nigger." 16 The Rabbit Eoot An' Miss — slie wond'rin' uvvery daj, Why dat licker don' hole out; I don' see what she wunderin' at, Ef she jess look erbout. Ef I warnt feared uv Bumpass, I'd er tole her long ergo ; But jess you wait — one day — ole Miss Will cum by dat side do'." The Eabbit Foot 17 Wh luff. Ole Rnf e was caught red-handed ; 'No excuse came to his brain, "Kase tain't no use to splainifj, When things they won't stay splain. Dat chicken runned right crost my parth, Jess fryin'-size an' fat; My hans jess reached out uv demselves An' cotched him — simperly dat. I got ter take what cums ter me, Whatsumever de law erlow, Kase I carn't ercount fer dat dar fowl — I no-count nigger, enyhow." 18 The Eabbit Foot "I always likes ov Sundy morns Ter knock off at my ease, An' set out in de porch an' watch De birds out in dem trees — An' — Miss Kitty, I wish you'd ax yer Pa, Ter len' me de paper, please." '^Which one ?" "Jess eny one he's got, It's all de same ter me, I carn't read nare one, but I likes Ter set whar f okes kin see ; An' I 'joys myseff er thinkin' how I looks like ole Mars Lee." He's a very respectable old man, Of warm and chocolate brown, All of his colored friends stop and speak, On their errands through the town; And he enjoys his papers much As he holds them upside down. The Rabbit Foot 19 ''Miss gin Penny er long brown cloak Dat recht plum ter her knees, An' jess es good es new, 'cept whar Miss drapt er streak ov grease. Long down on de frontispeace. An' in cose she ciildn't war. So 'twas luck fer Penny — an' er hat Wid fethers here an' thar. When Sundy cum she hustled um on, An' traipsed erlong ter church, Her mouf er grin frum year ter year, Her face one gret big smirch. She slipt out 'fore de ress ov us, Dough she had work ter do ; An' got dar 'fore de preacher did — And percht in de middle pew. I had ter stay at home dat day To do what she dun leff; I owed her er grudge an' she got it, Er swingin' frum de heff. 20 The Eabbit Foot I wislit you'd seen her fling her lied Wid dem fethers fljin' 'roun', She nnvver lookt lower dan de skies, An' hardly teched de groun'. Den she cum twistin' in de house, So proud she bar cud speak. Like dat wus de fus cloak uvver made, Wid dat long greasy streak. She marched up ter de lookin'-glass Wid her hed tost in de ar ;" "I wisht you'd bin erlong wid me An' seed dem darkies star ! Dey lookt, an' lookt, an' I felt fine — '^ Den I larft twell I wus hurt, **I ain't wund'rin' at dat starin', nun— Whar you leff yer bottom skirt ?" The Eabbit Foot 21 "You fust take sum termottoses '^ "How many?" "Jess jou choose, About es many as you think You need to want ter use. An' slice an' stew um er long time, Hit's pintedly werk, not fun ; Mine, stew um slow, as long's you think Hit'll take ter be well done. An' den you take some inguns, Keep stewin' all erlong; But don't put too many inguns in. Do ketchup be too strong. Den er pinch uv cloves — an' spices, Not nuff ter spile de looks, An' don't you put um in too soon. Day darkens whiles dey cooks. An' sum likes corimander seed. But I don' holes by dat, isTer po' man's flaver, cinnermun. Hit makes hit tase too flat. 22 The Rabbit Poot ]^ot mucli uv all, and yit erniiff ; I f ergot dem peppers, too; You better put too much uv thum, Den resk erbout too few." "Howmucb? How many?" "I carn't tell, You puts in, an' dispense Jess by yer sense ov feel ins — Ain't you got natehul sense ?" "By those rules — you call them rules ?"> "In cose — an' sho' I do — " "I think your ^ketch-up' recipe Is certainly ^catch-up' too." Mammy is mightly 'fended now; "Well, ef you knows de bess, Whyn't you make hit yer own seff, An' leab me ter my ress." The Kabbit Foot 23 "What you warnt here, little Miss V "Why, I've come to learn to cook ;" "Now you march straight back ter that thar house, An' read yer pictur-book, An' tend ter white foke's business, Whar white fokes understans; You got no business 'round dis fire Er spilin' dem white hands. Yer granma'd rise up in her grabe To see are chile of hern Er meddlin' wid er butcher-knife, Or projickin' wid er churn. An' I jess mixin' uv dis dough, Two cakes ter make an' bake, An' here you cum wid sum yer fun; Don' talk, fer pity's sake, Kase I got no time ter wase jess now, An' de kitchen ain' no place Fer dem dar shoes an' ruffled dress, Ner fer quality chillen's face. 24 The Eabbit Foot You got plenty ov fokes ter cook fer you De ress of your born days ;'' ^^But why can't I learn to cook myself?'* "Kase/' argues Mammy, ^'Kase." So then fate's fiat has gone forth, The "ukase" of our Czar, Like axioms of self-evident truths, For Mammy's "kase" is law. "Miss" returns to her pleasant tasking And resumes her picture-book; 'Now many a time she wrings her hands That she didn't learn to cook. The Kabbit Foot 25 Mort was always good-natured and ready to laugh, In fact, he was generally grinning, With his eyes and his teeth in boldest relief, But droning's the worst of his sinning. He can play a good tune and dance to its time, And has a good voice for the singing; His efforts stop there, for though advice is not rare, For a chorus is usually ringing. Of "lazy'' and "trifless" and "wuthless" and such Epithets must he daily be hearing; But they make no sort of impression on Mort, Though not for the want of good rearing. His mother never let up on dinning it in, His wife kept continually prodding ; It seemed like the bees buzzing on in the trees, And oftentimes set him to nodding. "You mus spec ter fine munny growin' 'pun trees. 26 The Kabbit Eoot Kase you ain't nuvver earned yer own salt- in—" "I nuwer seed no good in sech high-seasoned food, Tain't me dat fine all dat faultin'.'' ^^Don't yer know/' plead his wife, "dat Satan look out Fer ter keep idle hans all er werkin', An' you know you is lazy an' shiffless an' slazy, What you mean by interminal shirkin' ?" "Yes, I knows dat Satan induschus ernuff, Dat he wussern er bee er er hornit, But yer fine yerseff losin' sum good time er- busin'. Whiles you breaves in my years like er cornit." "I bleaves ef you had er whole fiel' ov wheat, You wouldn't husy yersefi fer ter reap it — " "Busy ! Dat de onliest good quality de debble am got, An' I moves fer ter let de debble keep it." The Kabbit Foot 27 I 'low she are de slightenest one Dat I did iiver see, An' when I tells you her lass trick, I think you'll ergree wid me. Miss hired her when her miss wus sick, An' busying wid dem all ; Jess erwaitin' at dat dippo. When dey heerd de ingin squall. *^!N"ow" ses Miss, ^*^you takes dis chile An' hole her by de han', An' be reddy ter jump in arfter me, When de cyars cum ter de stan'." An' dat outdashus gal got in, Wid er little light-hyared chile Ere fitein' like de scratches. An' lookin' skeered an' wile. An' de ingine started off right straight, An' Miss lookt at her face ; Ef you b'leaves, 'twas sum strange chile Dat she'd jukked off de place. 28 The Rabbit Foot Er chile dey nuvver seed befo', An' 'Lisbuth leff behine, Well, you reckon dey started telegrums Explainin' 'bout deir mine. Dey stopt at de fust place on de road, An' had her exprust back; An' finully got our 'Lizerbuth Frum off de ingine track. *^An', lawsy me, why, tain't my fault, I didn't knowed her name, But I grabbed de bess one dat I seed, An' I don' bar no blame. "I thought," sed dat tfifless nigger, '^Dat she wus er awful chile. But I put up wid her fitein' ov mo Kase white fokes always spiled." The Eabbit Foot 29 3Fii0H an IBubb* Miss she' do make er lot ov fuss 'Bout keepin' ov things clean, An' peekin' 'bout in cornders . Whar nuthin' kin be seen. "Sweep here ! Bresh dis ! Duss thar I 'Now pick up all deni strings," An' who you reckon got de nerve Ter look arf ter all dem things ? Now I don' pruve ov so much werk, Who reckon dirt gwine hurt; Miss suttinlj dun fergot de fac, Dat we alls made ov dirt. Suttinly, we'uns made out dirt. An' terns ter dirt ergin ; An' yit Miss keep us wrasslin' 'round Like good clean dirt wus sin. 30 The Rabbit Foot "Miss Rose, lemme hab yer hens ter raise, I got de likeliest place, Whar de grass am green, an' er lively drain, An' de water jess rnns ter waste; My fowls, ef I do say it myseff, Do hab de bestes tase. I takes all de trubble offen yer bans, An' raise dem bens fer baff ; De mill ain't fur, an' dey picks up Deir livin' off offal an' cbaff ; I sbo' is lucky wid my bens — " Sbe ends witb a jolly laugb. So just to try, sbe gives ber twelve Of Cocbin eggs to batch, After due time she makes ber way Down by P'lina's patch. (iN'ow old P'lina's smooth a one The world may find to match.) The chickens are of frying size, P'lina's face all smile, The Kabbit "Foot ^1 "ISTow jess sit down an' ress yerseff, An' look eroun' erwliile ; Hit's menny er day sense yon bin heer— Hits nigh erbont er mile. Yon don' say yon walked dis fur On dem leetle teensy feet ? I 'clar, Miss Rose, yon sho' looks yonng, An' dat dress sho' is sweet!" "We'll talk about the chickens now — They must be ready to eat. How many of my dozen hatched?" "De hen jess hatched out six — An' laws, Miss Rose, your six eggs spiled— How white fokes does git mixt, Jess six eggs hatched — an' dem six dar Is my harf ov de chicks." ^2 The Eabbit Foot "There goes old Aunt Mary now, Eun and catch her, please ; I want her to come some time next week To help boil down that grease. I want her for fifty other things- Find out if she can come, Or I'll have to look for some one else — • Now call her — ^you're not dumb/^ Aunt Mary halts— "JSTow, you be sure To tell her to come next week.'' Aunt Mary's a regular character, A Barnum Museum freak. But she well knows how to do her work* An invaluable aid In times of great emergency, If sure to be well paid. Whatever you say, her eyes are skinned To her own interest sure. And if she is not paid enough — Shell take it, even more. The Eabbit Foot 38 They talk so long before the gate My patience quite gives out, So I saunter slowly down the lane To see what they are about. For nothing's happened that I know In the county or the town, To require elaborate gestures And wavings up and down. I hear in snatches as I walk: ''Aunt Polly's Susan Ann," And somebody's sister '' 'Melia" And Aunt Mary's own ''ole man." I hear nothing at all about my soap, Or any of my affairs, And I must shift some of the burden Of accumulating cares. I break in on the list of friends, Like the pibroch of old days. The enumerations of Scotch clans With their uncommon ways. At last a pause : "Well, can you come V* ''Come? What for? AndWhar? And how fer is I got ter walk ? An' when will I git thar ?" S4 The Babbit Toot This is the form of mother-wit, Of many of her kind ; I well know how she always talks, So I needn't ever mind. But I look in amazement at my maid, Who doesn't offer to speak ; ^^Why! Hasn't Parthenia told you I want you to work next week ?" "Parthenia! What is the matter with you?'* "I hadn't dun fergit, But I hadn't jess finished axin' 'Bout all her kinfokes yit." The Babbit Foot 35 Ole Mills didn't hab no manner uv use Per Joe before be went, Still less wben be bad cum back bome, Stuffed up witb ars and scent. You kno be nuwer bad no sense, Kase Jim wus sure pea-green; ITo, I ain't talkin' 'bout ole Mills, I darsen't — be too mean. You dunno wbat you gwine ter ketcb ^ Wben you meddles wid ole Mills ; Pokes say be's cunjur, watcb yer mouf 'Bout iiwery word it spills. But Joe cum trippin' on bis toes, Er bowin' 'roun' wid smiles, Usein' de biggest sort ov words, De sbortess reacb tbree miles. Unc'l Mills batted ov bis eyes, One second 'twus forty winks, An' drawed bis mouf all in and out, We knowed wbat ole Mills tbinks. 36 The Kabbit Foot Kow here's er sample ov dat Joe : ^^An' yer corpus segradiates well V^ "I'm pleasured wid memorial news," "Quite an umbragial smell." We all wus feared to say one werd, When Mills keep battin' his eyes ; Twell he says : "Is dis here Joseph's coat On Mr. Sollermun Wise ? An' will snmbody please ter tell What dis here gentlemun say, Kase ef he means insults by dem, He better track out my way." Sumbody tried to 'splain ter him Dat what Joe meant ter say Was sum kine ov er compliment, But sed sum yether way. An' Uncle Mills kepp on battin' his eyes, An' wavin' ov dat ban' ; "Den Mister Wise must use de werds Dat fokes kin understan'." When ole Mills bat bof bans an' eyes, We got reesins ter know de cause ; He jess er eechin' for ter reech out An' smack somebody's jaws. The Eabbit Foot 37 Joe called back his 'membrances, Kase Joe, he knowed it too, An* de nex time he cum tf aipsin^ in He sed plain *^Howdy-ao/' The Rabbit Foot Uncle Ajax has a curious way Of muttering all the time; Carrying a brisk talking on, Half reason and half rhyme. He works the garden in the Spring ; You hear his voice for hours ; !N'obody there but the trees and weeds, The grass, and the young Spring flowers. Sometimes he goes on so fast You'd think he had a double, While the cadences go up and down, As if Ajax was in trouble. His thoughts fly ofl to far-ofl times, The future, or the past. The present hardships of his lot. The length of time they last. ^^Run,'' said I once to Mammy Kate, As they swung from bass to treble; "Laws, chile, I darsent ventur, kase Ajax talkin' ter de debble." The Rabbit Foot ''Why, Uncle Yorke ! And how do you do ?" ^'Tolerbul poorly, Miss Vi, Arf ter what I goes thru ; I dnn got rheiimatiz, Ez you kin see — Or ruther de rheumatiz Dun got me. An' I ain't gettin' 'long So well es I mought; I got pleny ter eat, But my wood gin out; An' I cum ter ax yer Fer er tern Of sum oak-knots Dat's fitten ter burn; An' I pays you back Ef I libs tweli Spring, An' Spring mos' here, Ef de birds don' sing." "If you'll cut up That tree by the fall, And move it away. You can have it all.'* i 40 The Eabbit Foot "Laws, sholy ! Miss Yi I You don't expec Me ter tech are tree Whar litenin' strecks? You won't git are nigger In dese lands, Ter meddle wid litenin' Wid his hands. Dat tree will stan' While de werl muve 'roun', Ef you waits fer me Ter cut it down. I'd friz ter deff 'Fore I toch are limb, When litenin' strecks It b'longs ter Him. You he totin' bad luck Ercrost yer floor When you totes dat wood Insiden yer do'. ^/ An' you don' know — ? ( Whar you bin raise? ^^ Dat tor burn dat wood Will shorten yer days ? You moughtn't b'leave What de witches sed, But dat be too late When Yorke be ded. The Rabbit Foot 41 .Well, I sho' am bleeged — ■ Good-by, Miss Vi, I fotcli yer dat litewood Tore I die. But ef you wants Ter lose yer breff, You try dat ded wood By yerseff.^' i2 The Rabbit Foot IsTo darkey ever acknowledged good health, He was always ^Toorly, thank God V You'd think his back was bent or broke By submission to the rod. ^^Bress God ! He'd a mizry in his hade/' Or rheumatiz in his knees ; But everything — ailments, good or bad, Was plastered by that ^^Please." If you'd ask what really was the cause Of making such a fuss, ^^Dar ain't nuthin' 'tickler de matter terday- But I'm feared of gittin' wnss." The Rabbit Eoot 43 You kin talk erboiit yer silber cups, An' tankards wid de ale, An' er tknrsty man upon er pmch Kin tilt de water-pail ; Out in de fiels yer own two lians An unsartin sup kin 'ford; But you dunno kow water ought ter tase Lessen you drinks frum de gourd. De white f okes drinks out menny things, Jess 'cordin' how dey raise, Coke-nut dippers, tumblers, mugs. An' menny yether ways ; But fur da rale pleasure. An' de water jess bin poured, Eer satersfaction all eroun', Gimme er drink frum de gourd. Be gourd wus made fer niggers, Jess growin' 'long de groun', Takin' life easy in de mine An' lazin' all eroun'. 44 The Kabbit Foot Go doAvn ter dat spring in de hollow, Whar de summer coolness stored, An' fotch dat bucket drippin' back An' gimme er drink frum de gourd. The Kabbit Foot 46 The guns had opened a steady fire, The grass with blood was wet ; When a negro baby toddled up Along the parapet. Composed and calm as the sky above He walked serenely through The shot and shell of the belching guns With the fire and smoke in view. Black as the ace of spades was he, With one white garment on ; That scantily covered the little limbs. And that was tattered and worn. A flag of truce — for both sides stopped — It created quite a stir — "I jess cumed up hyar fer ter see What all dis noise is fer. I warnts ter see de ginrul Boss What owns all dese here guns;" A hand reached up and dragged him down While a shout of laughter runs 46 The Eabbit Foot All through the startled camping-grounds. "JSTow, Sambo, what's your will?" "I wisht, Mr. Ginrul, dat you'd make All dese here guns keep still. Mammy put me in my cradle, An' rockt me a whole heep ; But I dun tole her twarnt no use, Kase I carn't go ter sleep Wid all dis racket 'roun' me; An' ef you'll be so good — I wisht you'd stop it, Mister — " And ^ ^Mister" wished he could. The Kabbit Foot 47 Uncle Jake lived up in de loft, In de cabin ov his niece, Kase tie sed dat wuz de onliest place He cud find enny peace. Un uwery time when he cum down Dat larther, day by day, He sot it up erginst de wall Ter keep it out de way. De werd were kerried 'roun' erbout Dat he were mouglity rich ; All his ruUations kep deirselves Chuned up ter concert pitch. An', by an' by, he cum ter die, Dey all wuz getherin' 'roun'. An' IJncle Jake he stretched his eyes Like he wake frum er swound. "I leabes ter Sue an' chillen My ole black stockin'-f ut ; Hit's in de bottom ov de chist — Leasways, dar's whar 'twas put." 48 The E^^bbit Foot An' den his eyes kep wundering — An' his voice grow moughtj soff- '^Yes, angels, set dat larther up — I'm gwine inter yer loft." The Kabbit Foot 49 Yes, I knowed all 'bout Injuns; I knowed um fust an' last. An' you young fokes may thank your stars Dat Injun-time dun past. I seed um cum, an' I seed um go, Wid deir tomashawks an' paint, An' de likeliest Injun dat I seed Was fur frum bein' er saint. 'Twarnt no fun, now I tells yer, Ter beer dem Injuns yell. An' fly erbout wid tomashawks Ter roast yer shins er spell. I tells yer now 'twus somethin' fierce Ter see dem Injuns dance, An' sculp de top ov yer only bed , Whenuvver dey got er chance. De onliest good Injun is er dead one, sho', I heerd sumbody sed; Ef Miss Pocahontus wus er good Injun, Well, ain't Miss Poky ded ? 50 The Kabbit Foot An' she bin ded er good long time, Mos' fokes is dun forgit, But Injuns is — Injuns— an' I kno Her kin-fokes livin' yit. The Rabbit Foot 51 Mxm iarltttg. Graduated — and with a head choke full, Of all new-fangled germs, Her language spiced with college slang And scientific terms. Elected to teach, because she knows So much beyond a doubt ; Feels vastly superior to the race That dwell around about She reads a tome of ponderous size, And toasts her feet at the fire, Sub-conscious of the wisdom That others should admire. When old Belinda's turbaned head Is popped inside the door — "Well, Miss Darling, I sho' is glad You here fer sartin' sho'.'' Passes the compliments of the day, With futurity of hope ; Then asks if she knows "when the moon will wax Ter make er bilin' ov soap." 52 The Babbit Foot Miss Darling stares, as well slie might, With nothing at all to say, "For what does she know about waxing, And bilings are not her way. She thinks Belinda out of her mind, Mixing up soap and moon, And devoutly wishes one might come To relieve the stress, and soon. Belinda laughs at her vacant stare, ^'Laws 1 chile, I jess cum ter ax When the moon kin change — ter bile the soap Frum out de alminax ? Or kin you tell me when de new moon Will be upon de crease? Kase I should be loth ter spile All dat dar mutton grease. I dun save er lot of good white fat, An' hate ter see it wase ; Ef de moon beent right — '' and laughs again At Miss Darling's puzzled face. "Don't you know fokes don' bile no soap When de moon am on de wane ; Hit'll all dry up, an' won't make suds, An' de trubble all be vain ?" The Eabbit Foot 53 Miss Darling vaguely remembers, ^'Hitch your wagon to a star.^' But it doesn't seem to fit right in, Or the wagon seems to jar. "No," she answers coldly, "I know nothing of that kind — " And feels the weighty significance Of an educated mind. Belinda turns in silent scorn. With an insulted air, And settles her opinion Of Miss Darling then and there. "Laws ! calling herself uv er teacher," She grunts when out of range ; "An' carn't even tell er poor nigger When the moon gwine change." 54: The Kabbit Foot §^piuUxt^ tl|^ parting. ''Ole Marster called we darkeys up rriim de plantation grouns, De yard wiis black with bobbin' heads Fur suvral yards eroun'. ^^IN'ow/' ses ole Marser, "youse all free," An' er tear wus in his eye; ^'You dun dun yer duty all by me, An' I wants ter say good-by. I wish you well, my lifetime friends, We've wintered many years," De ress dat he wus gwine ter say Was swallered up wid tears. Ole Marster stood in silence, den And waved ter all his han' ; Den Dinks stept up an' made er bow, "Does we alls understand Dat we is free ter go — er stay ? Jess as we please an' choose; An' muss we go, or kin we stay ? Dis here's confugin news. The Rabbit Foot 55 Kase I ain't got nowhars ter go. My wife an' cliillen's ded, An' out in dat same buryin'-ground I hopes ter lay dis bed. An' ef it's all de same ter you, I stays right on right here, An' goes an' plows dat same low grouns I dun plowed forty year." Den Chloe said : "How 'bout dat chile ? Is she gwine 'long wid me ? Is you gwine make her papers out An' say we bofe is free ? What I gwine say ter Mistis, Up 'mongst dem heavenly palms, When she ax me 'bout dat dar chile She leff in dese two arms ? You know she call ter me dat night. Upon dat dyin' bed, An' I promist on my bended knees, An' dese de werds I said : I calls de Lord ter witness, Wid dat chile upon my bress, Ter see dat I tuk keer ov her. Den Mistis went ter ress. LOfC. 56 The Eabbit Foot I gwine ter luk Miss in de face, An' straight betwixt de eye, I dun tuk keer of dat po' chile Twell I were called on high. An' dough she almoss big ernufF Ter take keer of herseff, Miss 'specs me ter look arfter her Untwell mj djin' breff. Ef Missy carn't go 'long wid me, I stays here twell I dies;" An' uvvery darkey standin' dar Had tears in bof his eyes. But sum dem young an' trifless ones 'Pon what no reed depens, Dey squanderd off all which-er-ways. But we uns parted frens. "An' whar wus I ? An' whar'd I go ? Ax what ole Marster thinks; I thought I had dun 'splained myseff Dat my name wus ole Dinks." The Babbit Toot ^*^ For at least six months after the war, The darkeys staid at home, Then began a great migration, They said ''De werd dun cnm. ^^Whatword? From whom? From where?" But that was all they said, And further explanation Was never ever made. For whatever thoughts roll inside Beneath those crinkled hairs. You'll never know — that secret gift, Silence— is surely theirs. But in spite of all persuasion Some staid where they were born, Even suffered persecution — Held by their race in scorn. They worked on till their dying day. And knew no other place, Some faithful hearts were staunch and true, Even of a treacherous race. 58 The Rabbit Foot Ever and anon some notice reads, ^Tasised — from the dark to light," ^'Our Mamm/' or ^^Old Uncle Jake— '* ^^Black, but the soul was white." The Eabbit Foot 59 Think of the little ones now-a-dajs Born to untoward fate, Who never will hear a slumber-song With Mammies ont of date. 'No comforting for childish woes, No kiss to ease a pain, If they look to hireling nurses, They look, alas ! in vain. Her only thought of precious charge Iler wages by the week; But otherwise a nuisance, If her inmost soul could speak. We ought to give the children Of love a ten-fold store, When the Mammies of the South are gone — And gone forever more. 60 The Eabbit Foot Dey talks erbout de problumsea Of dese here curis times, An' how de puzzle werries um, Wid de multiflyin' crimes. An' wunderSj wunders how dey cums, An' what dej's gwine ter do, An' how cum dis, an' how goes dat, An' what's er cumin' true. An' er poor ole nigger jess like me, Black es de midnight's face, Kin gin dem easy answers fer All dis here cumin' race. Dey jess needs good ole 'ligion, De good ole-f ashuned kine, An' take de hoe an' go ter werk, Dat'll easy up de mine. Dey ain't no puzzle ter be 'splain, Dat answer dun cum true. Laws ! Dese here problums ole es time, Hit's jess de people's new. The Eabbit Foot 61 Dat^s all — dat's faif, an' common-sense, Don' werry 'bout no more ; Ole-time 'ligion bar you up, An' Ian' jou on dat shore. Dat jether shore, dat shining shore, Whar dar nuwer is no night, Whar poor fokes walks upon de gold, An' black fokes same as white. 62 The Kabbit Foot These little picaninnies That scramble on the fence, Are lively living pictures That appeal to Southern sense. With all their grins of merriment 'No sorrow serves to stem; But this race is disappearing fast, So make the most of them. SS$Sj^M Old times dar am not f or-got-ten ! f Sam S. & Lee Shiibert direct the following theatres and theatrical attractions in America : Hippodrome, Lyric, Casino, Dalys, Lew Fields, Herald Square and Princess Thea- tres, New York. Garrick Theatre, Chicago. Lyric Theatre, Philadelphia. Shubert Theatre, Brooklyn. Belasco Theatre, Washing- ton. Belasco Theatre, Pittsburg. Shubert Theatre, Newark. Shubert Theatre, Utica. Grand Opera House, Syra- cuse. Baker Theatre, Rochester. Opera House, Providence. Worcester Theatre, Worces- Theatre, New ter. Hyperion Haven. Lyceum Theatre, Buffalo. Colonial Theatre, Cleveland. Raud'3 Opera House, Troy. Garrick Theatre, St. Louis. Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Norfolk, Va. Shubert Theatre, Columbus. I Lyric, Cincinnati. Mary Anderson Theatre, Louisville. New Theatre, Richmond, Va. New Theatre, Lexington, Ky. New Theatre, Mobile. New Theatre, Atlanta. Shubert Theatre, Milwau- kee. Lyric Theatre, New Orleans. New Marlowe Theatre, Chattanooga. New Theatre, Detroit. Grand Opera House, Dav- enport, Iowa. New Theatre, Toronto. New Sothern Theatre, Den- ver. Sam S. Shubert Theatre, Kansas City. Majestic Theatre, Los An- geles. Belasco Theatre, Portland. Shubert Theatre, Seattle. Majestic Theatre, San Fran- cisco. EH. Sothern & Julia Mar- lowe in repertoire. Margaret Anglin and Henry Miller. Virginia Harned, Mary Mannering in " Glori- ous Betsy." Mme. Alia Nazimova. Thos. W. Ross in "The Other Girl." Cecelia lyoftus. Clara Bloodgood. Blanche Ring. Alexander Carr. Digby Bell. "The Girl Behind the Counter." "The Light Eternal.' "The Snow Man." Blanche Bates in " The Girl from the Golden West." David Warfield in "The Music Master." " The Rose of the Rancho," with Rose Starr. Harrison Gray Fiske's Attractions. Mrs, Fiske in York Idea." The New * Shore Acres." Louis Mann in "The White Hen." "The Road to Yesterday." Henry Woodruff in "Brown of Harvard." "The Secret Orchard," by Channing Pollock. De Wolf Hopper in " Hap- py land." Eddie Foy in " The Orchid." Marguerite Clark, in a new opera. "The Social Whirl," with Chas. J. Ross. James T. Powers in " The Blue Moon." Bertha Kalich, "Leah Kleschna." "The Man on the Box." Cyril Scott in " The Prince Chap." " Mrs. Temple's Telegram." "The Three of Us." You cannot go wrong in selecting one of these play-houses for an evening's entertain- ment in whatever city you may happen to be. ADIRONDACK) MURRAY A Dios'rapHical Appreciation By Harry V. Eadford Editor cf Woods and Waters W. H. H. MURRAY (b. 1840, d. 1904)— equally celebrated as preacher, author, lecturer, sportsman and traveler— has be- come an immortal figure in American history and letters, taking rank, as a writer, with Cooper and Thoreau. Mr. Radford— himself an author and sportsman of national repute, and ac- knowledged the greatest living authority upon Adirondack sport and literature— has told the wonderful story of "Adiron- dack " Murray from the vantage-point of personal acquaintance, and with a characteristic grace and charm of style that insures for his book permanent popularity. HENRY VAN DYKE in a personal letter written to the author from "Ayalon," Princeton, N. J., says of Mr. Radford's book : '^ Your writing- takes me back in imagination to that beautiful country of mountains, and rivers, and lakes, where so many of the happiest months of my early life were spent, and where I learned to cast the tly and shoot a rille. It is pleasant to feel the sincere and cordial enthusiasm with which you write of the fine traits of Mr. A'lurray's character, ai'.dthe big out-of- door side of his life in which the best of his nature found expression. I congratulate you on the success with which you have performed your task of gratitude and friendship, and hope that your book will find its way into the hands of thousands of those who love the woods and the waters." 10 FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIOIMS Flexible wood- green leather, with elaborate emblematic decoration in gold, and full gilt edges. Bym.ail |i.6o Blue vellum cloth. By mail 60 BROADWAY PUBLISHiNG COMPANY 535 BROADWAY, NEW YORK SOME OF THE VERY LATEST SPRING AND SUMMER ^ 1907 HSTYHNaX 2lti Epic Romance of Ilion, Tltlantis and Hmar&ea By HON. JOSEPH M. BROWN With 4S Drawings by Hudson 950 pp. Postpaid SI. 70 THE TW© PaMILIES a Novel by iRENE GWENDOLEN ZIZIGtS and MRS. ANNn BTlRBTlRTi ZIZIQK $1.50 Postpaid THE SINNER'S FRIEND a Beautiful Religious Poem BY e. G. SAMUEL 3rd Edition $1.00 Illustrated aeR©SS THE PLHINS HKO ©VER THE DIVIDE RTiNnTlJLL H. HEV^ITT A Mule Train Journey horn East to West in 1862, and Incidents Connected Therewith. Witli About 80 illisstrations $1.50 Postpaid Ordep from BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO. 835 Broadway New York AUS '