JOGGIN ERLONG 
 
 PAUL LAURENCE 
 * 4- DUNBAIL 
 
 
Joggin' Erlong 
 

 Joggin' Erlong 
 
 By 
 
 Paul Laurence Dunbar 
 
 Illustrated with Photographs by 
 
 Leigh Richmond Miner 
 
 and Decorations by 
 
 John Rae 
 
 New York 
 
 Dodd, Mead and Company 
 1906 
 
Copyright 
 
 1896, 1899, 1903, 1905, 1906 
 By Dodd, Mead and Company 
 
 Published, October, 1906 
 
 The University Press, Cambridge, U. S A. 
 
TO MY FRIEND 
 WILLIAM L. BLOCHER 
 
 WHO AIDED ME FINANCIALLY 
 
 IN THE PUBLICATION OF 
 
 MY FIRST BOOK 
 
 "OAK AND IVY" 
 
 m 
 
m 
 
 21 
 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Pa, 
 
 Joggin' Erlong 9 
 
 Sling Along 15 
 
 Long Ago 21 
 
 Keep a Song Up on the Way .... 27 
 
 Philosophy 31 
 
 Noon 37 
 
 The Voice of the Banjo 41 
 
 The Real Question 47 
 
 At Night 51 
 
 Temptation 57 
 
 Spring Fever ' 63 
 
 A Little Christmas Basket 69 
 
 An Ante-Bellum Sermon 73 
 
 A Frolic 83 
 
 A Plantation Melody 87 
 
 te .**> 
 
 Jilted . . . . 91 
 
 A Cabin Tale 95 
 
 Possession . 105 
 
 A Coquette Conquered in 
 
 Jealous 117 
 
 Mi 
 pl^i^ 
 
 $3$ L&& 
 
 **Ll 
 
 "* Ma 
 
JOGGIN' ERLONG 
 
JOGGIN' ERLONG 
 
 DE da'kest hour, dey allus say, 
 Is des' befo' de dawn, 
 But it's moughty ha'd a-waitin' 
 Were de night goes frownin' on; 
 An' it 's moughty ha'd a-hopin' 
 Wen de clouds is big an* black, 
 An* all de t'ings you 's waited fu' 
 Has failed, er gone to wrack 
 But des' keep on a-joggin' wid a little bit o' 
 
 song, 
 De mo'n is allus brightah we'n de night 's 
 
 been long. 
 
 
 
 

 ': 
 
 
 ffi 
 
 Dey 's lots o' knocks you 's got to tek 
 
 Befo' yo' journey 's done, 
 
 An' dey 's times w'en you '11 be wishin' 
 
 Dat de weary race was run; 
 
 W'en you want to give up tryin' 
 
 An' des' float erpon de wave, 
 
 W'en you don't feel no mo' sorrer 
 
 Ez you t'ink erbout de grave 
 
 Den, des' keep on a-joggin' wid a little bit o' 
 
 song, 
 De mo'n is allus brightah w'en de night 's 
 
 been long. 
 
 ' 
 
 
De whup-lash sting a good deal mo* 
 
 De back hit 's knowed befo', 
 
 An' de burden 's allus heavies' 
 
 Whaih hits weight has made a so'; 
 
 Dey is times w'en tribulation 
 
 Seems to git de uppah han' 
 
 An' to whip de weary trav'lah 
 
 'Twell he ain't got stren'th to stan' 
 
 But des' keep on a-joggin' wid a little bit o' 
 
 song, 
 De mo'n is allus brightah w'en de night 's 
 
 been long. 
 
 feio 
 

 -m 
 
 
SLING ALONG 
 
SLING ALONG 1 
 
 SLING along, sling along, sling along, 
 De moon done riz, 
 
 Dem eyes o' his, 
 
 Done sighted you, 
 
 Where you stopped to woo. 
 Sling along, sling along, 
 
 It ain't no use fu' to try to hide, 
 
 De moonbeam allus at yo' side, 
 
 He hang f'om de fence, he drap f'om de limb, 
 
 Dey ain't no use bein' skeered o' him. 
 Sling along, sling along. 
 
 1 This is the last dialect poem that was written by Mr. Dunbar 
 16 
 
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Sling along, sling along, sling along, 
 
 De brook hit flow, 
 
 Fu' to let you know, 
 
 Dat he saw dat kiss, 
 
 An* he know yo' bliss. 
 Sling along, sling along. 
 
 He run by yo' side, 
 
 An' he say howdydo, 
 
 He ain't gwine to tell but his eye 's on you, 
 
 You can lay all yo' troubles on de very 
 highest she'f, 
 
 Fu' de little ol' brook's jss' a talkin' to his 
 
 se'f, 
 Sling along, sling along. 
 
 Sling along, sling along, sling along, 
 De 'possum grin, 
 But he run lak sin, 
 He know love 's sweet, 
 But he prize his meat. 
 
 Sling along, sling along. 
 
 He know you 'd stop fu' to hunt his hide, 
 If you los' a kiss and a hug beside, 
 But de feas' will come and de folks will eat, 
 When she tek yo' han' at de altah seat. 
 
 So sling along, sling along. 
 
*" . k JMyj'i 1.1 
 
LONG AGO 
 
 

 
^jf"^"~ * * a 
 
 m 
 
 LONG AGO 
 
 DE ol f time 's gone, de new time 's hyeah 
 Wid all hits fuss an' feddahs; 
 I done fu'got de joy an* cheah 
 
 We knowed all kin's o' weddahs, 
 I dene fu'got each ol'-time hymn 
 
 We ust to sing in meetin'; 
 I 's leahned de prah's, so neat an* trim, 
 De preachah keeps us 'peatin'. 
 
 Hang a vine by de chimney side, 
 
 An' one by de cabin do' ; 
 An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, 
 
 De day of long ergo. 
 
 
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 F- 
 
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 My youf, hit 's gone, yes, long ergo, 
 
 An' yit I ain't a-moanin'; 
 Hit 's fu' somet'ings I ust to know 
 
 I set to-night a-honin'. 
 De pallet on de ol' plank flo', 
 
 De rain bar'l und' de eaves, 
 De live oak 'fo' de cabin do', 
 
 Whaih de night dove comes an' grieves. 
 
 Hang a vine by de chimney side, 
 
 An' one by de cabin do'; 
 An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, 
 
 De day of long ergo. 
 
 24 
 
 
 
 
 
I 'd lak a few ol' frien's to-night 
 
 To come an' set wid me; 
 An' let me feel dat ol' delight 
 
 I ust to in dey glee. 
 But hyeah we is, my pipe an' me, 
 
 Wid no one else erbout; 
 We bofe is choked ez choked kin be, 
 
 An' bofe '11 soon go out. 
 
 Hang a vine by de chimney side, 
 An' one by de cabin do'; 
 
 An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, 
 De day of long ergo. 
 
 

KEEP A SONG UP ON THE WAY 
 
KEEP A SONG UP ON THE WAY 
 
 
 O 
 
 H, de clouds is mighty heavy 
 An' de rain is mighty thick; 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 An* de waters is a rumblin' 
 On de boulders in de crick, 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 Fu' a bird ercross de road 
 Is a-singin' lak he knowed 
 Dat we people did n't daih 
 Fu' to try de rainy aih 
 
 Wid a song up on de way. 
 
 What 's de use o' gittin' mopy 
 Case de weather am' de bes'! 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 Wen de rain is fallin' ha'des', 
 Dey 's de longes' time to res' ; 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 Dough de plough 's a-stan'in' still 
 Dey '11 be watah fu' de mill, 
 Rain mus' come ez well ez sun 
 'Fo' de weathah's wo'k is done, 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 
 28 
 
 pp^ 
 
W'y hit 's nice to hyeah de showahs 
 Fallin' down ermong de trees: 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 Ef de birds don' bothah 'bout it, 
 But go singin' lak dey please, 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 You don' s'pose I 's gwine to see 
 Dem ah fowls do mo' dan me? 
 No, suh, I '11 des chase dis frown, 
 An' aldough de rain fall down, 
 
 Keep a song up on de way. 
 
 
 
 - l 
 

PHILOSOPHY 
 
 
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 iH 
 
MM 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 I BEEN t'inkin' 'bout de preachah; whut 
 he said de othah night, 
 'Bout hit bein' people's dooty fu' to keep 
 
 dey faces bright; 
 How one ought to live so pleasant dat ouah 
 
 tempah never riles, 
 
 Meetin' evahbody roun' us wid ouah very 
 nicest smiles. 
 
 Dat 's all right, I ain't a-sputin, not a t'ing 
 
 dat soun's lak fac', 
 But you don't ketch folks a-grinnin, wid a 
 
 misery in de back; 
 An' you don't fin* dem a-smilin' w'en dey 's 
 
 hongry ez kin be, 
 Leastways, dat 's how human natur' allus 
 
 seems to 'pear to me. 
 We is mos' all putty likely fu' to have our 
 
 little cares, 
 An' I think we 'se doin' fus' rate w'en we 
 
 jes' go long and bears, 
 Widout breakin' up ouah faces in a sickly so't 
 
 o' grin, 
 
 W'en we knows dat in ouah innards we is 
 p'intly mad ez sin. 
 
 3 33 
 
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 Oh dey 's times fu' bein' pleasant an' fu' goin' 
 
 smilin' roun', 
 'Cause I don't believe in people allus totin' 
 
 roun' a frown, 
 But it 's easy 'nough to titter w'en de stew is 
 
 smokin' hot, 
 
 But hit 's mighty ha'd to giggle w'en dey 's 
 nuffin' in de pot. 
 
 
 
 35 
 
 

 
NOON 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 NOON 
 
 SHADDER in de valley 
 Sunlight on de hill, 
 Sut'ny wish dat locus' 
 Knowed how to be still. 
 Don't de heat already 
 Mek a body hum, 
 'Dout dat insec' sayin* 
 Hottah days to come? 
 
 Fiel' 's a shinin' yaller 
 Wid de bendin' grain, 
 Guinea hen a-callin', 
 Now 's de time fu' rain ; 
 Shet yo' mouf, you rascal, 
 Wha' 's de use to cry? 
 You do' see no rain clouds 
 Up dah in de sky. 
 
 Dis hyeah sweat 's been po'in' 
 Down my face sence dawn; 
 Ain't hit time we 's hyeahin' 
 Dat ah dinnah ho'n? 
 Go on, Ben an' Jaspah, 
 Lif yo' feet an' fly, 
 Hit out fu' de shadder 
 Fo' I drap an' die. 
 38 
 
 
 mmi 
 
Hongry, lawd a' mussy, 
 
 Hongry as a baih, 
 
 Seems lak I hyeah dinnah 
 
 Callin' evahwhaih; 
 
 Daih 's de ho'n a blowin' ! 
 
 Let dat cradle swin, 
 
 One mo' sweep, den da'kias, 
 
 Beat me to de spring! 
 
 39 
 
 
THE VOICE OF THE BANJO 
 

 
 m 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE BANJO 
 
 IN a small and lonely cabin out of noisy 
 traffic's way, 
 Sat an old man, bent and feeble, dusk of face, 
 
 and hair of gray, 
 And beside him on the table, battered, old, 
 
 and worn as he, 
 
 Lay a banjo, droning forth this reminiscent 
 melody : 
 
 " Night is closing in upon us, friend of mine, 
 
 but don't be sad; 
 Let us think of all the pleasures and the joys 
 
 that we have had. 
 Let us keep a merry visage, and be happy till 
 
 the last, 
 Let the future still be sweetened with the 
 
 honey of the past. 
 
 
 

 
 
 
1 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 " For I speak to you of summer nights upon 
 
 the yellow sand, 
 When the Southern moon was sailing high 
 
 and silvering all the land; 
 And if love tales were not sacred, there 's a tale 
 
 that I could tell 
 Of your many nightly wanderings with a dusk 
 
 and lovely belle. 
 
 " And I speak to you of care-free songs when 
 labour's hour was o'er, 
 
 And a woman waiting for your step outside 
 the cabin door, 
 
 And of something roly-poly that you took 
 upon your lap, 
 
 While you listened for the stumbling, hesitat- 
 ing words, ' Pap, pap.' 
 
 " I could tell you of a 'possum hunt across the 
 wooded grounds, 
 
 I could call to mind the sweetness of the bay- 
 ing of the hounds, 
 
 You could lift me up and smelling of the tim- 
 ber that 's in me, 
 
 Build again a whole green forest with the 
 mem'ry of a tree. 
 
 44 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
" So the future cannot hurt us while we keep 
 the past in mind, 
 
 What care I for trembling fingers, what care 
 you that you are blind? 
 
 Time may leave us poor and stranded, cir- 
 cumstance may make us bend; 
 
 But they '11 only find us mellower, won't they, 
 comrade? in the end." 
 
 45 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THE REAL QUESTION 
 
i 
 
 THE REAL QUESTION 
 
 FOLKS is talkin' 'bout de money, 'bout de 
 silvah an' de gold; 
 All de time de season's changin' an' de days 
 
 is gittin' cold. 
 An' dey 's wond'rin' 'bout de metals, whethah 
 
 we '11 have one er two. 
 While de price o' coal is risin' an' dey 's two 
 months' rent dat 's due. 
 
 Some folks says dat gold 's de only money dat 
 
 is wuff de name, 
 Den de othahs rise an' tell 'em dat dey ought 
 
 to be ashame, 
 An' dat silvah is de only thing to save us f'om 
 
 de powah 
 Of de gold-bug ragin' 'roun' an' seekin' who 
 
 he may devowah. 
 
 Well, you folks kin keep on shoutin' wif yo' 
 
 gold er silvah cry, 
 But I tell you people hams is sceerce an' fowls 
 
 is roostin' high. 
 An' hit ain't de so't o' money dat is pesterin' 
 
 my min', 
 But de question I want answehed 's how to 
 
 get at any kin'! 
 
 48 
 

AT NIGHT 
 
AT NIGHT 
 
 WHUT time'd dat clock strike? 
 Nine? No eight; 
 I did n't think hit was so late. 
 Aer chew! I must 'a' got a cough, 
 I raally b'lieve I did doze off 
 Hit 's mighty soothin' to de tiah, 
 A-dozin' dis way by de fiah; 
 
 00 oom hit feels so good to stretch; 
 
 1 sutny is one weary wretch! 
 
 Look hyeah, dat boy done gone to sleep! 
 He des ain't wo'th his boa'd an' keep; 
 I des don't b'lieve he 'd bat his eyes 
 If Gab'el called him fo'm de skies! 
 But sleepin' 's good dey ain't no doubt 
 Dis pipe o' mine is done gone out. 
 Don't bu'n a minute, bless my soul, 
 Des please to han' me dat ah coal. 
 
 You 'Lias git up now, my son, 
 Seems lak my nap is des begun; 
 You sutny mus' ma'k down de day 
 Wen I treats comp'ny dis away! 
 W'y, Brother Jones, dat drowse come on, 
 An' laws! I dremp dat you was gone! 
 You 'Lias, whaih yo' mannahs, suh, 
 To hyeah me call an' nevah stuh! 
 52 
 
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 To-morrer mo'nin' w'en I call, 
 Dat boy '11 be sleepin' to beat all, 
 Don't mek no diffunce how I roah, 
 He '11 des lay up an' sno', an' sno'. 
 Now, boy, you done hyeahed whut I said,. 
 You bettah tek yo'se'f yo' baid, 
 Case ef you gits me good an' wrong 
 I '11 mek dat sno' a diffunt song. 
 
 Dis wood fiah is invitin, dho', 
 
 Hit seems to wa'm de ve'y flo' 
 
 An' nuffin' ain't a whit ez sweet 
 
 Ez settin' toastin' of yo' feet. 
 
 Hit mek you drowsy, too, but la! 
 
 Hyeah, 'Lias, don't you hyeah yo' ma? 
 
 Ef I gits sta'ted f'om dis cheah 
 
 I' lay, you scamp, I'll mek you heah! 
 
 sJ^5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 M 
 
 
 
 
S3 
 
 To-morrer mo'nin' I kin bawl 
 Twell all de neighbohs hyeah me call; 
 An' you'll be snoozin' des ez deep 
 Ez if de day was made fu' sleep; 
 Hit 's funny when you got a cough 
 Somehow yo' voice seems too fu' off 
 Can't wake dat boy fu' all I say, 
 I reckon he '11 sleep daih 'twell day ! 
 
 ^ 
 
 55 
 
 
Hi 
 
 
TEMPTATION 
 
 

 TEMPTATION 
 
 I DONE got 'uligion, honey, an* I 's happy 
 ez a king; 
 Evahthing I see erbout me 's jes' lak sunshine 
 
 in de spring; 
 An* it seems lak I do' want to do anothah 
 
 blessid thing 
 
 But jes' run an' tell de neighbours, an' to shout 
 an' pray an' sing. 
 
 I done shuk my fis' at Satan, an' I 's gin de 
 
 worT my back; 
 I do' want no hendrin' causes now a-both'rin' 
 
 in my track; 
 Fu' I 's on my way to glory, an' I feels too sho' 
 
 to miss. 
 W'y, dey ain't no use in sinnin' when 'uligion 's 
 
 sweet ez dis. 
 
 Talk erbout a man backslidin' w'en he 's on 
 de gospel way; 
 
 No, suh, I done beat de debbil, an' Tempta- 
 tion 's los' de day. 
 
 Gwine to keep my eyes right straight up, gwine 
 to shet my eahs, an' see 
 
 Whut ole projick Mistah Satan 's gwine to try 
 to wuk on me. 
 
 58 
 

 
 
 
 
 Listen, whut dat soun' I hyeah dah? 'tain't no 
 
 one commence to sing; 
 It 's a fiddle ; git erway dah ! don' you hyeah 
 
 dat blessid thing? 
 W'y, dat 's sweet ez drippin' honey, 'cause, you 
 
 knows, I draws de bow, 
 An* when music 's sho' 'nough music, I 's de 
 
 one dat 's sho' to know. 
 
 W'y I 's done de double shuffle, 'twell a body 
 
 could n't res', 
 Jes' a-hyeahin' Sam de fiddlah play dat chune 
 
 his level bes'; 
 I could cut a mighty caper, I could gin a 
 
 mighty fling 
 Jes' right now, I 's mo' dan suttain I could 
 
 cut de pigeon wing. 
 
JJ'iLl 
 
 
 Look hyeah, whut 's dis I 's been sayin'? whut 
 
 on urf's tuk holt o' me? 
 Dat ole music come nigh runnin' my 'uligion 
 
 up a tree! 
 Cleah out wif dat dah ole fiddle, don* you try 
 
 dat trick agin; 
 Didn't think I could be tempted, but you lak 
 
 to made me sin! 
 
 
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SPRING FEVER 
 
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 SPRING FEVER 
 
 GRASS commence a-comin' 
 Thoo de thawin' groun', 
 Evah bird dat whistles 
 Keepin' noise erroun'; 
 Cain't sleep in de mo'nin', 
 
 Case befo' it's light 
 Bluebird an' de robin 
 Done begun to fight. 
 
 Bluebird sass de robin, 
 
 Robin sass him back, 
 Den de bluebird scol' him 
 
 'Twell his face is black. 
 Would n' min' de quoilin' 
 
 All de mo'nin' long, 
 'Cept it wakes me early, 
 
 Case hit's done in song. 
 
 Anybody wo'kin 
 
 Wants to sleep ez late 
 Ez de folks '11 'low him, 
 
 An' I wish to state 
 (Co'se dis ain't to scattah, 
 
 But 'twix' me an' you), 
 I could stan' de bedclothes, 
 
 Kin' o' latah, too. 
 65 
 
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 'T ain't my natchul feelin', 
 
 Dis hyeah mopin' spell. 
 I Stan's early risin' 
 
 Mos'ly moughty well; 
 But de ve'y minute 
 
 I feel Ap'il's heat, 
 Bless yo' soul, de bedclothes 
 
 Nevah seemed so sweet. 
 
 Mastah, he 's a-scol'in', 
 
 Case de han's is slow, 
 All de hosses balkin', 
 
 Jes' cain't mek 'em go. 
 Don' know whut 's de mattah, 
 
 Hit 's a funny t'ing, 
 Less'n hit 's de fevah 
 
 Dat you gits in spring. 
 
m 
 
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 1 
 
 
 H 
 

 
 
A LITTLE CHRISTMAS BASKET 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 DE win' is hollahin' " Daih you " to de shut- 
 tahs an' de fiah, 
 
 De snow 's a-sayin' " Got you " to de groun', 
 Fu' de wintah weathah 's come widout a-askin' 
 
 ouah desiah, 
 
 An' he 's laughin' in his sleeve at whut he 
 foun' ; 
 
 Fu' dey ain't nobody ready wid dey fuel er dey 
 
 food, 
 
 An' de money bag look timid lak, fu' sho', 
 So we want ouah Chrismus sermon, but we 'd 
 
 lak it ef you could 
 Leave a little Chrismus basket at de do'. 
 
 Wha's de use o' tellin' chillen 'bout a Santy er 
 
 a Nick, 
 
 An' de sto'ies dat a body allus tol'? 
 When de harf is gray wid ashes an' you has n't 
 
 got a stick 
 Fu' to warm dem when dey little toes is col'? 
 
'T ain't de time to open Bibles an' to lock yo' 
 
 cellah do', 
 
 'T ain't de time to talk o' bein' good to men ; 
 Ef you want to preach a sermon ez you nevah 
 
 preached befo', 
 
 Preach dat sermon wid a shoat er wid er hen ; 
 Bein' good is heap sight bettah den a-dallyin' 
 
 wid sin, 
 
 An' dey ain't nobody roun' dat knows it mo', 
 But I t'ink dat 'ligion 's sweeter w'en it kind o' 
 
 mixes in 
 Wid a little Chrismus basket at de do'. 
 
 Wha 's de use o' preachin' 'ligion to a man dat 's 
 
 sta'ved to def, 
 
 rTtf-v** 1 ^^ f jr*'**** * * 
 An' a-tellin' him de Mastah will pu'vide? 
 
 Ef you want to tech his feelin's, save yo' ser- 
 mons an' yo' bref, 
 Tek a little Chrismus basket by yo' side. 
 
AN ANTI-BELLUM SERMON 
 
 

 
 

 
 
 
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 1 
 
 AN ANTE-BELLUM SERMON 
 
 WE is gathahed hyeah, my brothahs, 
 In dis howlin' wildaness, 
 Fu' to speak some words of comfo't 
 
 To each othah in distress. 
 An' we chooses fu' ouah subjic' 
 
 Dis we '11 'splain it by an' by ; 
 " An' de Lawd said, * Moses, Moses,' 
 An' de man said, ' Hyeah am I.' " 
 
 Now ole Pher'oh, down in Egypt, 
 
 Was de wuss man evah bo'n, 
 An' he had de Hebrew chillun 
 
 Down dah wukin' in his co'n; 
 'Twell de Lawd got tiahed o' his foolin', 
 
 An' sez he : "I '11 let him know 
 Look hyeah, Moses, go tell Pher'oh 
 
 Fu' to let dem chillun go." 
 
 ' An' ef he refuse to do it, 
 
 I will make him rue de houah, 
 Fu' I '11 empty down on Egypt 
 
 All de vials of my powah." 
 Yes, he did an' Pher'oh's ahmy 
 
 Was n't wuth a ha'f a dime ; 
 Fu' de Lawd will he'p his chillun, 
 
 You kin trust him evah time. 
 
 75 
 
 

 An* yo' enemies may 'sail you 
 In de back an' in de front; 
 But de Lawd is 
 
 shackles 
 
 ill aroun yo 
 a' de battle's brunt, 
 'ge yo' chains 
 mountains to de sea; 
 But de Lawd will sen' some Moses 
 chillun free. 
 
 Fu' to 
 Dey kin 
 F'om c 
 
 Fu' to 
 
An' de Ian' shall hyeah his thundah, 
 
 Lak a bias' f'om Gab'el's ho'n, 
 Fu' de Lawd of hosts is mighty 
 
 When he girds his ahmor on. 
 But fu' feah some one mistakes me, 
 
 I will pause right hyeah to say, 
 Dat I 'm still a-preachin' ancient, 
 
 I ain't talkin' 'bout to-day. 
 

 
 
 
 
But I tell you, fellah christuns, 
 
 Things '11 happen mighty strange ; 
 Now, de Lawd done dis fu' Isrul, 
 
 An* his ways don't nevah change, 
 An' de love he showed to Isrul 
 
 Was n't all on Isrul spent ; 
 Now don't run an' tell yo' mastahs 
 
 Dat I 's preachin' .discontent. 
 
 'Cause I is n't ; I 'se a-judgin' 
 
 Bible people by deir ac's; 
 I 'se a-givin' you de Scriptuah, 
 
 I 'se a-handin' you de fac's. 
 Cose ole Pher'oh b'lieved in slav'ry, 
 
 But de Lawd he let him see, 
 Dat de people he put bref in, 
 
 Evah mothah's son was free. 
 
 An' dahs othahs thinks lak Pher'oh, 
 
 But dey calls de Scriptuah liar, 
 Fu' de Bible says " a servant 
 
 Is a-worthy of his hire." 
 An* you cain't git roun' nor thoo dat, 
 
 An' you cain't git ovah it, 
 Fu' whatevah place you git in, 
 
 Dis hyeah Bible too '11 fit. 
 
 79 
 

 
 
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 ! 
 
 
 
 

 So you see de Lawd's intention, 
 
 Evah sence de worl' began, 
 Was dat His almighty freedom 
 
 Should belong to evah man, 
 But I think it would be bettah, 
 
 Ef I 'd pause agin to say, 
 Dat I 'm talkin' 'bout ouah freedom 
 
 In a Bibleistic way. 
 
 But de Moses is a-comin', 
 
 An' he 's comin' suah and fas'. 
 We kin hyeah his feet a-trompin', 
 
 We kin hyeah his trumpit bias'. 
 But I want to wa'n you people, 
 
 Don't you git too frigity; 
 An' don't you git to braggin' 
 
 'Bout dese things, you wait an' see. 
 
 But when Moses wif his powah 
 
 Comes an' sets us chillun free, 
 We will praise de gracious Mastah 
 
 Dat has gin us liberty; 
 An' we '11 shout ouah halleluyahs, 
 
 On dat mighty reck'nin' day, 
 When we 'se reco'nised ez citiz' 
 
 Huh uh! Chillun, let us pray! 
 
 
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A FROLIC 
 

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 A FROLIC 
 
 SWING yo' lady roun' an' roun', 
 Do de bes' you know; 
 Mek yo' bow an* p'omenade 
 
 Up an' down de flo'; 
 Mek dat banjo hump huhse'f, 
 
 Listen at huh talk: 
 Mastah gone to town to-night; 
 'T ain't no time to walk. 
 
 Lif yo' feet an' flutter thoo, 
 
 Run, Miss Lucy, run; 
 Reckon you '11 be kotched an' kissed 
 
 'Fo' de night is done. 
 You don't need to be so proud 
 
 I 's a-watchin' you, 
 An' I 's layin' lots o' plans 
 
 Fu' to git you, too. 
 
 Moonlight on de cotton-fiel' 
 
 Shinin' sof, an' white, 
 Whippo'will a-tellin' tales 
 
 Out thaih in de night; 
 An' yo' cabin 's 'crost de lot : 
 
 Run, Miss Lucy, run; 
 Reckon you '11 be kotched an' kissed 
 
 'Fo' de night is done. 
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A PLANTATION MELODY 
 
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 A PLANTATION MELODY 
 
 trees is bendin' in de sto'm, 
 De rain done hid de mountain's fo'm, 
 I 's 'lone an' in distress. 
 But listen, dah 's a voice I hyeah, 
 A-sayin' to me, loud an' cleah, 
 " Lay low in de wildaness." 
 
 De lightnin' flash, de bough sway low, 
 My po' sick hea't is trimblin' so, 
 
 It hu'ts my very breas'. 
 But him dat give de lightnin' powah 
 Jes' bids me in de tryin' howah 
 
 " Lay low in de wildaness." 
 
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 O brothah, w'en de tempes' beat, 
 An' w'en yo' weary head an' feet 
 
 Can't fin' no place to res', 
 Jes' 'membah dat de Mastah 's nigh, 
 An* putty soon you '11 hyeah de cry, 
 
 " Lay low in de wildaness." 
 
 O sistah, w'en de rain come down, 
 An' all yo' hopes is 'bout to drown, 
 
 Don't trus' de Mastah less. 
 He smilin' w'en you t'ink he frown, 
 He ain' gwine let yo' soul sink down 
 
 Lay low in de wildaness. 
 
 
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JILTED 
 

 LUCY done gone back on me, 
 Dat 's de way wif life. 
 Evaht'ing was movin' free, 
 
 T'ought I had my wife. 
 Den some dahky comes along, 
 Sings my gal a little song, 
 Since den, evaht'ing 's gone wrong, 
 Evah day dey 's strife. 
 
 Did n't answeh me to-day, 
 
 Wen I called huh name, 
 Would you t'ink she 'd ac' dat way 
 
 Wen I ain't to blarne? 
 Dat 's de way dese v/omen do, 
 Wen dey fin's a fellow true, 
 Den dey 'buse him thoo an' thoo; 
 
 Well, hit's all de same. 
 92 
 
 
 
Somep'n 's wrong erbout my lung, 
 
 An' I 's glad hit 's so. 
 Doctah says 'at I '11 die young, 
 
 Well, I wants to go! 
 Whut 's de use o' livin' hyeah, 
 Wen de gal you loves so deah 
 Goes back on you clean an' cleah 
 
 I sh'd like to know? 
 
 
 93 
 
 
 
 
A CABIN TALE 
 

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 A CABIN TALE 
 
 THE YOUNG MASTER ASKS FOR A STORY 
 
 WHUT you say, dah? huh, uh! chile, 
 You 's enough to dribe me wile. 
 Want a sto'y! jes' hyeah dat! 
 Whah' '11 I git a sto'y at? 
 Di'n' I tell you th'ee las' night? 
 Go 'way, honey, you ain't right. 
 I got somep'n' else to do 
 'Cides jes' tellin' tales to you. 
 Tell you jes' one? Lem me see 
 Whut dat one 's a-gwine to be. 
 When you 's ole yo' membry fails ; 
 Seems lak I do' know no tales. 
 Well, set down dah in dat cheer, 
 Keep still ef you wants to hyeah. 
 Tek dat chin up off yo' han's, 
 Set up nice now. Goodness lan's! 
 Hoi' yo'se'f up lak yo' pa. 
 Bet nobidy evah saw 
 
 Him scrunched down lak you was den 
 High-tone boys meks high-tone men. 
 
 Once dey was a ole black bah, 
 Used to live 'roun' hyeah somewhah 
 In a cave. He was so big 
 He could ca'y off a pig 
 Lak you picks a chicken up, 
 Er yo' leetles' bit o' pup. 
 An' he had two gread big eyes, 
 Jes' erbout a saucer's size. 
 
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 Why, dey looked lak balls o' fiah 
 Jumpin' 'roun' erpon a wiah 
 W'en dat bah was mad; an' laws! 
 But you ought to seen his paws! 
 Did I see 'em? How you 'spec 
 I 's a-gwine to ricollec' 
 Dis hyeah ya'n I 's try'n' to spin 
 Ef you keeps on puttin' in? 
 You keep still an' don't you cheep 
 Less I '11 sen' you off to sleep. 
 Dis hyeah bah 'd go trompin' 'roun' 
 Eatin' evahthing he foun'; 
 No one could n't have a fa'm 
 But dat bah 'u'd do 'em ha'm; 
 And dey could n't ketch de scamp. 
 Anywhah he wan'ed to tramp, 
 Dah de scoun'el 'd mek his track, 
 Do his dut' an' come on back. 
 He was sich a sly ole limb, 
 Traps was jes' lak fun to him. 
 
 Now, down neah whah Mistah Bah 
 Lived, dey was a weasel dah; 
 But dey wasn't fren's a-tall 
 Case de weasel was so small. 
 An' de bah 'u'd, jes' fu' sass, 
 Tu'n his nose up w'en he 'd pass. 
 Weasels 's small o' cose, but my ! 
 Dem air animiles is sly. 
 So dis hyeah one says, says he, 
 "I'll jes' fix dat bah, you see." 
 
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 So he fixes up his plan 
 
 An* hunts up de fa'merman. 
 
 When de fa'mer see him come, 
 
 He 'mence lookin' mighty glum, 
 
 An' he ketches up a stick; 
 
 But de weasel speak up quick: 
 
 " Hoi' on, Mistah Fa'merman, 
 
 I wan' 'splain a little plan. 
 
 Ef you waits, I '11 tell you whah 
 
 An' jes' how to ketch ol' Bah. 
 
 But I tell you now you mus* 
 
 Gin me one fat chicken fus'." 
 
 Den de man he scratch his haid, 
 
 Las' he say, " I '11 mek de trade." 
 
 So de weasel et his hen, 
 
 Smacked his mouf and says, " Well, den, 
 
 Set yo' trap an' bait ternight, 
 
 An' I'll ketch de bah all right." 
 
 Den he ups an' goes to see 
 
 Mistah Bah, an' says, says he: 
 
 " Well, fren Bah, we ain't been fren's, 
 
 But ternight ha'd feelin' en's. 
 
 Ef you ain't too proud to steal, 
 
 We kin git a splendid meal. 
 
 Cose I would n't come to you, 
 
 But it mus' be done by two; 
 
 Hit's a trap, but we kin beat 
 
 All dey tricks an' git de meat." 
 
 " Cose I 's wif you," says de bah, 
 
 " Come on, Weasel, show me whah." 
 
 Well, dey trots erlong ontwell 
 

 

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 Dat air meat beginned to smell 
 In de trap. Den weasel say: 
 " Now you put yo' paw dis way 
 While I hoi' de spring back so, 
 Den you grab de meat an' go." 
 Well, de bah he had to grin 
 Ez he put his big paw in, 
 Den he juked up, but kerbing! 
 Weasel done let go de spring. 
 " Dah now," says de weasel, " dah, 
 I done cotched you, Mistah Bah ! " 
 O, dat bah did sno't and spout, 
 Try'n' his bestes' to git out, 
 But de weasel say, " Goo'-bye ! 
 Weasel small, but weasel sly." 
 Den he tu'ned his back an' run 
 Tol' de fa'mer whut he done. 
 So de fa'mer come down dah, 
 Wif a axe and killed de bah. 
 
 Dah now, ain't dat sto'y fine? 
 Run erlong now, nevah min'. 
 Want some mo', you rascal, you? 
 No, suh ! no, suh ! dat '11 do. 
 
 

 
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 WHOSE little lady is you, chile, 
 Whose little gal is you? 
 What's de use o' kiver'n up yo' face? 
 
 Chile, dat ain't de way to do. 
 Lemme see yo' little eyes, 
 
 Tek yo' little han's down nice, 
 Lawd, you wuff a million bills, 
 Huh uh, chile, dat ain't yo' price. 
 
 Honey, de money ain't been made 
 
 Dat dey could pay fu' you; 
 'T ain't no use a-biddin' ; you too high 
 
 Fu' de riches' Jap er Jew. 
 Lemme see you smilin' now, 
 
 How dem teef o' yo'n do shine, 
 An' de t'ing dat meks me laff 
 
 Is dat all o' you is mine. 
 
 How's I gwine to tell you how I feel, 
 How's I gwine to weigh yo' wuff? 
 
 Oh, you sholy is de sweetes' t'ing 
 Walkin' on dis blessed earf. 
 
 Possum is de sweetes' meat, 
 Cidah is de nices' drink, 
 
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 Is de bes' of all, I t'ink. 
 
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 Talk erbout 'uligion he'pin' folks 
 
 All thoo de way o' life, 
 Gin de res' 'uligion, des' gin me 
 
 You, my little lady-wife. 
 Den de days kin come all ha'd, 
 
 Den de nights kin come all black, 
 Des' you tek me by de han', 
 
 An' I '11 stumble on de track. 
 
 Stumble on de way to Gawd, my chile, 
 
 Stumble on, an' mebbe fall; 
 But I '11 keep a-trottin', while you lead on, 
 
 Pickin' an' a-trottin', dat 's all. 
 Hoi' me mighty tight, dough, chile, 
 
 Fu' hit 's rough an' rocky Ian', 
 Heaben 's at de en', I know, 
 
 So I 's leanin' on yo' han'. 
 
 
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 YES, my ha't 's ez ha'd ez stone 
 Go 'way, Sam, an' lemme 'lone. 
 No ; I ain't gwine change my min' 
 Ain't gwine ma'y you nuffin' de kin'. 
 
 Phiny loves you true an' deah? 
 Go ma'y Phiny; whut I keer? 
 Oh, you need n't mou'n an' cry 
 I don't keer how soon you die. 
 
 Got a present! Whut you got? 
 Somef'n fu' de pan er pot! 
 Huh! yo' sass do sholy beat 
 Think I don't git 'nough to eat? 
 
 
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 Whut's dat un'neaf yo' coat? 
 Looks des lak a little shoat. 
 'T ain't no possum! Bless de Lamb! 
 Yes, it is, you rascal, Sam! 
 
 Gin it to me; whut you say? 
 Ain't you sma't now! Oh, go 'way! 
 Possum do look mighty nice, 
 But you ax too big a price. 
 
 Tell me, is you talkin' true, 
 
 Dat 's de gal's whut ma'ies you? 
 
 Come back, Sam; now whah 's you gwine? 
 
 Co'se you knows dat possum 's mine ! 
 
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 YEAH come Caesar Higgins, 
 
 Don't he think he's fine? 
 Look at dem new riggin's, 
 Ain't he tryin' to shine? 
 Got a standin' collar 
 An' a stove-pipe hat, 
 I '11 jes' bet a dollar 
 Some one gin him dat. 
 
 Don't one o' you mention, 
 Nothin' 'bout his cloes, 
 Don't pay no attention, 
 Er let on you knows 
 Dat he 's got 'em on him, 
 Why, 't '11 mek him sick, 
 Jes go on an' sco'n him, 
 My, ain't dis a trick! 
 
 Look hyeah, whut 's he doin* 
 Lookin' t' othah way? 
 Dat ere move 's a new one, 
 Some one call him, "Say?" 
 Can't you see no pusson 
 Puttin' on you' airs, 
 Sakes alive, you 's wuss'n 
 Dese hyeah millionaires. 
 
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 Need n't git so flighty, 
 
 Case you got dat suit. 
 
 Dem does ain't so mighty, 
 
 Second hand to boot, 
 
 I 's a-tryin' to spite you ! 
 
 Full of jealousy! 
 
 Look hyeah, man, I '11 fight you, 
 
 Don't you fool wid me ! 
 
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