And de Quarter folks tried to raise corn And our mules gone pullin' de guns, And de ole ways is mos' wo' out: Young folks, and new ways, and new warsWonder what dis new war is about: Never heard of no Spanyards in my timeDe Lord must have made 'em sence! In Cuba? Freein' mo' niggers? Dar's enough on dis side er de fence A passel er skittish, free darkeys What won't let de ole folks larn 'em sense. AT THE GREAT HOUSE Marcy me! What's dat on de tower? A Yankee flag des as sho' as I'm born! Right heah in dis high, rustlin' corn- Gracious me! What else is dey done? I 'spec' neither man nor mouse Is left-not nairy a one! Is you crep' up and took a nigh look, Lum? Des tell de ole man what you see Ole Marse and ole Miss on de gallery, As easy as easy can be? Don' tell me; Is dat flag a-flyin' What I think dat I think I see? Yas. And Lewis, you say dat Marse Tom Is you tryin' to fool yo' gran'daddy, Well, come and le's go 'long and see WHEN HE SEES HIS YOUNG MASTER Didn' I teach you to ride! You-Sonny! And to think you done been to de wars! Yit dese arms can clarsp you onct mo’ Bless de Lord for dis day, little massa! My soul, boy-De brass and de buttons- Don't you know how us cried when us fold 'em? Come heah! Boy! Tell me what is you done done? Is I done load yo' fust musket For you to be feared of a gun? Huh! You laughin' at dis ole nigger? Den tell me what all er dis mean, 'Caze dat flag and dese cloze is de beatenes' Things my ole eyes even seen. You say dat you follered Joe Wheeler To de rifle pits down in Caney? And you say Wheeler rallied 'em on And won de whole glorious day! Now, boy, dat talkin' sound good In de good ole-fashion way. But you say Wheeler rallied his men. Round dat flag, and led men from New York? Den I sholy believe my senses Des call it de "late onpleasantness”- But you ca'n't 'spec' a stupid ole nigger Whar dey eats des butter and honey MISTER FROG'S NOTE OF REGRET From 'Fifty Folk-lore Fables.' Copyright, and used here by permission of the author. MISTER FROG he been long time studyin' dat he ought to git married. Evenin's mighty long and lonesome him settin' on a mossy log on de side er de stream. D'rectly he 'gun to speak 'bout it sholy was wrong to put off gittin' married so long and he say: 'S wrong S' long 'S wrong! All the little frogs hearin' Mister Frog say dat he is done. wrong for to put off gittin' married so long, dey give him de answer: Yas 'tis! Yas 'tis! Dey keep up sech a 'larmment dat dey git Mister Frog. 'sturbed in his mind and he collude dat he'll ax de nex' thing dat come along to marry him, and he couldn't a-done no better 'caze de nex' thing he seed comin' was a little bit er brown bird, one des as bright as a mustee gal wid mollyglaster hair. No sooner did Mister Frog ax dat little bit er brown bird. would she marry him dan dat little brown bird give him de answer: Yes, I will! Yes, I will! Den de Frog and de Whip-po'-will dey was engaged to be married, and de whole plantation knowed it. But Mister Frog he been so long time bachelor dat he don't like to set de weddin' day. Ever' time Miss Whip-po'will ax Mister Frog when is dey gwine to git married Mister Frog he say: Le's put 't off Le's put 't off Twel you come from de Norf! Den Miss Whip-po'-will she go to de Norf, what she do stay de most portion part of de year. Soon as she come back she go to de swamp edge and she ax Mister Frog ag'in when is dey gwine set de weddin' day and Mister Frog he 'low ag'in : Le's put't off! Le's put't off! Den Miss Whip-po'-will ax him: How long is he gwine put off de weddin' day. Mister Frog he give her de answer: Ten. Ten. Ten. He don't say if he mean ten year or ten mont' or ten days or ten minutes, or what. Den Miss Whip-po'-will she git mad and she 'buse Mister Frog, and she 'fuse Mister Frog, and she say she lucky to loose Mister Frog. Now ever' Spring er de year when Mister Frog study 'bout how nigh he come to marryin' dat nice little bit er brown bird he set on a mossy log on de side er de creek and he say to hisse'f: Oh, I wish dat I had! Oh, I wish dat I had! Miss Whip-po'-will she flirt her wing and she fly higher up de woods slope and she say: Well! You could, But you wouldn't! Well! You could, But you wouldn't! Ever' Spring er de year you hear dem two at dat: Oh, I wish dat I had! Oh, I wish dat I had! And Miss Whip-po'-will answer him back: Well! You could, But you wouldn't! HOW RED BIRD WON HIS COLOR From 'Fifty Folk-lore Fables.' Copyright, and used here by permission of the author. AWAY back days de red bird was as plain a color grey as de dove is to-day. He could hide hisse'f den des as commodious in de dry grass as any grey bird can to-day, he wa'n't dem days no sech a fire-red, red-rose bird as he is now, mo'n dat he wa'h't den sech a love-sign-bird as he is now. How is he a love-sign-bird? Dis how: If a gal see a red bird and don't make no 'miration 'bout she see him den dat gal gwine sho see her true love 'fo' next incomin' Saddy night. One long time ago in bird matin' season Mister Red Bird done choose hisse'f a mate, little grey bird des like hisse'f. Him and her was singin' in de deep woods, singin' together, flyin' apart and den singin' together ag'in like birds does do, when dey heard sech a runnin' and breakin' th'oo de bushes. Mister Red Bird he fly for to see what can de matter be. Dar in de deep woods he see Br'er Deer des runnin', he done des done pull his head out de honey hole whar Br'er Rabbit done fool him to stick it, and dar go Br'er Deer th'oo de wile woods, ain't see whar he gwine, his face all skint and red and raw and a-drippin' blood. Mister Red Bird he got a mighty trimblin', tender heart and he feel so 'stressous for Br'er Deer dat he fly right up to him, and right up and down Br'er Deer's bleedin' face he fly, wipin' de blood offer Br'er Deer's face wid his wings. Up and down he flutter, wipin' Br'er Deer's face twel he git de blood stanch same as if Br'er Deer's face been wipe off wid cob-webs. Blood don't drip in Br'er Deer's eyes no mo' and Br'er Deer he can |