Darkey Ways in Dixie Part 8

Dey laugh at his hat en dey laugh at his tie, En dey say: "Will you 'low us ter see you go by?"

En sho wid sich nonsinse dat n.i.g.g.e.r dey try, When John go ter walk wid his gal.

"Oh, shet up!" I tell 'em, "en dat right away,-- I know what's de matter, now heah what I say; You's ebry one jealous, you sho is, ter-day, Kaze John gone ter walk wid his gal!"

"Cunjud."

Frow fish salt out on de gra.s.s Ebrywhar dat man done pa.s.s, En be quick; Scatter it all roun' de do', Else somebody heah, fo' sho, Gwine be sick.

He done cunjur' me, you know, One time long en long ago, 'Fo'e you bo'n; En it ain't fo' good ter-day Dat he stop by heah dat way, Den pa.s.s on.

Dat de way he done befo', En wid fever laid me low In de bed.

Go en spread de salt all roun'

'Fo'e we bofe am lyin' down, Sick or dead.

Uncle Ben's Superst.i.tion.

Oh, please, Missus, don't as' dat!

Is you neber heah it sed Him dat plants a holly tree Sho gwine lie down, stiff en dead, Soon's dat tree grow big en high 'Nough ter shade him whar he lie?

I ain't sca'ed ob death, not me!

I's bin baptized in de creek, En in big experience meetin's I does rise sometimes ter speak; But I don't tempt Providence;-- 'Tis a act ob wickedness.

"How ter git it planted, den?"

Ain't got time, yo'se'f, you say?

Lis'n, mum, en I will tell you What's, fo' true, de only way, 'Th'out you hab somebody die Soon's dat tree grow big en high:

Put a seed somewhar out do's, So de win' will blow it down Des whar you would hab it planted, On a nice, sof' bit ob groun'.

Dar it will take root en grow; I is tried it, en I know.

But ter put de seed in groun', Or ter plant dar de young tree, Am sho temptin' Providence-- En it ain't bin done by me; Dat am how I'm heah ter-day Ter teach ole Missus de right way.

Wid de Witches.

When I hab ter go ter bed, I sho civer up my head, Kaze I allers mighty sca'ed Dat de witches come at night.

Dey does come sometimes, you know, En wid dem you got ter go, Ridin' fas' or ridin' slow, When dey come fo' you at night.

I does try my bes' ter shriek, But my voice git low en weak, En I shake so I cain't speak When de witches come at night.

Oh, dey tote you up so high Till you neahly touch de sky, En you sca'ed mos' 'nough ter die When you ride wid dem at night.

"You des dream dat," Missus say, But she don't fool me ter-day!

I done bin too fur away Wid dem witches des las' night.

A Restless Spirit.

"Don't b'I'eve in hants?" Well, dat des show Dat you cartin neber know 'Bout dat big house on de hill, Whar a sperit walk at night When de dark done quench de light, En de worl' am calm en still.

"Who lib dar?" Well, gracious me!

You won't as' dat when you see Dat ghos' walkin' roun' de place; Ghos' dat allers kneels en prays Under dem magnolia trees, Wid a sad en longin' face.

Once, dey say, a sweet bride come Frum her fur-off northern home, Ter dis lan' ob flow'rs en song; En she love de birds en bees Hummin' 'roun' dem fragrant trees, En wus happy all day long.

Dar she go mos' ebry day When de noon-sun shine dat way, Waitin' fo' her man ter come; En when evenin' light grow dim Dar she go ter watch fo' him Ter come back ter dat glad home.

En dey walk dar, des dem two, When de stars am peepin' frue Leaves ob dem magnolia trees; En dey bofe am glad ob heart Des kaze dey don't walk apart, En am kiss by dat same breeze.

When one day dat man come home, He don't see his young wife come Out ter meet him on de lawn; She took sick, de people say, En her spirit pa.s.s away 'Fo'e de little baby bo'n.

Den her mammy write en say: "Fetch en bury her, we pray, By her sisters heah at home."

So she lie dar in de col', Whar de win's am strong en bol', Waitin' fo' de kingdom come.

But her sperit walk at night, When de dark done quench de light, Under dem magnolia trees; En she stop dar en kneel down Wid her white dress floatin' roun'

In de gentle, sighin' breeze.

Oh, my heart ache in my breas'

Fo' dat sperit cravin' res'!

En I know it would fin' ease If dey bring dem bones some day Ter de south, en let 'em lay Under dem magnolia trees.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "On de Chain Gang."]

Pardoned.

Ike wus workin' on de chain gang Ebry day till set ob sun, Kaze he bin took up fo' somethin'

Dat he neber orter done.

En he ketch de quick consumption Workin' in de col' en rain, En he say if dey des free him He won't do so bad agin.

Den his white frien's write a letter Dat dey as' us all ter sign, Sayin': "Ike am weak en sickly, En he mus' be treated kin'."

Sayin': "He cain't lib much longer, En we hope you let him come Back ter dem dat am his people, So he pa.s.s away at home."

En we des keep waiting', waitin', Till a letter come at las', Sayin' dat de gov'nor glad He kin grant us what we as'.

When we carry Ike dat message, Ho don't heah us what we say, Kaze de Lawd done come en call him, En his soul done pa.s.s away.

THE END