Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/72

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W'Y DE BLACK FOLKS AM SO GOOD
Dere's some w'at says dat de Lawd wuz outW'en nigger folks wuz made.De debil he come roun' at duskA-shamblin' thoo de shade.He hed a bucket full o' tarHe'd toted fom below,En' he melt it wid a red-hot star'Til he hed it bile' des so.He went to wo'k en' made a manDe spittin' twin o' paw,Den sot a 'ooman long besidePrezackly lak yer maw.He lef' 'em des outside de gate,En w'en de Lawd come homeHe seed 'em, peart an' biggetty,A-peerin' thoo de gloam.Sezee, "Dat debil's at 'is tricks;I'll stir up one myse'f."So He ups en' blows on bofe on 'em'Til he chocked 'em full o' bref."Now scoot!" sezee, en' off dey scampsA-chasin' Brudder Nick,Who, w'en he seed 'em at 'is heels,Begun ter holler quick:"Oh, mercy, Lawd, dear Mistah Lawd!I is de fooly one.I mek You sech a fine suppriseEn' dis am w'at You done!Oh, lawsy massy! call 'em off!Don' sic 'em at mah tail!"Den hippety-fetchity on he humpsEn' leab a cinder trail. .De Lawd He call dem niggers back,Den laff Hisse'f plum sick."Lib on," sezee, "en' multerply,En' keep on skeerin' Nick."En' dat's de w'y ob ev'yt'ing,

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