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NEGRO FOLK RHYMES |
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I tuck him home an' dressed him
off, Dat night I laid him in de fros'. De way I cooked dat 'possum
sound, I fust parboiled, den baked him
brown. I put sweet taters in de pan, 'Twus de bigges' eatin' in de Ian'.
DEVILISH PIGS
I wish I had a load o' poles,
To fence my new-groun' lot;
To keep dem liddle bitsy debblish pigs
Frum a-rootin' up all I'se got.
Dey roots my cabbage, roots my co'n; Dey roots up all my beans. Dey speilt my fine sweet-tater patch, An' dey ruint my tunnup greens.
I'se rund dem pigs, an' I'se rund dem
pigs. I'se gittin' mighty hot; An' one dese days w'en nobody look, Dey'll root 'round in my pot.
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