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NEGRO FOLK RHYMES |
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Jes go round w'en de night's sorter dark,
An' dem chickens, dey can't see.
Be shore dat de bad dog's all tied up,
Den slip right close to de tree.
Now retch out yo' han' an' pull 'im in,
Den run lak a William goat;
An' if he holler, squeeze 'is neck,
An' shove 'im un'er yo' coat.
Bake dat Chicken pie! It's mighty hard to wait When you see dat Chicken pie, Hot, smokin' on de plate. Bake dat Chicken pie! Yes, put in lots o' spice. Oh, how I hopes to Goodness Dat I gits de bigges' slice.
I AM NOT GOING TO HOBO ANY MORE
My mammy done tol' me a long time ago To always try fer to be a good boy; To lay on my pallet an' to waller on de flo'; An' to never leave my daddy's house. I hain't never gwineter hobo no mo'. By George! I hain't never gwineter hobo no mo'.
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