Bress mah life! why, dis hain’t Trussey?
Go ’way Chile! whut dat yo’ say?
Yo’ hain’t fiddlin’ Peedah’s sonny—
Who’d er tho’t it, any way!
Ax me ef I knowed yo’ daddy—
Knowed each uddah yeahs ergo.
Me an’ him hab bof togeddah,
Hoed er many ’taytah ro’.
Res’ yo’ duddin’s! take de sofa,
Make yo’se’f jes’ lak yo’ home.
’Cep’ mos’ free mah hooskerpalty,
Plenty time eroun’ to roam.
See, hyeah, Dina, am dem chittlins
An’ dem hog feet th’ew er bile?
Who yo’ think we got fo’ dinnah?
Ol’ fren’ Fiddlin’ Peedah’s chile!
Well, sah, I hain’t seed yo’ daddy
Since dat fight at Possum Trot.
Dog mah socks, we bof togeddah,
Whoop’d de debbil on de spot!
Still er libbin’ down in Guinea?
Why, dat’s my ol’ rompin’ groun’.
Hain’t er spot, ner nook, ner crebbice
Dat I doan’ know ’bout dat town.
Ready, Dinah? Bress de Lawd! umph!
Mah ol’ lady am er sight.
Kin she cook? Whut? Doan’ yo’ staht me!
She kin sho’ put things up right!
Walk out, Trussy; go pertaykin’
Ub de bes’ de ol’ man’s got!
Kose tain’t much, but prob’ly sumfin’s
Dah will kinedah tech de spot!
Go ’head, say de bressins, Trussy,
Fo’ de Lawd sakes cut ’em short.
Lemme pos’ yo’ fo’ yo’ staht in,
Doan’ yo’ preach an’ try to e’ort—
“Make us thankful, Heab’nly Faddah,
Fo’ dis hyeah pussipyus spread;
Hyeah deez few mos’ feeble ’spreshyuns
Dat yo’ umble sahvunt shed.
“Gibb us wid ah daily bread, sah!
Chicken, an’ all sech ez dat!
Th’ow in now an’ den er possum,
Coon wid plenty lean an’ fat!
“Po’ dy bressins on dis family—
Put mo’ chickens on dey roos’;
Things git skace, dey needs er he’pin’,
Len’ er ban’, gibb ’em er boos’.”
Jump in, Trussy; git to business!
Ebbry fellah fo’ himse’f.
Whut’s hyeah fo’ us on dis table’s
Nuf to take er possum’s bref.
Ha! ha! Trussy, dem ol’ hog feet
Sots dis ol’ soul all er chune!
Ha! ha! Dina? look at Trussy
Kock dat lef’ eye at dat coon!
Yo’ hain’t full kin to yo’ daddy
Ef yo’ doesn’t lak de coon;
Possum, chicken, sweepahtaytahs.
An’ de sumpshus musherroon.
Tell us ’bout ol’ Tootsy Tadpole.
Slipshod Beebe, Feeby Scott!
Susan Rhinehole. Sukie Slowup,
Husky Botts, de res’ de lot.
Does I ’membah Slimmy Twostep?
Who? dat dah ol’ onry cuss?
Usetah hug de stove when happy,
In church raised all kine o’ fuss?
Gibb him mo’ coon dumplin’s, Dina!
Sakes! he’s jes’ fell into eat.
Tote him few dem frizzlin’ passnups,
Lecktrifies yo’ to yo’ feet!
Whah’s ol’ Susan Peecock, Trussy?
Is de debbil got her yet?
Sakes o’ lie! she’s got mo’ husban’s
Den yo’s fingers got, I’ll bet!
Cum on wid dem pig tails, Dina!
Doan’ be primpin’ in de glass!
Mussen’ make de ol’ man wait so,
Yo’ look poody nuf to pass.
Bress de Lawd! whee! glory! glory!
No joke, dem am sizzlin’ hot!
Lissen at de res’ dem fellahs
Prayin’ an’ singin’ in de pot!
Go ’way, Fido! see hyeah, Dina!
Kick dat debbil out de do’!
Ebbry time he sniffs dem chittlins
He’s er hangin’ ’roun’ hyeah, sho’.
See hyeah, chile! yo’ hain’t th’ew eatin’,
Rake mo’ dumplin’s on yo’ plate!
Go dem flapp jacks, sum dat grabey,
Eat ’long in de mopein’ gait.
Pass de ol’ man few dem biskits;
B’lieve I’ll take sum poke chops, too!
Little mo’ dat drap down coffee,
Nuddah dose dat bullyun stew.
Go on in de pollah, Trussy,
Ef yo’ got ernuf to eat.
I’ll be th’ew in jes’ er minute,
Den we’ll go an’ thrash sum wheat.
