DARKEY WAYS IN DIXIE

BY MARGARET A. RICHARD

THE Abbey Press PUBLISHERS

114 FIFTH AVENUE London NEW YORK Montreal

Copyright, 1901. by THE Abbey Press

[Pg 3]

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

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DARKEY WAYS IN DIXIE.

Mammy’s Baby Chile.

Hush, now hush, do’ cry no mo’ Kaze yo’ daddy had ter go In de massa’s fiel’ ter hoe, Mammy’s baby chile. He gwine come back, dat you’ll see, Kaze he b’long ter you en me, En he’ll jog you on his knee, Mammy’s baby chile. Hush, den hush, do’ cry no mo’! Set dar quiet on de flo’ While I wash de clo’es, you know, Mammy’s baby chile. When de cotton season come, Me en you won’ stay at home, [Pg 6]Kaze yo’ mammy gwine pick some, Mammy’s baby chile. You kin set in de sunshine On de cotton, sof’ en fine, Lis’nin’ ter de moanin’ pine, Mammy’s baby chile. When we done, at en’ ob day, En come home (heah what I say!) Daddy’ll ride you all de way, Mammy’s baby chile. Hush, den hush, do’ cry no mo’ Kaze yo’ daddy had ter go In de massa’s fiel’ ter hoe, Mammy’s baby chile.

[Pg 7]

Playin’ Craps.

What you git dat nickel change Up in coppers fo’, What de preacher gib ter you Las’ night ’fo’e he go? Bet you soon be wid dem chaps Roun’ de corner playin’ craps. What you say? You done bin dar? Is you, nigger, sho? Den de Black Maria git you Sho’s de pleeceman know ’Bout dem dirty little chaps Roun’ de corner playin’ craps. What you gwine make up ter tell Preacher Jones, Eli, When he as’ you ’bout dat nickel— When, en how, en why? Dat you los’ it ter dem chaps Roun’ de corner playin’ craps? [Pg 8] Neber los’ it? Well, I say! Why you talk so slow? Bring dat money out ter sight, So I sho kin know If you ’scape dem cunnin’ chaps Roun’ de corner playin’ craps. Thirteen ob dem! Thirteen coppers, Sho ez I’m erlive! Han’ dem ebry one to me— Scusin ob des five;— En you stay ’way frum them chaps Roun’ de corner playin’ craps!

[Pg 9]

The Washerwoman’s Song.

Oh, I rub en I rub All day in de tub! I went fo’ dese clo’es ’fo’e de clock strike eight, En I rubbin’ on dem in de evenin’ late. I rub en I rub All day in de tub. Oh, I rub en I rub All day in de tub! I soap all de pieces in places erbout, En I scrub till I git all de dinginess out. I rub en I rub All day in de tub. Oh, I rub en I rub All day in de tub! Sho ez de good Missus pay me fo’ dese [Pg 10] I gwine treat you chillun ter crackers en cheese. Ain’t you glad I kin rub All day in de tub?

“I rub en I rub!”

[Pg 11]

A Seller Ob Ole Clo’es.

Dese am pretty clo’es, fo’ true, En I’ll sell ’em quick fo’ you, Dat I will! Dey does look des lak you, Miss, En I feel dat I could kiss Ebry frill. Dis heah flower on dis hat— Lan’! My heart do cry fo’ dat— It so sweet! I would sholy lak ter go Wid it on my head, des so, Down de street. “Buy it, den, yo’se’f,” you say? Now, you know dat I cain’t pay Fo’ dat hat! Sellin’ clo’es ain’t made me rich, But my head do sholy itch To weah dat. [Pg 12] If dem niggers come en pay Allers fo’ de clo’es dey say Dey gwine git, I would hab de change ter buy Somethin’ when my heart do cry So fo’ it. Ten cents on de dollar, Miss, Won’ buy soon a hat lak dis, Dat am sho; En dis nigger hab ter eat— Hab ter buy some bread en meat, Ez you know. Well, good-day! Dese pretty clo’es, Wid dey laces en dey bows, Soon be gone; Kaze dem gals, when dey heah tell Dat I got yo’ clo’es ter sell, Sho gwine run.

[Pg 13]

The Well-Cleaner’s Revery.

Me en Tom bin cleanin’ wells Long time, sho; En we’ll clean ’em till God tells Us ter go Up dar whar de shinin’ stream, Pu’ en sweet, Flow frue heaven, lak a dream, At our feet. En I min’ me how us two, Ez time pass, Work togedder good, fo’ true, Fus’ en las’; One stay up en one go down, En bofe know Dey mus’ fill dey place, I boun’, High or low. When Tom turn de win’lass roun’, En I go [Pg 14]Fur down underneath de groun’, Dark en low, I trus’ allers dat he gwine Draw me out Ter de place whar de sun shine All erbout. En I b’lieve dat if a man Fall in sin, We mus’ lif’ him, if we kin, Up ag’in; Kaze he need de he’pin’ han’, Dat am sho, If all safe he rise en stan’ Any mo’. God done take dis simple way Ter show me Dat while in de worl’ we stay We must be ’Pendent on each other, sho, Till we rise Frum de dang’rous deeps below Ter de skies.

[Pg 15]

Song Of the Huckster.

I don’ ride erlong de street Wid my mouth shet tight, Kaze I know I got ter sing, Lak a singer right, If I make dis pile ob goods Dwindle frum de sight: “Tomatoes en okra Passin’ right by! Beans en pertatoes— De prices ain’t high! Apples en peaches, De fines’ ter-day! Oh, come out en buy ’Fo’e dey all git away— Come out en buy!” All de white men down de street Wantin’ me, fo’ sho, [Pg 16]Des to drive en sell fo’ dem, Kaze dey say dey know I git rid ob all my truck, Singin’ ez I go: “Tomatoes en okra Passin’ right by! Beans en pertatoes— De prices ain’t high! Apples en peaches, De fines’ ter-day! Oh, come out en buy ’Fo’e dey all git away— Come out en buy!” Once de preacher what hol’ fo’th Fo’ de Methodis’, Say: “Oh, man, I b’l’eve dat you Done yo’ callin’ miss! Why’n’t you use dat voice ter preach ’Stead ob shoutin’ dis:

“Vegtibles.”

“‘Tomatoes en okra Passin’ right by! Beans en pertatoes— [Pg 17]De prices ain’t high! Apples en peaches, De fines’ ter-day! Oh, come out en buy ’Fo’e dey all git away— Come out en buy!’” En I laugh en tell him dat Dis town full ter-day Ob fine men, des lak hisse’f, What kin preach en pray; But dey ain’t but one dat go Singin’ ’long dis way: “Tomatoes en okra Passin’ right by! Beans en pertatoes— De prices ain’t high! Apples en peaches, De fines’ ter-day! Oh, come out en buy ’Fo’e dey all git away— Come out en buy!”

[Pg 18]

By en By.

Uncle Reuben, ole en good, Come ter town wid nice fat wood Frum de san’ hills fur away— ’Mos’ eleben miles, dey say. En he drive a ox so slow, En a cart dat wobble so, Dat it look lak dey gwine fall, En ole Uncle gwine lose all, By en by, by en by. Uncle got dat wood dervide, En in hones’ bundles tied, En he holler ’cross de fence: “Three big bunches fo’ ten cents! Buy some, Missus, please, frum me, Kaze I need de change, you see; En I mus’ go down de street Ter git me some meal en meat, By en by, by en by.

“En he drive a ox so slow.”

[Pg 19]

Missus say she don’ want none; What he brought befo’ ain’t gone; En ole Uncle pass on by, Still wid courage in his eye; En he doan’ lose heart dat day, But wid smilin’ face he say: “I ain’t bin all ’roun’ de town— I gwine sell it, I am boun’, By en by, by en by.” En he sell it all, fo’ true, Ez he said dat he would do! When at las’ he go down street, He buy mo’ dan meal en meat, Kaze he lak terbacco, too, Well ez any nigger do; En he say: “I’ll ’joy it, sho, Ez erlong de road I go, By en by, by en by.” When he ’bout ter leave de town Ez de sun am gwine down, Us black niggers laugh en say: “Bet you won’t git home ter-day Wid dat ox, so ole en slow, [Pg 20]En dat cart dat wobble so!” En he bow his head en say: “I gwine git dar, anyway, By en by, by en by.” Uncle Reuben’s gittin’ ole— He’s pas’ sixty, I’se bin tole; En his han’ sho shake ter-day In a weak en trimblin’ way; En his ole legs wobbled too, Lak de wheels ob his cart do, Ez he say: “De en’ soon come, Kaze de Lawd gwine call me home, By en by, by en by.”

[Pg 21]

In Season Ob Mistletoe.

Dat Sambo ain’t got good sense; Work agin hisse’f for sho; ’Tain’t no parable I’m tellin’, ’Tis de truf, en dat am so. He wus ’ployed by Missus Johnsing Ter run erran’s en bring wood;— Ter do anything, in fac’, Roun’ de place a nigger could; En Sambo, he done right well Till de boys begin ter sell Bunches ob de mistletoe. ’Twus de Chris’mas time ercomin’, En it tingled in his blood, Till he couldn’t stick ter sawin’ En ter choppin’ ob de wood; En he couldn’t heah de Missus When she say: “Be smart, Sambo!” Kaze de soun’ ob dem boys callin’ [Pg 22]In de street wus all he know; En a nigger stop en say: “We is lucky, sho, ter-day; We des sells de mistletoe!” Sambo didn’t stop ter say: “’Scuse me, Missus, I mus’ go!” Do his po’ ole mammy teach him Better manners, dat you know. He des leave dat yard en clim’ Up de neares’ ole oak tree, Whar de mistletoe wus growin’ Fresh en green ez it could be; En he jine dem boys dat cry: “Mistletoe er passin’ by! Don’ you want some mistletoe?” En he sell it mighty good—

He des scoop de nickles in! Seem de Lawd wus blessin’ him In his foolishness en sin. Dar de Missus wus er needin’ Him ter chop en bring in wood, En he orter gone en done it— Kaze she sho bin mighty good, [Pg 23]But he strut erlong de street, Hol’rin’ out: “It’s hard to beat Dis fine bunch ob mistletoe!” But de jedgment come at las’, Ez it boun’ ter come, fo’ sho, When a nigger work agin His ownse’f, lak dat Sambo. When de holidays wus pas’ Missus say dat she don’ need Him to work no mo’ fo’ her, Kaze she got some one instead. En dat boy got sense ter know White folks don’ buy mistletoe When de season am done pas’!

[Pg 24]

Chris’mas Gif’!

I go tip-toe down de alley Ter de Missus’ kitchen do’, Kaze I know she got some Chris’mas Somewhar fo’ dis darkey, sho; She don’ spec’ me roun’ dat way, En I s’prise her when I say: “Chris’mas gif’!” Den she turn roun’, des er laughin’, En she say: “De same ter you! Is you got a present fo’ me? Kaze I want one—I sho do!” “You’s des foolin’,” den I say; “’Sides I hollered fus dis day: ‘Chris’mas gif’!’” Den she git a big bandanna— One wid po’ka dots ob red, En she say: “Ez you done ketch me, [Pg 25]You kin hab dis fo’ yo’ head.” So I sho am glad dis day Dat I wus de fus ter say: “Chris’mas gif’!”

[Pg 26]