Hair don’t hang ’way down her back; plaited up in rows;
    Wid de two en’s dat’s behin’ tied wid ribben bows.

    Han’s dat raly wuz’n made fu’ hard work, I’m sho’;
    Got a little bit o’ foot; weahs a numbah fo’.

    You jes oughtah see dat gal Sunday’s w’en she goes
    To de Baptis’ meetin’ house, dressed in her bes’ clo’es.

    W’en she puts her w’ite dress on an’ othah things so fine;
    Now, Su’, don’t you know I’m proud o’ dat gal o’ mine.

THE SEASONS

    W’en de leaves begin to fall,
    An’ de fros’ is on de ground,
    An’ de ‘simmons is a-ripenin’ on de tree;
    W’en I heah de dinner call,
    An’ de chillen gadder ’round,
    ’Tis den de ‘possum is de meat fu’ me.

    W’en de wintertime am pas’
    An’ de spring is come at las’,
    W’en de good ole summer sun begins to shine;
    Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn,
    An’ my heart begins to yearn
    Fo’ dat watermelon growin’ on de vine.

    Now, de yeah will sholy bring
    ‘Round a season fu’ us all,
    Ev’y one kin pick his season f’om de res’;
    But de melon in de spring,
    An’ de ’possum in de fall,
    Mek it hard to tell which time o’ year am bes’.

’POSSUM SONG

(A Warning)

    ‘Simmons ripenin’ in de fall,
    You better run,
    Brudder ’Possum, run! 
    Mockin’ bird commence to call,
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    Run some whar an’ hide! 
    Ole moon am sinkin’
    Down behin’ de tree. 
    Ole Eph am thinkin’
    An’ chuckelin’ wid glee. 
    Ole Tige am blinkin’
    An’ frisky as kin be,
    Yo’ chances, Brudder ’Possum,
    Look mighty slim to me.

    Run, run, run, I tell you,
    Run, Brudder ’Possum, run! 
    Run, run, run, I tell you,
    Ole Eph’s got a gun. 
    Pickaninnies grinnin’
    Waitin’ fu’ to see de fun. 
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    Run, Brudder ’Possum, run!

    Brudder ’Possum take a tip;
    You better run,
    Brudder ’Possum, run! 
    ‘Tain’t no use in actin’ flip,
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    Run some whar an’ hide. 
    Dey’s gwine to houn’ you
    All along de line,
    W’en dey done foun’ you,
    Den what’s de use in sighin’? 
    Wid taters roun’ you. 
    You sholy would tase fine—­
    So listen, Brudder ’Possum,
    You better be a-flyin’.

    Run, run, run, I tell you,
    Run, Brudder ’Possum, run! 
    Run, run, run, I tell you,
    Ole Eph’s got a gun. 
    Pickaninnies grinnin’
    Waitin’ fu’ to see de fun. 
    You better run, Brudder ’Possum, git out de way! 
    Run, Brudder ’Possum, run!