“Get offen me!  Get offen me!” yell’ dat log.

So li’l’ black Mose he git’ offen dat log, an’ no mistake.

An’ soon as he git’ offen de log, de log uprise, an’ li’l’ black Mose he see’ dat dat log am de king ob all de ghostes.  An’ whin de king uprise, all de congregation crowd round li’l’ black Mose, an’ dey am about leben millium an’ a few lift over.  Yes, sah; dat de reg’lar annyul Hallowe’en convintion whut li’l’ black Mose interrup’.  Right dar am all de sperits in de world, an’ all de ha’nts in de world, an’ all de hobgoblins in de world, an’ all de ghouls in de world, an’ all de spicters in de world, an’ all de ghostes in de world.  An’ whin dey see li’l’ black Mose, dey all gnash dey teef an’ grin’ ‘ca’se it gettin’ erlong toward dey-all’s lunch-time.  So de king, whut he name old Skull-an’-Bones, he step’ on top ob li’l’ Mose’s head, an’ he say’: 

“Gin’l’min, de convintion will come to order.  De sicretary please note who is prisint.  De firs’ business whut come’ before de convintion am:  whut we gwine do to a li’l’ black boy whut stip’ on de king an’ maul’ all ober de king an’ treat’ de king dat disrespictful’.”

An’ li’l’ black Mose jes moan’ an’ sob’: 

“’Scuse me!  ’Scuse me, Mistah King!  Ah ain’t mean no harm at all.”

But nobody ain’t pay no attintion to him at all, ’ca’se yevery one lookin’ at a monstrous big ha’nt whut name Bloody Bones, whut rose up an’ spoke.

“Your Honor, Mistah King, an’ gin’l’min an’ ladies,” he say’, “dis am a right bad case ob lazy majesty, ’ca’se de king been step on.  Whin yivery li’l’ black boy whut choose’ gwine wander round at night an’ stip on de king ob ghostes, it ain’t no time for to palaver, it ain’t no time for to prevaricate, it ain’t no time for to cogitate, it ain’t no time do nuffin’ but tell de truth, an’ de whole truth, an’ nuffin’ but de truth.”

An’ all dem ghostes sicond de motion, an’ dey confabulate out loud erbout dat, an’ de noise soun’ like de rain-doves goin’, “Oo-oo-o-o-o!” an’ de owls goin’, “Whut-whoo-o-o-o!” an’ de wind goin’, “You-you-o-o-o!” So dat risolution am passed unanermous, an’ no mistake.

So de king ob de ghostes, whut name old Skull-an’-Bones, he place’ he hand on de head ob li’l’ black Mose, an’ he hand feel like a wet rag, an’ he say’: 

“Dey ain’t no ghosts.”

An’ one ob de hairs whut on de head ob li’l’ black Mose turn’ white.

An’ de monstrous big ha’nt whut he name Bloody Bones he lay he hand on de head ob li’l’ black Mose, an’ he hand feel like a toadstool in de cool ob de day, an’ he say’: 

“Dey ain’t no ghosts.”

An’ anudder ob de hairs whut on de head ob li’l’ black Mose turn’ white.

An’ a heejus sperit whut he name Moldy Pa’m place’ he hand on de head ob li’l’ black Mose, an’ he hand feel like de yunner side ob a lizard, an’ he say’: