Spo’t, dis fishin’! now you talkin’, w’y dey ain’t no kin’ to beat;
  I don’ keer ef I is soakin’, laigs, an’ back, an’ naik, an’ feet,
  It ’s de spo’t I ‘s lookin’ aftah.  Hit ‘s de pleasure an’ de fun,
  Dough I knows dat Lizy ‘s waitin’ wid de skillet w’en I’s done.

A PLANTATION PORTRAIT

  Hain’t you see my Mandy Lou,
    Is it true? 
  Whaih you been f’om day to day,
    Whaih, I say? 
  Dat you say you nevah seen
    Dis hyeah queen
  Walkin’ roun’ f’om fiel’ to street
    Smilin’ sweet?

  Slendah ez a saplin’ tree;
    Seems to me
  Wen de win’ blow f’om de bay
    She jes’ sway
  Lak de reg’lar saplin’ do
    Ef hit’s grew
  Straight an’ graceful, ’dout a limb,
    Sweet an’ slim.

  Browner den de frush’s wing,
    An’ she sing
  Lak he mek his wa’ble ring
    In de spring;
  But she sholy beat de frush,
    Hyeah me, hush: 
  Wen she sing, huh teef kin show
    White ez snow.

  Eyes ez big an’ roun’ an’ bright
    Ez de light
  Whut de moon gives in de prime
    Harvest time. 
  An’ huh haih a woolly skein,
    Black an’ plain. 
  Hol’s you wid a natchul twis’
    Close to bliss.

  Tendah han’s dat mek yo’ own
    Feel lak stone;
  Easy steppin’, blessid feet,
    Small an’ sweet. 
  Hain’t you seen my Mandy Lou,
    Is it true? 
  Look at huh befo’ she’s gone,
    Den pass on!

A LITTLE CHRISTMAS BASKET

  De win’ is hollahin’ “Daih you” to de shuttahs an’ de fiah,
    De snow’s a-sayin’ “Got you” to de groun’,
  Fu’ de wintah weathah ‘s come widout a-askin’ ouah desiah,
    An’ he ‘s laughin’ in his sleeve at whut he foun’;
  Fu’ dey ain’t nobody ready wid dey fuel er dey food,
    An’ de money bag look timid lak, fu’ sho’,
  So we want ouah Chrismus sermon, but we ’d lak it ef you could
    Leave a little Chrismus basket at de do’.

  Wha ‘s de use o’ tellin’ chillen ’bout a Santy er a Nick,
    An’ de sto’ies dat a body allus tol’? 
  When de harf is gray wid ashes an’ you has n’t got a stick
    Fu’ to warm dem when dey little toes is col’? 
  Wha ‘s de use o’ preachin’ ’ligion to a man dat’s sta’ved to def,
    An’ a-tellin’ him de Mastah will pu’vide? 
  Ef you want to tech his feelin’s, save yo’ sermons an’ yo’ bref,
    Tek a little Chrismus basket by yo’ side.

  ‘T ain’t de time to open Bibles an’ to lock yo’ cellah do’,
    ‘T ain’t de time to talk o’ bein’ good to men;
  Ef you want to preach a sermon ez you nevah preached befo’,
    Preach dat sermon wid a shoat er wid er hen;
  Bein’ good is heap sight bettah den a-dallyin’ wid sin,
    An’ dey ain’t nobody roun’ dat knows it mo’,
  But I t’ink dat ’ligion ‘s sweeter w’en it kind o’ mixes in
    Wid a little Chrismus basket at de do’.