Negro Folk Rhymes - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Mistah Buster, he's a Jim-dandy!
He can swing dem gals so handy.
Charlie's up an' Charlie's down.
Charlie's fine an' dandy.
Ev'ry time he goes to town, He gits dem gals stick candy.
Dat n.i.g.g.ah, he love sugar an' tea.
Dat n.i.g.g.ah love dat candy.
Fine n.i.g.g.ah! He can wheel 'em 'round, An' swing dem ladies handy.
Mistah Sambo, he love sugar an' tea.
Mistah Sambo love his candy.
Mistah Sambo; he's dat han'some man What goes wid sister Mandy.
HERE COMES A YOUNG MAN COURTING
Here comes a young man a courtin'! Courtin'! Courtin'!
Here comes a young man a-courtin'! It's Tidlum Tidelum Day.
"Say! Won't you have one o' us? Us, Sir? Us, Sir?
Say! Won't you have one o' us, Sir?" dem brown skin ladies say.
"You is too black an' rusty! Rusty! Rusty!
You is too black an' rusty!" said Tidlum Tidelum Day.
"We hain't no blacker 'an you, Sir! You, Sir! You, Sir!
We hain't no blacker 'an you, Sir!" dem brown skin ladies say.
"Pray! Won't you have one o' us, Sir? Us, Sir? Us, Sir?
Pray! Won't you have one o' us, Sir?" say yaller gals all gay.
"You is too ragged an' dirty! Dirty! Dirty!
You is too ragged an' dirty!" said Tidlum Tidelum Day.
"You sh.o.r.e is got de bighead! Bighead! Bighead!
You sh.o.r.e is got de bighead! You needn' come dis way.
We's good enough fer you, Sir! You, Sir! You, Sir!
We's good enough fer you, Sir!" dem yaller gals all say.
"De fairest one dat I can see, dat I can see, dat I can see, De fairest one dat I can see," said Tidlum Tidelum Day.
"My Lulu, come an' wa'k wid me, wa'k wid me, wa'k wid me.
My Lulu, come an' wa'k wid me. 'Miss Tidlum Tidelum Day.'"
ANCHOR LINE
I'se gwine out on de Anchor Line, Dinah!
I won't git back 'fore de summer time, Dinah!
W'en I come back be "dead in line,"
I'se gwineter bring you a dollar an' a dime, Sh.o.r.e as I gits in from de Anchor Line, Dinah!
If you loves me lak I loves you, Dinah!
No c.o.o.n can cut our love in two, Dinah!
If you'll jes come an' go wid me, Come go wid me to Tennessee, Come go wid me; I'll set you free,--Dinah!
SALLIE
Sallie! Sallie! don't you want to marry?
Sallie! Sallie! do come an' tarry!
Sallie! Sallie! Mammy says to tell her when.
Sallie! Sallie! She's gwineter kill dat turkey hen!
Sallie! Sallie! When you goes to marry, (Sallie! Sallie!) Marry a fahmin man(!) (Sallie! Sallie!) Ev'ry day'll be Mond'y, (Sallie! Sallie!) Wid a hoe-handle in yo' han'!
[29]SONG TO THE RUNAWAY SLAVE
Go 'way from dat window, "My Honey, My Love!"
Go 'way from dat window! I say.
De baby's in de bed, an' his mammy's lyin' by, But you cain't git yo' lodgin' here.
Go 'way from dat window, "My Honey, My Love!"
Go 'way from dat window! I say; Fer ole Mosser's got 'is gun, an' to Miss'ip' youse been sol'; So you cain't git yo' lodgin' here.
Go 'way from dat window, "My Honey, My Love!"
Go 'way from dat window! I say.
De baby keeps a-cryin'; but you'd better un'erstan'
Dat you cain't git yo' lodgin' here.
Go 'way from dat window, "My Honey, My Love!"
Go 'way from dat window! I say; Fer de Devil's in dat man, an' you'd better un'erstan'
Dat you cain't git yo' lodgin' here.
[29] The story went among Negroes that a runaway slave husband returned every night, and knocked on the window of his wife's cabin to get food.
Other slaves having betrayed the secret that he was still in the vicinity, he was sold in the woods to a slave trader at reduced price.
This trader was to come next day with bloodhounds to hunt him down. On the night after the sale, when the runaway slave husband knocked, the slave wife pinched their baby to make it cry. Then she sang the above song (as if singing to the baby), so that he might, if possible, effect his escape.
DOWN IN THE LONESOME GARDEN
Hain't no use to weep, hain't no use to moan; Down in a lonesome gyardin.
You cain't git no meat widout pickin' up a bone, Down in a lonesome gyardin.
Look at dat gal! How she puts on airs, Down in de lonesome gyardin!
But whar did she git dem closes she w'ars, Down in de lonesome gyardin?
It hain't gwineter rain, an' it hain't gwineter snow; Down in my lonesome gyardin.
You hain't gwinter eat in my kitchen doo', Nor down in my lonesome gyardin.
