{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_19363/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_19363","id":"gutenberg_19363","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19363","summary":null,"tags":["Black English -- Southern States","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Humour","Category: Poetry","Dialect poetry, American","Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Janet Blenkinship and The Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was\nproduced from images generously made available by The\nInternet Archive/American Libraries.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  DADDY DO-FUNNY'S\n  WISDOM JINGLES\n\n  BY\n  RUTH McENERY STUART\n\n  ILLUSTRATED BY G. H. CLEMENTS\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n  NEW YORK\n  THE CENTURY CO.\n  1916\n\n\n\n\n  Copyright, 1910, 1911, 1912, 1913, by\n  The Century Co.\n\n  _Published, October, 1913_\n\n\n\n\n  To the Memory of those faithful brown\n  slave-men of the plantations throughout the\n  South, Daddy's contemporaries all, who during\n  the war while their masters were away fighting\n  in a cause opposed to their emancipation,\n  brought their blankets and slept outside their\n  mistresses' doors, thus keeping night-watch\n  over otherwise unprotected women and children--a\n  faithful guardianship of which the\n  annals of those troublous times record no\n  instance of betrayal.\n\n\n\n\nFOREWORD\n\n\nIn presenting a loyal and venerable ex-slave as an artless exponent of\nfreedom, freedom of conduct as well as of speech, the author of this\ntrivial volume is perhaps not composing an individual so truly as\nindividualizing a composite, if the expression will pass.\n\nThe grizzled brown dispenser of homely admonitions is a figure not\nunfamiliar to those who have \"moved in plantation circles\" in the cotton\nand sugar country, and touched hands with the kindly dark survivors of\nthe old regime.\n\nIf the man, Daddy Do-funny, was unique as an individual, perhaps in the\nvery fact of an individuality unembarrassed by the limitations of\nconvention, of education and of precedent, he becomes in a sense typical\nof his people and of his time.\n\nOf course, a man is not called Do-funny for nothing, not even playfully\nand in the free vernacular of rusticity at its freest.\n\nOne of a small community of superannuated pensioners upon the bounty of\ntheir former owners, Daddy was easily first citizen of Evergreen annex\non Crepe Myrtle plantation, which is to say he was therein a personage\nof place and of privilege, coming and going at will, doing as he\npleased, and as, with uplifted eye, he reverently boasted, \"sponsible to\nnobody but Almighty Gord for manners and behavior.\"\n\nEven so late as this year of grace, a full half century after\n\"emancipation,\" there are still to be found on many of the larger\nplantations in the far South a few such members of the order of the\nRocking-chair, whose records of \"good and honorable service\" reach back\nthrough periods of bondage, even such kindergartners as septuagenarians\nin the privileged class, having clear title to nearly a quarter of a\ncentury of slave memories; not to mention the occasional centenarian\nwith even his semi-occasional uncle or father poking around, toothless\nand white-plumed dignitaries, these, sometimes with leaders, being\nblind, but ever important in pride of association and memory.\n\nIt is something even if one is bent double and may never again behold\nthe light of day, to be able to reach back into a dim and forgotten past\nand to say, \"I remember,\" especially when the memory recalls days of\nbrilliance and of importance.\n\nBut Daddy's place among the gentle Knights and Ladies of the\nRocking-chair was far and away above such as these whose thoughts, alert\nthough they were and loyal, travelled forever backward to the sweet but\nworn fields of memory where every pleasure is a recognition and fashions\ndo not change--a restful retreat for dreamers whose days of activity are\ndone.\n\nBut Daddy's mind worked forward and upward and although he did not know\nthe alphabet excepting by rote, a common ante-bellum plantation\naccomplishment, and while professing high contempt for what he called\n\"cold shelf-knowledge,\" his reputation for wisdom, wisdom as gleaned in\nobservation and experience and \"ripened by insight,\" was supreme, while\nhis way of casually tossing it off in bits in playful epigram finally\ngave the word its plural form so that the expression \"Do-Funny Wisdoms\"\ncame into familiar use.\n\nAs an example of his rambling talk, much of which seems at least\nsemivagarious on transcription, I recall one of his meandering\ndissertations on the value of experience as superior to observation.\n\nSeveral of the old people, his neighbors, had joined the listening\nchildren who surrounded him under the fig-tree, and perhaps he\nunconsciously deferred to them in his accent of their common possession\nin length of days, although he gave no sign of heed to any audience,\nwhen he said:\n\n\"Dey's mighty few facts de same behind an' befo', not to say inside an'\noutside, and a man can go roun' an' roun' de blackberry bush an' not git\nnowhar. 'Spe'unce is a thorny bramble, an' yer 'bleeged to go _th'ough_\nit, to _draw blood_, an', I tell yer, _de blood is de life_!\"\n\nAlthough this tribute brought grunts of approval from the gray heads,\nDaddy was soon off at a tangent in playful fancy, hitting off a foible\nor \"celebrating truth and justice\" in one of the unconscious epigrams\nwhich it is sought herein to preserve, even when having occasionally to\nhammer them into shape, for, while Daddy was almost unerring in rhyme,\nhis rhythm, never at fault in delivery, was strictly a temperamental\nmatter, not adequately renderable in cold print.\n\nBut more than as philosopher, satirist or seer was the old man\ndistinguished as a social factor on the place. Wherever his chair was\nset, there were the children gathered together, both black and white,\neager listeners to his quaint pictorial recitals, even seeming to\ncherish the \"Wisdoms\" which fell from his tongue, as is not a common way\nwith children, who seem instinctively to spurn the obviously didactic.\n\nBut Daddy's moralizing, besides its saving grace of imagery, was\ngenerally sequential and convincing; while his repartee, to use a word\nwhich seems almost a misfit in this rural setting, had a way of hitting\nthe mark and striking fire, as when, in reply to the question from a\nforth-putting youngster on one occasion, \"Where do you keep all your\nwisdoms, Daddy?\" he snapped:\n\n\"In my ole toof holes, dat's whar! Wisdoms don't ripen good tel yo'\ntoofs is ready to drap out. Ev'rybody knows dat Gord A'mighty ain't\nnuver is set but one live Wisdom-toof in a man's mouf--an' dat comes\nlate an' goes early.\"\n\nAnd then he added with a mischievous smile:\n\n\"You-all smarty undergrowth, you ain't chawed life yit. You jes\n'speramintin' wid yo' milk-toofs.\n\n\"Now's yo' havin' time, chillen, but _to have an' to lose, dat's life_!\n\n\"Study wisdom now an' minch on it good wid yo yo'ng baby toofs an' hol'\nfas' to it, so's it'll meller down ripe, time de caverns opens for it.\n\n\"But look out! I knows a lot o' ole vacant wisdom caves for rent behin'\ndis crepe myrtle hedge--so, I say, watch and pray! Pray for insight an'\noutsight! An' even so, dey's some wisdoms so fine you can't see 'em tel\nyou nearin' Home an' livin' on de far side o' life!\"\n\nDaddy lived alone in a tiny vine-clad cabin and there were times when he\nseemed frail and to need care, and the doctor said he was rheumatic.\nThis, however, he denied, declining companionship while he insisted that\nthe sharp pains which occasionally twisted his brow were only growing\npains which he was glad to endure as not having got his growth in his\nfirst childhood, he was \"'bleeged to wrastle wid it in de second,\" and,\n\"of course,\" he added, \"it comes harder when a man's bones is set.\"\n\nOn days when his pains were bad, he would propel himself around in a\nroller-chair, which he called his chariot; and although evidently\nsuffering, he was never heard to complain. Once, when he seemed almost\nhelpless, some one asked him how he had got into the chair, and was\nquickly silenced by his ready answer, \"Gord lifted me in!\"\n\nNow, to Daddy clothes were clothes. In dress as in manners, he knew no\nobligation of precedent; and as to fashion, the word made him chuckle.\n\nWhen his pains were unusually severe and it was difficult for him to get\ninto his own garments, he did not hesitate to clothe himself in one of\nthe flowing wrappers which his old wife, Judy, long since dead, had\nworn.\n\nAnd thus it happened that while on some days an aged man might have been\nseen hobbling about, working among his plants, on others there appeared\nto be an old woman propelling herself around in a rolling chair; and\nseeing her, his neighbors, with perhaps a chuckle, would remark, \"I see\nDaddy Do-funny is laid up ag'in!\"\n\nAnother peculiar habit of the old man was the way in which he took his\nbath--a dangerous process, one would think, for a rheumatic, but\nharmless, no doubt, to growing pains. Seeing the rain coming, he would\nexclaim: \"Gord sendeth de rain! He's offerin' me a bath--just or\nunjust!\" Then donning his \"bath-slip,\" an old wool wrapper of Judy's and\ngetting into his roller-chair, he would wheel out and sit calmly in the\nshower, often closing his eyes and lifting his face as he exclaimed:\n\"Bless Gord for de sweet drops! Bless Gord for de rain!\" and when he had\nhad bath enough, he would either put up his umbrella or roll his chair\nindoors as he felt inclined.\n\nBut perhaps we cannot get nearer the soul of the old man than by\nrecalling a conversation which occurred during an invasion of the\nchildren, a conversation between him and his guests which is thrown into\na sort of rhyme for easy memorizing, passing from one speaker to another\nwithout more than the natural pause for reply.\n\nObviously, the children began it:\n\n  \"Ol' Daddy Do-funny,\n  How do you come on?\"\n  \"Po'ly, thank Gord, honey,\n  Po'ly dis morn.\n    My ol' spine it's sort o' stiff,\n    An' my arms dey 'fuze to lif'.\n    An' de miz'ry 's in my breas',\n    An' I got some heart-distress.\n    An' de growin' pains dey lingers,\n    In my knee-j'ints an' my fingers,\n  But I'm well, praise Gord, dis mornin'.\"\n\n  \"Ol' Daddy Do-funny,\n  What cuyus talk!\n  How is you well, when you\n  Can't even walk?\"\n\n    \"Hush, you foolish chillen, hush!\n    What's dat singin' in de brush?\n    Ain't dat yonder blue de sky?\n    Feel de cool breeze passin' by!\n    Dis ol' painful back an' knee,\n    Laws-a-mussy, _dey ain't me!\n    I'm well, praise Gord, dis mornin'!_\"\n\n                          RUTH McENERY STUART.\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n  CONTENTS\n\n                                                                    Page\n\n  Daddy's Weather Prayer                                               3\n\n  The Old Rooster                                                      4\n\n  The Butterfly                                                        5\n\n  The Wren                                                             6\n\n  The Watermelon                                                       7\n\n  The Gourd                                                            8\n\n  Judge Owl                                                            9\n\n  The Mosquito                                                        10\n\n  Confession                                                          11\n\n  The Game-Cock                                                       12\n\n  The Epicure                                                         13\n\n  The Mule                                                            14\n\n  The Grubworm                                                        15\n\n  Rain or Shine                                                       16\n\n  Little Green Tree-Toad                                              17\n\n  Sparrows                                                            18\n\n  The Fly                                                             19\n\n  The Little Chicken                                                  20\n\n  The Scare-Crow                                                      21\n\n  The Yellow Rose                                                     22\n\n  The Ambitious Cow                                                   23\n\n  Tried by Fire                                                       24\n\n  Jack O' Lantern                                                     25\n\n  The Flea                                                            26\n\n  Will o' the Wisp                                                    27\n\n  The Mole                                                            28\n\n  The Runt                                                            29\n\n  The Monkey                                                          30\n\n  The Aristocrat                                                      31\n\n  The Crawfish                                                        32\n\n  The Angleworm                                                       33\n\n  The Chimney-Swallow                                                 34\n\n  Catching Doodle-Bugs                                                35\n\n  The Porcupine                                                       36\n\n  Ants                                                                37\n\n  The Parrot                                                          38\n\n  The Rattle-Snake                                                    39\n\n  The Persimmon                                                       40\n\n  In Harness                                                          41\n\n  The Canary                                                          42\n\n  Answering Back                                                      43\n\n  Dat's De Way My Lady'll Do                                          44\n\n  The Mammy Alligator                                                 46\n\n  The New Rich                                                        47\n\n  The Wibbly Wabbly Calf                                              48\n\n  The Turkey-Gobbler                                                  50\n\n  The Cauliflower                                                     51\n\n  The Step-Mother                                                     52\n\n  The Frog                                                            53\n\n  The Rat                                                             54\n\n  The Mocking-Bird                                                    55\n\n  The Mushroom                                                        56\n\n  The Measuring Worm                                                  57\n\n  The Top-Knot Hen                                                    58\n\n  Too Familiar                                                        59\n\n  The 'Possum                                                         60\n\n  The Owl                                                             61\n\n  The Chameleon                                                       62\n\n  The Caterpillar                                                     63\n\n  Dr. Drake                                                           64\n\n  The Peacock                                                         65\n\n  The Alligator                                                       66\n\n  The Terrapin                                                        67\n\n  The Dandelion                                                       68\n\n  The Cud                                                             69\n\n  The Mirror                                                          70\n\n  Goslings                                                            71\n\n  The Pet                                                             72\n\n  The Guinea-Hen                                                      73\n\n  The Moon                                                            74\n\n  The Hen-Roost Man                                                   75\n\n  A Guilty Conscience                                                 76\n\n  The Bat                                                             77\n\n  Incubator Chickens                                                  78\n\n  The Firefly                                                         79\n\n  The Thistle                                                         80\n\n  The Gray Squirrel                                                   81\n\n  Look Out for Mister Bee                                             82\n\n  The Rose                                                            83\n\n  The Locomotive                                                      84\n\n  The Goat                                                            85\n\n  The Fig                                                             86\n\n  The Frizzled Chicken                                                87\n\n  The Endless Song                                                    88\n\n  The Eel                                                             90\n\n  The Rain-Crow                                                       91\n\n  The Giraffe                                                         92\n\n  The Black Sheep                                                     93\n\n  The Prize-Winner                                                    94\n\n  The Dog                                                             95\n\n\n\n\nDADDY DO-FUNNY'S WISDOM JINGLES\n\n\n\n\nDADDY'S WEATHER PRAYER\n\n\n  One asks for sun, an' one for rain,\n    An' sometimes bofe together;\n  I prays for sunshine in my heart,\n    An' den forgits de weather.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE OLD ROOSTER\n\n\n  Ef de hoa'se ol' rooster wouldn't crow so loud\n  He mought pass for yo'ng in de barn-yard crowd;\n  But he strives so hard an' he steps so spry\n  Dat de pullets all winks whilst he marches by.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\nTHE BUTTERFLY\n\n\n  Sis' Butterfly aimed to work all right,\n  But 'er wings dey was heavy, an' 'er head too light;\n  So she riz in de air, 'ca'ze she see she was made\n  Jes' to fly in de sun in de beauty parade.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat--\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WREN\n\n\n  She's a citizen-bird, Sis little brown Wren,\n  She nests in de spring an' de fall again;\n  \"Race suicide\" talk nuver fazes her,\n  'Ca'ze she's good for 'er ten little wrens a year.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself, my ladies, in dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WATERMELON\n\n\n  Oh, Watermilion sho' is good to eat!\n  But de darkie rates it twice-t mo' sweet,\n  'Ca'ze it's ap' to b'long to de yether man,\n  An' it's mighty hard to lif' by sleight o' han'.\n        An' it ain't by itself, made sweet like dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself like dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOURD\n\n\n  De green gou'd on de sunny shed\n  Was mighty proud of his pethy head,\n  So he nuver pondered or studied or trained,\n  An' now he's ol' an' rattle-brained.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nJUDGE OWL\n\n\n  Jedge Owl 's so pompious on 'is limb,\n  You'd s'pose dey was nobody roun' but him;\n  He's afeard ef he was too polite\n  You'd ax 'im whar he spent de night.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOSQUITO\n\n\n  Wid so much Christian blood in 'is veins,\n  You'd think Br'er 'Skitty would take some pains\n  To love 'is neighbor an' show good will,\n  But he's p'izenin' an' back-bitin' still.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nCONFESSION\n\n\n  Dat whale wha' gulped Br'er Jonah down\n  Was bleeged to swim close-t to de groun'\n  Ontel he riz up an' confessed\n  He'd swallered mo' 'n he could digest.\n        But you ain't by yo'self, Br'er Whale, in dat--\n        No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GAME-COCK\n\n\n  Dey's some things square an' some things round,\n  An' little game cocks ain't sol' by de pound;\n  Dey's weighed by sand an' pluck an' grit\n  An' de number o' dead dey leave in de pit.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in rank like dat--\n        No, dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE EPICURE\n\n\n  Ef you keep yo' eyes on Br'er Carrion Crow,\n  You'll wonder huccome he kin carry on so!\n  He flies in high circles an' chooses meat\n  Dat no honest workin'-man would eat.\n        An' he ain't no new high-flyer in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MULE\n\n\n  Ef you quiz Br'er Mule, you'll find dat he\n  Gits mixed on de subjec' of 'is fam'ly tree;\n  He'll brag about 'is mammy with a noble neigh,\n  An' deny 'is own daddy wid a ginuine bray.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRUBWORM\n\n\n  Br'er Grubworm wrops 'isself in twine\n  An' swings in 'is shroud on a evergreen vine,\n  Becaze it's mortal death dat brings\n  His on'iest chance to git 'is wings.\n        But you ain't by yo'self, Br'er Worm, in dat--\n        Oh, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nRAIN OR SHINE?\n\n\n  Ol' Mingo, on 'is knees, he say:\n  \"Lord, teach dis nigger how to pray,\n  Else riconcile two kinds o' weather\n  For craps an' rheumatiz together!\"\n        But you ain't by yo'self, ol' man, in dat--\n        Oh, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nLITTLE GREEN TREE-TOAD\n\n\n  Little green tree-toad on banana leaf,\n  Plenty po' relations all aroun' 'im in de bog;\n  But he'd ruther be blind an' dumb an' deef\n  Dan to hold a conversation wid a \"low-life\" frog!\n        But he ain't no lonesome toady in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nSPARROWS\n\n\n  Dey say dem Sparrers come crost de seas\n  To eat our surplus grubs an' fleas;\n  But dey's whupped our birds off'n dis plantation,\n  Tell we craves to constric' dey immigration.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat--\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLY\n\n\n  Wid dem suctious foots, seem lak Br'er Fly\n  Mought draw down health ef he trod de sky;\n  But he's so onpartic'lar whar he roams\n  Dat he's got 'isself screened out o' quality homes.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself outcas' like dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE LITTLE CHICKEN\n\n\n  Little yaller fluff-ball, one day out,\n  Steps mighty high while he picks all about;\n  Never sees de egg-shell layin' in 'is track,\n  Much less the little piece stickin' on 'is back.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE SCARE-CROW\n\n\n  Br'er Scare-crow's built to suit 'is job\n  Wid flappin' legs an' arms dat bob;\n  He ain't got brains for discontent\n  So he works widout no argument.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE YELLOW ROSE\n\n\n  Dey's a sweet plantation, yaller-buff rose\n  Dat in my ricollection grows;\n  In my ol' dreams she seems to wait\n  Whar she stood an' bloomed by de love-vine gate\n        An' I ain't by myself in dreams like dat--\n        No, I ain't by myself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE AMBITIOUS COW\n\n\n  Sis' Twis'-horn Brindle is a bothersome cow,\n  She's boun' to raise a ruction an' she don't keer how;\n  She craves to be de bell-cow an' lead off wid a clang,\n  So it's all a man kin do to make 'er gallup wid de gang.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat--\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTRIED BY FIRE\n\n\n  De sugar-cane stands so proud an' smart,\n  You'd nuver suspicion it sweet at de heart,\n  But to prove its sweets it yields its will\n  To be tried by fire an' ground in de mill.\n        An' it ain't by itself in dat, in dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nJACK-O'LANTERN\n\n\n  Sence he los' 'is brains to git 'is smile,\n  Brer Jack-o-lantern grins lak a wilderin' chile\n  Widout no secrets out or in;\n  An' de lighter in de head de broader 'is grin\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FLEA\n\n\n  Look out for Mr. Po'-trash Flea!\n  Ef you let 'im come in, he'll make too free;\n  He'll chase yo' dog till he makes 'im pant,\n  An' he'll take yo' skin for a restaurant.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nWILL O' THE WISP\n\n\n  Ef de Wul o' de Wust would cuss an' swear\n  An' take some shape, an' rip an' tear,\n  It wouldn't sen' col' chills down a nigger's spine\n  Like de changeable expression of a mystery shine.\n        An' it ain't by its ghostly self in dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOLE\n\n\n  De blind mole tunnels straight ahead,\n  An' he gits whar he gwine wid a trustful tread,\n  But he nuver is yit got nowhar else,\n  An' he'll nuver view de skies whar glory melts.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RUNT\n\n\n  You'll sometimes trace de loudes' grunt\n  In de horg-lot down to de littles' runt,\n  Lak as ef he'd 'nounce whilst he gulps 'is swill,\n  \"A pompious horg is as big as 'is will.\"\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MONKEY\n\n\n  De organ plays an' Br'er Monkey struts,\n  An' he takes high pride in de capers he cuts,\n  While folks draps picayunes into 'is han'\n  For fallin' so short o' bein' a man.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself, misled like dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ARISTOCRAT\n\n\n  Dat three-name chicken wid de feathery legs\n  Wha' 'merged f'om de ten dollar settin' of eggs,\n  Is a lonesome bird an' I s'picion he frets\n  'Ca'ze he can't outgrow dem pantalettes.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CRAWFISH\n\n\n  Br'er Crawfish th'ows a racklass bluff,\n  An' he sho do look like fightin' stuff;\n  But turn 'im loose on a battle-groun',\n  An' he'll bow 'isself out, an' nuver turn roun'.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ANGLEWORM\n\n\n  \"I could stand de hook,\" says de angleworm,\n  \"An' a lily-brook wouldn't make me squirm,\n  But I can't help wrigglin' ag'in' my fate;\n  It breaks me all up to be used for bait.\"\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHIMNEY-SWALLOW\n\n\n  Wid 'is nest in de flue whar de suctions blow,\n  Storms due above an' fire below,\n  No wonder Br'er Swaller sags an' sways\n  Like a pusson ableeged to dodge bofe ways.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n\n\n\nCATCHING DOODLE-BUGS\n\n\n  Little picaninnies, fishin' in de doodle-bug holes.\n  Wid a \"spit for luck,\" an' straws for poles,\n  Show pyore delight in de fisherman's aim\n  All disp'opo'tioned to de game.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat--\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PORCUPINE\n\n\n  Sis' Porcupine, wid 'er bristles all set\n  In a pompado' style, is waitin' yet,\n  An' she can't understan', whilst she puckers 'er mug,\n  De sca'city o' kisses an' de absent hug.\n        But she ain't by 'er lonesome self in dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nANTS\n\n\n  Dem Ants is sho' got savin' ways\n  An' even de Scripture 'lows 'em praise;\n  But dey hoa'ds for deyselves f'om day to day\n  An' dey stings any man wha' gits in de way.\n        An' dey ain't no new co'poration in dat--\n        No, dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PARROT\n\n\n  Sis' Tin-cage Polly wid de roamin' nose\n  Dat roams f'om 'er eyes tel it p'ints to 'er toes,\n  She keeps up a ratlin' talkin' pace\n  To turn off attention f'om de shape of 'er face.\n        An' you ain't by yo'self, Sis' Polly, in dat--\n        No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RATTLE-SNAKE\n\n\n  Br'er Rattle-snake rattles befo' he springs,\n  But he warns too late to 'scape 'is stings;\n  His high-class manners don't count for much\n  'Ca'ze dey grafted on to a sarpent's touch.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PERSIMMON\n\n\n  Is you little gals, growin' into women,\n  Ever tasted a snappy young persimmin?\n  It takes a hard frost to make it sweet,\n  An' it's ol' an' swiveled 'fo' it's fit to eat!\n        But it ain't by itself, sharp chillen, in dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nIN HARNESS\n\n\n  Dat flee-bitten mule an' my bay mare\n  In de hay-wagon, sho is a mixtious pair;\n  But dey's pulled so long th'ough wind an' weather\n  Dat out in de field dey graze together.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat--\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CANARY\n\n\n  De little yaller cage-bird preems 'is wings\n  An' he mounts 'is pyerch an' sings an' sings;\n  He feels 'is cage, but I s'pec' he 'low\n  To take what comes an' sing _anyhow_!\n        An' you ain't by yo'self, little bird, in dat--\n        No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nANSWERING BACK\n\n\n  Br'er Pole-cat's got a s'ciety smile\n  An' he sho is dressed in scrumptious style,\n  But he keeps 'is own hat off de quality rack\n  By de scan'lous way he answers back.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nDAT'S DE WAY MY LADY'LL DO\n\n\n  It ain't how many eyes you got,\n    'Les' needles could see an' potatoes, too;\n  An' \"hookin' a' eye,\" as like as not,\n    Would be classed as a sin dat no lady'd do.\n      But it's keepin' yo' eyes turned to'des de right,\n      An' to'des de wrong jes' shettin' 'em tight--\n      Lookin' out for ways to be polite--\n    Dat's de way my lady'd do!\n\n  It ain't how many ears you got\n    Dat makes you listen an' learn an' do;\n  Else a hill o' corn in a garden plot\n    Would be 'way ahead o' me an' you;\n      But it's shettin' yo' ears to heartless speech,\n      An' listenin' whilst de teachers teach,\n      An' strivin' to practise mo' 'n to preach--\n    Dat's de way my lady'll do!\n\n  It ain't how many tongues you got,\n    'Les' shoes would talk an' wagons, too;\n  An' all de bells would gabble a lot,\n    An' tattle an' brag de long day th'ough;\n      But it's gyardin' yo' tongue f'om talk dat's wrong,\n      An' passin' a helpful word along,\n      An' maybe singin' a hopeful song--\n    Dat's de way my lady'll do!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAMMY ALLIGATOR\n\n\n  Said de mammy alligator, wid a motherly grin:\n  \"I nuver liked babies wid dey dimples tucked in,\n  But our little pet, wid its horny hide,\n  Like its mammy's an' its daddy's, is de fam'ly pride.\"\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat--\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE NEW RICH\n\n\n  Sis' Mush A. Roon sprung up over night\n  An' to name whar she sprung f'om ain't polite;\n  But she spreads 'erself wuss'n me or you,\n  An' wid on'y one foot to stan' on, too.\n        An she ain't by er new-come self in dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE WIBBLY WABBLY CALF\n\n\n  Cunnin' little donkey-baby--\n      \"Ye-haw! Ye-haw!\" What a funny laugh!\n  Soun' jes like a creaky, cranky\n      Seesaw--seesaw!\n  Wasn't nothin' funny roun' dat\n      We saw--we saw!\n  'Tel we glimpsed de stagger-gait dat\n      He saw--he saw!\n  Brindle strikin' swagger-gait when\n      She saw--she saw--_her wibbly wabbly calf_!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  Den we j'ined wid Mister Donkey,\n      \"He-haw! He-haw!\" How we-all did laugh!\n  But we laughed at some'h'n' mo' dan\n      He saw--he saw!\n  Donkey couldn't see de ears dat\n      We saw--we saw!\n  Rabbit lopin' down de road, we\n      Three saw--three saw!\n  Wagged his ears an' called him daddy!\n      \"Haw-haw! Haw-haw!\" How dat--who dat laugh?\n  An' de last to see de joke was _wibbly wabbly calf_!\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TURKEY-GOBBLER\n\n\n  Ol' Gobbly struts aroun' de stable\n  An' th'ows out hints o' de rich man's table,\n  An' he h'ists his tail an' spreads it wide,\n  To display his cuyus graveyard pride.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in pride like dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CAULIFLOWER\n\n\n  When de cabbage got ambitiom, in a uppish hour\n  An' lost 'is head an' bu'st into flower\n  Wid 'is brains outside, an addled, at dat--\n  He sot 'isself up for a 'ristocrat.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE STEPMOTHER\n\n\n  Sis' Dominick follers her brood o' ducks\n  To de bayou's edge, an' she clucks an' clucks:\n  'Dis stepmammy job, oh me, oh me!\n  Ain't all dat it's quacked up to be!\"\n        But she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat--\n        But she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FROG\n\n\n  Ol' Br'er Frog ain't much to sing,\n  But he clairs a log in a single spring,\n  An' jedgin' 'im by his bigoty ways,\n  He's clean forgot 'is tadpole days!\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAT\n\n\n  Br'er Rat in de corn-bin over-fed\n  An' under-worked, an' now he's dead;\n  He craved to live lak a bloated chief,\n  An' now he ain't nothin' but a ol' dead thief.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOCKING-BIRD\n\n\n  Br'er mockin'-bird sings in de live-oak shade,\n  A secon'-hand chant or a serenade;\n  He'll take off a pa'tridge, a robin, or a jay,\n  But he'd nuver make a name no other way.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MUSHROOM\n\n\n  Dey's many a musharoon good to de tas'e\n  An' rich for de table, dat goes to was'e\n  'Ca'ze folks don't dast to gether it in\n  For de way it favors its dung-hill kin.\n        An' it ain't by itself condemned like dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MEASURING WORM\n\n\n  When Br'er Measurin'-worm strikes out so brave,\n  Makin' tend he kin measure you for yo grave,\n  Wid all 'is stride an' all 'is stren'th\n  He can't measure mo'n 'is own little len'th.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself made cheap like dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself like dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TOP-KNOT HEN\n\n\n  Hit's a proper pride in Sis' Top-knot's breast\n  Dat makes 'er step to march 'er crest;\n  Yit jalousy follers 'er 'roun' de shed\n  On de count o' dat innercent tufted head.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself pursued lak dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTOO FAMILIAR\n\n\n  De cantelope gits mighty bilious\n  F'om runnin' wid punkins too familias,\n  So it's banished out for its sociable sin\n  Along wid its yaller kitchen kin.\n        An' it ain't by itself in dat, in dat--\n        An' it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE 'POSSUM\n\n\n  Br'er 'Possum makes pertend he's dead\n  Whilst shots goes whizzin' over 'is head.\n  But time de hounds is out o' sight,\n  He's up an' \"hongry for a fight!\"\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in a bluff like dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE OWL\n\n\n  When de big owl calls out \"_Who--ooo--ooo--!!!!!_\"\n  In de dark o' de moon, like night-owls do,\n  De chillen, a-beggin' to play out late,\n  Come tumblin' back into Daddy's gate.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat--\n        No, dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHAMELEON\n\n\n  De camelia-lizard is a turn-coat man,\n  An' he borries his colors where dey's \"room to stan'\";\n  He mought keep solid as a county candidate,\n  But you couldn't sca'cely find 'im on a map o' de State.\n        But he ain't by 'isself lost out, like dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CATERPILLAR\n\n\n  Whilst she eats de groun' f'om onder 'er feet,\n  Sis' Caterpillar's weavin' 'er windin'-sheet;\n  But 'er red eyes shine an' 'er grass-green-hair,\n  An' 'er short life's bright, so she don't care.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat--\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nDR. DRAKE\n\n\n  Ol' Dr. Drake wid 'is college waddle\n  An' Latin inscriptioms on 'is noddle,\n  Would part wid 'is gait an' 'is shimmerin' back\n  To perscribe a _crowin'-powder_ an' nuver say \"Quack!\"\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PEACOCK\n\n\n  Br'er Peacock 'lows he's a 'ristocrat,\n  Wid mighty fine clo'es, an' vain at dat;\n  He'll answer yo' glance wid col' surprise\n  An' look you over wid a thousan' eyes!\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n  THE ALLIGATOR\n\n\n  Br'er Alligator kin grin a mile,\n  But dey ain't no inducemint in his smile;\n  Whilst he ain't no race-horse, yit dey say\n  A little alligator goes a mighty long way.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE TERRAPIN\n\n\n  Br'er Tarrapin draws in 'is head so knowin',\n  You can't tell whether he's comin' or goin',\n  But _his_ mind ain't mixed--he's layin' low\n  Tel he sees which way he's obleeged to go.\n        An' he ain't no new politician in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DANDELION\n\n\n  De dandelion flower blooms out so young\n  Wid a look in its face like a sassy tongue,\n  Den it grows light-headed wid self-conceit\n  Wid a flighty ol' age, for full defeat.\n        An' it ain't by itself, pert chillen, in dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE CUD\n\n\n  \"Life's give an' take,\" Sis' Cow, she laugh.\n  So I gives my milk an' dey takes my calf.\"\n  An' when contentment's hard to fin',\n  She chaws 'er cud to ease 'er min'.\n        And you ain't by yo'self, Sis' Cow, in dat--\n        No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MIRROR\n\n\n  Br'er Donkey, drinkin' at de brook,\n  Surveys hisself wid offish look,\n  An' 'low: \"You Jackass makes too free!\n  Huccome you dast to drink wid me!\"\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        Oh, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nGOSLINGS\n\n\n  De purty yaller goslin's say:\n    \"Oh, what--oh, what's de use!\n  When Mama say, 'Come, walk dis way\n    An' ac' jes like a goose!'\n      Oh, what's de use--oh, what's de use?\n        I's boun' to grow a noddle,\n      Like every goosey, goosey, goose,\n        An' waddle, waddle, waddle!\n\n  \"But Mama say: 'Don't talk dat way!\n    Come, waddle like a mild goose,\n  F'om side to side, wid proper pride--\n    Not like a woodsy wild goose!\n      Dey's plenty use--dey's plenty use!\n        Come, git yo' education!\n      See how to waddle an' tote yo' noddle\n        Accordin' to yo' station!'\"\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PET\n\n\n  De little white chicken dat's petted too much\n  Gits stunted in growth f'om de sp'ilin' touch.\n  An' she'll nuver make a hen so brave an' good\n  As ef she went a-pickin', an' worked wid de brood.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GUINEA-HEN\n\n\n  Sis' Guinea, in proud week-day clo'es\n  Forgits how she was hatched outdo's;\n  Wid 'er red boot chicks, she cuts a dash,\n  An' calls 'er neighbors \"_Po' trash! Po' trash!_\"[1]\n        But she ain't by 'erself in dat--\n        But she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE MOON\n\n\n  Dey say Sis' Moon daresn't shine at night\n  Cep'n by Marse Sun's allowance o' light,\n  An' whilst he's away whar de yether moons are\n  She don't even dast to wink at a star.\n        An' she ain't de onies' wife like dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE HEN-ROOST MAN\n\n\n  De Hen-roost Man he'll preach about Paul,\n  An' James an' John, an' Herod, an' all,\n  But nuver a word about Peter, oh, no!\n  He's afeard he'll hear dat rooster crow.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nA GUILTY CONSCIENCE\n\n\n  Dat little yaller pup 's got so many lickin's\n  For pesterin' all de ducks an' chickens,\n  Dat whenever he hears any barn-yard strife,\n  He looks over his shoulder an' runs for 's life.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE BAT\n\n\n  Br'er Bat flaps out in de gloomin' dark,\n  An' even ef he's boun' for a harmless lark,\n  He favors de devil an' he keeps sech hours\n  Dat he seems in cahoot wid de evil powers.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nINCUBATOR CHICKENS\n\n\n  Dem inkybator chickens dat's hatched by de clock,\n  Wid a lamp for love, is lonesome stock;\n  Dey feeds in droves, but dey envies de others\n  Dat scratches for grubs wid any ol' mothers.\n        An' dey ain't by deyselves, po' orphans, in dat--\n        No, dey ain't by deyselves in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIREFLY\n\n\n  Br'er Lightnin'-bug is a gay yo'ng spark,\n  But he nuver is yit put out de dark;\n  He shines for 'isself in 'is zigzag flight,\n  An' he's middlin' sho he's de sou'ce of light.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n\n\n\nTHE THISTLE\n\n\n  De thistle-stalk sends up a noble bloom\n  Wid de shape of a flower an' de thought of a plume,\n  But its prickle-y ways turn friendship down;\n  So it stands all alone, in its velvet gown.\n        An' it ain't by its lonesome self in dat--\n        No, it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GRAY SQUIRREL\n\n\n  De gray squir'l lives a nachel life,\n  Wid friends an' foes an' chillen an' wife;\n  But whenever he gits his picture took,\n  He snatches dat nut, to appear in de book.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nLOOK OUT FOR MISTER BEE\n\n\n  Look out for Mister Bee in de punkin-flower!\n    Plenty gallinippers in de grass!\n  Mighty close tie 'twix' wings an' stings\n    Better let de honey-bee pass!\n                  Z--Z--Z, Z, Z!\n        Better let de honey-bee pass!\n\n  White-face bumblebee--white folks' ways--\n    Never give a sassy answer back!\n  But don't you trus' de black-face, no matter what he says!\n    Give de nigger bumblebee de track!\n                  Z--Z--Z, Z, Z!\n        Give de nigger bumblebee de track![2]\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ROSE\n\n\n  When Sis' Rose th'ows open her heart _too proud_,\n  She blooms mighty brief in Beauty's crowd;\n  'Ca'ze the rains beat in an' de bees make free\n  'Tel de heart o' de rose is sad to see.\n        An' you ain't by yo'self, Sis' Rose, in dat--\n        No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE LOCOMOTIVE\n\n\n  Dey say Sis' Ingine's fiercest scream\n  Don't mean nothin' but lettin' off steam,\n  But wid so much wrackage behin' 'er back,\n  Seem like she say: \"Git out o' my track!\"\n        An' she ain't by 'erself, old Mis, in dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOAT\n\n\n  No matter how much she strive to 'spire,\n  Sis' Nannie Goat's measured 'g'inst some'h'n' higher;\n  \"First cousin to a sheep\" an' \"de po' man's cow,\"\n  Is hol'-down luck, come when, come how.\n        An' she ain't by 'erself helt down like dat--\n        No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FIG\n\n\n  De fig dat's \"sweet enough to eat\"\n  Is _sweet enough_, but _not too sweet_;\n  But de honey-lip fig in de blazin' light\n  Is a battle-ground whar de varmints fight.\n        An' it ain't by itself in dat, in dat--\n        An' it ain't by itself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE FRIZZLED CHICKEN\n\n\n  Dat frizzledy chicken, he steps so spry,\n  An' he totes 'is head so pompious high,\n  Like as ef he tries, wharever he goes,\n  To rise above dem rough-dried clo'es.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE ENDLESS SONG\n\n\n  Oh, I used to sing a song,\n  An' dey said it was too long,\n  So I cut it off de en'\n  To accommodate a frien'\n                Nex' do', nex' do'--\n  To accommodate a frien' nex' do'.\n\n  But it made de matter wuss\n  Dan it had been at de fus,\n  'Ca'ze de en' was gone, an' den\n  Co'se it didn't have no en'\n                Any mo', any mo'--\n  Oh, it didn't have no en' any mo'!\n\n  So, to save my frien' from sinnin',\n  I cut off de song's beginnin';\n  Still he cusses right along\n  Whilst I sings _about_ my song\n                Jes so, jes so--\n  Whilst I sings _about_ my song _jes so_.\n\n  How to please 'im is my riddle,\n  So I'll fall back on my fiddle;\n  For I'd stan' myself on en'\n  To accommodate a frien'\n                Nex' do', nex' do'--\n  To accommodate a frien' nex' do'.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE EEL\n\n\n  Br'er Eel got a mighty jewbious name,\n  But maybe he ain't so much to blame;\n  He couldn't squirm out ef he nuver ventured in,\n  An' he resks his all when he resks his skin.\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE RAIN-CROW\n\n\n  Br'er Rain-crow sho kin prophesy,\n  Caze he reads his wisdom f'om de page on high;\n  His mind ain't clogged wid secon'-hand facts,\n  But de moon an' de skies is his almanacs.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE GIRAFFE\n\n\n  Br'er Gy-raffe don't make no pertense\n  O' not seein' over 'is neighbor's fence,\n  An' ef he'd listen close-t, I 'spec'\n  He'd hear somebody say: \"Rubber-neck!!!\"\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        But he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE BLACK SHEEP\n\n\n  De black sheep says, \"Oh, what's de use\n  To shun de mire an' de muddy sluice?\n  For whether I walks for praise or blame,\n  Dey'll call me 'black sheep,' jes de same!\"\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE PRIZE-WINNER\n\n\n  Dat Berkshire horg in de blue ribbon pen\n  Come home wid de heavy-weight prize again;\n  He looks mighty pompious in 'is stall,\n  But he's on'y a fat horg, after all.\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat--\n        An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\nTHE DOG\n\n\n  I can't talk dog an' he can't talk man,\n  Yit Rover an' me, we onderstan';\n  I wag my tongue an' he wags 'is tail,\n  An' Love explains whar grammars fail.\n        An' we ain't by ourselves in dat, in dat--\n        No, we ain't by ourselves in dat.\n\n\n       *       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] The guinea-fowl strays away from home and makes her nest in the\nfields. The newly hatched guinea-chicks are beautiful, dainty things,\nwith coral-colored feet which look very fine. The guinea's cry, loud and\nharsh, sounds like \"Potterack!\" or \"Poor trash!\"\n\n[2] The white-faced bee does not sting.","title":"Daddy Do-Funny's Wisdom Jingles","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":6964}