THE STORY OF LI’L’ HANNIBAL
Once on a time, ‘way down South, there lived a little boy named Hannibal, Li’l’ Hannibal. He lived along with his gran’mammy and his gran’daddy in a li’l’ one-story log cabin that was set right down in a cotton field. Well, from morning until night, Li’l’ Hannibal’s gran’mammy kept him toting things. As soon as he woke up in the morning it was:
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, fetch a pine knot and light the kitchen fire.”
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, fetch the teakettle to the well and get some water for the tea.”
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, mix a li’l’ hoecake for your gran’daddy’s brea’fus’.”
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, take the bunch of turkeys’ feathers and dust the ashes off the hearth.”
And from morning until night, Li’l’ Hannibal’s gran’daddy kept him toting things, too.
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal,” his gran’daddy would say, “fetch the corn and feed the turkeys.”
“Oh, Li’l’ Hannibal, take your li’l’ ax and chop some lightwood for gran’mammy’s fire.”