He look as meek as Moses, but his looks is full ob lies;
He doesn’t move a muscle, he doesn’t even wink;
An’ you say his dispersition’s better’n people tink.
He stan’ so still that you s’pose he is a monument of grace;
An’ you almos’ see a ’nevolent expression on his face;
But dat ’nevolent expression is de mask dat’s allers worn;
For ole Satan is behin’ it, jest as sure as you is born.
Den you cosset him a little, an’ you pat his other end,
An’ you has a reverlation dat he ain’t so much your friend;
You has made a big mistake; but before de heart repents,