De hoss, he riz wid a snort an’ a whicker,
An’ showed dat he wuz sump’n uv a kicker!
An’ den an’ dar, Brer Rabbit ’gun ter snicker,
Wid, “Hol’ ’im, Brer Fox! ’twon’t do ter flicker!
Ef you make ’im stan’ still, you kin ride ’im de quicker!”
De hoss, he r’ar’d an’ raise a mighty dust up,
An’ fust thing you know, Brer Rabbit hear a bust-up!
“I hope, Brer Fox, dat you ain’t much hurt—
But yo’ wife’ll be mad, kaze you done tored yo’ shirt!”
BRER RABBIT FINDS THE MOON IN THE MILL POND
Oh, one bright day in de middle er May,
Brer Rabbit wuz feelin’ fine;
He tuck ter de road, an’ never know’d
De place whar he wuz gwine!
“Oh, fur an’ free,” sezee, “siree,
No gal kin change my min’!”
Brer Tarrypin, sly, he wunk one eye,
Un’neat’ his green-gourd vine!
He holla an’ say, “Whar you gwine dis day,
Wid yo’ pipe an’ walkin’-cane?”
Brer Rabbit wave his han’ like a gal do her fan—
“My heart’s ’bout ter bust wid pain;
“I’m a heap too nice, I ain’t laugh’d but twice
Sence de big Jinawary rain;
My day’ll be done ef I don’t have some fun—
Dey’ll call me Sunday-Jane!
“I’ll git sollumcholic ef I don’t have a frolic,
My head’ll git flabby an’ swink;
I chaw de pine-bud, kaze I’m ’bout ter lose my cud
An’ some nights I don’t sleep a wink!