Bill run
T’ the crib nigh whar we was, said he’d fergot
Suthin,’ ’n’ I knowed ’e never would come back.
I jes’ set thar an’ couldn’t move. He tho’t
I must ’a’ gone an’ couldn’t hear; I did
Tho’—God, how I did leg it out o’ thar!
I went an’ watered all the hogs fi’ times;
’F’ they tasted salt in what they drunk, I know
Whar’t come from. ’N’ all thet day I kep’ a-sayin:
“Them Anjelo-Saxtons jes’ don’t never quit!”