THE RATTLE-SNAKE
Br'er Rattle-snake rattles befo' he springs,
But he warns too late to 'scape 'is stings;
His high-class manners don't count for much
'Ca'ze dey grafted on to a sarpent's touch.
An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat—
An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE PERSIMMON
Is you little gals, growin' into women,
Ever tasted a snappy young persimmin?
It takes a hard frost to make it sweet,
An' it's ol' an' swiveled 'fo' it's fit to eat!
But it ain't by itself, sharp chillen, in dat—
No, it ain't by itself in dat.