W'en de jewdraps 'gins to glisten,
An' de east am growin' red,
An' de catbird am a-singin' in de trees;
W'en de swallers an' de martins
Am a-quar'lin' in de shed,
An' de hollyhocks am callin' to de bees;
W'en de gray mule 'gins to whinny
An' de porker 'gins to squeal,
Den it's time to be a-wo'kin' in de mo'n,
Kase de sun am climbin' higher
An' de han's am in de field—
An' de darky am a whis'lin' in de c'on.
W'en de fog hab lef' de valley,
An' de blue am in de sky,
An' de bees am wo'kin' in de medder lot;
W'en de hollyhocks am drowsin',
An' de sun am ridin' high,
An' de dusty country road am blazin' hot;
Den de darky 'gins to listen—
As de catbird quits his song—
Fo' de soundin' ob de welcome dinner-ho'n,
Kase his knees am growin' wabbly,
An' de rows am growin' long—
An' he's hoin' an' a-whis'lin' in de co'n!
W'en de fiery sun am smilin'
An' a-sinkin' in de wes',
An' de shadders creep along de dusty road;
W'en de martins am a-chatter'n'
An' dey hurry home to res',
An' de longes' row ob all am nea'ly hoed;
W'en de bullfrog 'gins to holler,
An' de cowbell down de lane
'Gins to tinkle in a way dat's mos' fo'lo'n,
Den amid de gloomy echoes
Comes dat soul-refreshin' strain—
Ob de darky as he whis'les in de co'n!
THE PILOT.
BY JOHN B. GOUGH.
John Maynard was well known in the lake district as a God-fearing, honest, and intelligent man. He was pilot on a steamboat from Detroit to Buffalo. One summer afternoon—at that time those steamers seldom carried boats—smoke was seen ascending from below; and the captain called out, "Simpson, go below and see what the matter is down there."
Simpson came up with his face as pale as ashes, and said, "Captain, the ship is on fire!"
Then "Fire! fire! fire!" on shipboard.