"Quite ready for—for anything, Everett."
QUIT YO' WORRYIN'
By Anne Virginia Culbertson
Nigger nuver worry,—
Too much sense fer dat,
Let de white folks scurry
Roun' an' lose dey fat,
Nigger gwine be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at.
Nigger jes' kain't worry,—
Set him down an' try,
No use, honey, fer he
Sho' ter close he eye,
Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pass he troubles by.
Cur'ous, now, dis trouble
Older dat hit grown,
'Stid er gittin' double,
Dwinnle ter de bone;
Nigger know dat, so dat why he lef' he troubles 'lone.
Nigger nuver hurry,
Dem w'at wants ter may;
Hurry hit mek worry!
Now you year me say
Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet ol' Def half-way!
Den quit yo' hurryin',
Quit yo' worryin'!
W'at de use uv all dis scurryin'?
Mek ol' Time go sof' an' slow,
Tell him you doan' want no mo'
Dish yer uverlastin' flurryin',—
Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin'
Folks de faster to'des dey burryin'!