BY GRACE McGOWAN COOKE.
I can’t read, yit I knows de Book,
As you won’t never know it.
“You reads a chapter every day?”
Well, honey, you don’t show it.
Now, gal, you lay it by, an’ sing
De hymn I loves de best,
‘Bout de wicked cease dey troublin’,
An’ de weary be at rest.
De wicked—dat’s dese new style folks,