Drawn by Charles Sarka
“‘WHUT YO’ WANT TO SAY UNTO ME?’ INQUIRE’ LI’L’ BLACK MOSE”
“’Ca’se I’s afraid ob de ghosts,” say’ li’l’ black Mose, an’ dat de particular truth an’ no mistake.
“Dey ain’t no ghosts,” say’ de school-teacher, whut board at Unc’ Silas Diggs’s house, right peart.
“’Ca’se dey ain’t no ghosts,” say’ Zack Badget, whut dat ’fear’d ob ghosts he ain’t dar’ come to li’l’ black Mose’s house ef de school-teacher ain’t ercompany him.
“Go ’long wid your ghosts!” say’ li’l’ black Mose’s ma.
“Wha’ yo’ pick up dat nomsense?” say’ he pa. “Dey ain’t no ghosts.”
An’ dat whut all dat s’prise-party ’low: dey ain’t no ghosts. An’ dey ’low dey mus’ hab a jack-o’-lantern or de fun all sp’iled. So dat li’l’ black boy whut he name is Mose he done got to fotch a pumpkin from de pumpkin-patch down de hollow. So he step’ outen de shanty an’ he stan’ on de door-step twell he get’ he eyes pried open as big as de bottom ob he ma’s wash-tub, mostly, an’ he say’, “Dey ain’t no ghosts.” An’ he put’ one foot on de ground, an’ dat was de fust step.
An’ de rain-dove say’, “Oo-oo-o-o-o!”
An’ li’l’ black Mose he tuck anudder step.