The Fire
Dat fiah's real good company, when ole Win' start ter blow,
Ain't nobody know much mo'n what mah fiah know;
Got sense enough ter hide in wood, en keep hissef real dark,
'Cep' mebby, when he gib back-talk, wid a sputter en a spark.
Las' night, Ah's settin' heah lak dis;—en, honey, it's de trufe!
Ah seen a hill en a grebbig place, wid towers on de roof.
Right in dat fiah Ah seen a fiel', wid ho'ses prancin' 'tween,
Lak when we-all had tunnymints, en crown Miss Nanny queen.
Ain't nobody know much mo'n what mah fiah know;
Got sense enough ter hide in wood, en keep hissef real dark,
'Cep' mebby, when he gib back-talk, wid a sputter en a spark.
Las' night, Ah's settin' heah lak dis;—en, honey, it's de trufe!
Ah seen a hill en a grebbig place, wid towers on de roof.
Right in dat fiah Ah seen a fiel', wid ho'ses prancin' 'tween,
Lak when we-all had tunnymints, en crown Miss Nanny queen.
De fiah was lak de duck pond in a sunset,—gole en raid,
En sudden, Ah speak out mah mine: "Huccome you know?" Ah said,
Bout we-all's fiel' en tunnymints? You ack des lak you seen
De gemmen ride wid speahs 'n all, ter crown Miss Nanny queen!"
Dat fiah it sputter en it spark. "Kerchunk!" de big log fall,
An' Ah says,—"You mine yo' manners, or don' say nuffin' 'tall!"
Den all at once Ah onderstan'. Dat fiah it cayn't fool me—
Dem logs was f'om our hillside, off we-all's hickory tree!
En sudden, Ah speak out mah mine: "Huccome you know?" Ah said,
Bout we-all's fiel' en tunnymints? You ack des lak you seen
De gemmen ride wid speahs 'n all, ter crown Miss Nanny queen!"
Dat fiah it sputter en it spark. "Kerchunk!" de big log fall,
An' Ah says,—"You mine yo' manners, or don' say nuffin' 'tall!"
Den all at once Ah onderstan'. Dat fiah it cayn't fool me—
Dem logs was f'om our hillside, off we-all's hickory tree!
Dat's where dey stood, Miss Nanny'n dem, beneaf its branches' shade,
Dat's where we walked de time Ole Marse was in de chu'ch-yard laid;
Dat's where de drum-beats called to War, 'n we watched,— Ole Miss'n me,—
'Tel our two boys had went f'om sight,—beneath dat hickory tree. . . .
Yas, miss,—'cause trees is queer. It's folks what pass away;
But, trees stays put, above de things dat happen, day by day;
En when dey time comes ter bu'n out, dey natchally cayn't go
Ontel dey hearts gib up de things dey's seen, en hidden so. . . .
Dat's where we walked de time Ole Marse was in de chu'ch-yard laid;
Dat's where de drum-beats called to War, 'n we watched,— Ole Miss'n me,—
'Tel our two boys had went f'om sight,—beneath dat hickory tree. . . .
Yas, miss,—'cause trees is queer. It's folks what pass away;
But, trees stays put, above de things dat happen, day by day;
En when dey time comes ter bu'n out, dey natchally cayn't go
Ontel dey hearts gib up de things dey's seen, en hidden so. . . .
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