SPOOKS
Josephine Merwin Cook.
WHEN I wuz a li'l' black mite,
I uster lissen out at night,
Kase de ol' grey-owl, in de sycamo' tree,
Used ter hoot, an' hoot, at me:
"Whoo Whoo', ah, Whoo' cooks fo' yo' all?"
He uster skeer me mos' ter deaf,
Twell I foun' out who wuz wastin' his bref;
Mah mammy said, tain't nuffin, chile,
But de hoot-owl, callin' all de while:
"Whoo', Whoo', ah, Whoo' cooks fo' yo' all?"
Do Ise growed up now, I tell yo' true,
Dat same ole soun' meks me shiver clean th'oo,
When I goes down de road, in de dark, yo' kno',
I trimmel all obber, ah suahly do:
"Whoo', Whoo', ah, Whoo' cooks fo' yo' all?"
OLD HALLOWE'EN FRIENDS
J. W. Foley.
OHO! Mr. Ghost, with your raiment of white,
Come to frighten me out of my wits in the night!
With your eyes flaming forth like two coals, and your breath
Bearing fire that would scare a poor mortal to death;
With your rows of great teeth grinning widely at me
And your loose-hanging gown flapping under the tree
In the orchard out there—oh! I know how you're made,
And the youngsters who made you, so I'm not afraid.
