^^■'*. ,H o .^>^* <^' "^ ,-^ o m- A V ^^ . "V • o « ^ ^ - -nz^o^ '% ^oV' V V, -^0 ' * ° ' <^^ A. ^ ^^/O^ . ''^ .^ : -^^.^ V -S vT ^ A^ ^^^"-^ . ^y^^^*' ^ ^ \ ■<^ . 'o . » 4 O 4'^' , * O « '' ■({,> ,0 ^ ^. o > iiammg s QII|tUun AND OTHER POEMS Some bits of humor and truth gathered at first hand from among my people U:iG: WILSON Harrisonburg, Va. Price 40 Cents Copyriprht 1920 by U. G. Wilsoa ©C1A572723 M2\ 1920 oP-" FOREWORD The condition of illiteracy which was forced upon the Nci^ro before his emancipation, and which yet pre- vails in many localities, is probably responsible for the reputation he enjoys of I)eing the author of a peculiar wit and pliilosophy not possessed by other races. This same circumstance has also militated against the expres- sion of tliat philosophy and wit in the linguistic excel- lence that characterizes the diction of more favored racial groups. This'' very fact, however, serves as a means of attracting attention to his many crude utter- ances of wit, wisdom, and humor, to the end that some- body is not only entertained but cheered and strength- ened in journeying along life's rugged way. It is the desire to share in this good work by making available to the reading public some bits of this native humor and truth, gathered at first hand, which has prompted me to send forth these lines — together with the wish to pay a tribute of love to the memory of my sainted Father and Mother. U. G. WILSON ®ablp nf (HanUntB Mammy's Chillun 1 Angie Clears The Way 2 Uncle Ned's Observations 3 A Sermon Boiled Down 4 The River Of Time 5 The Seasons 6 The Noble 7 Negro Soldiers In The World War 7 Since Mammy Died 9 Aunt Chlo' On Friendship 9 A Predicament 10 Calling The Dark-Town Parson 11 MAMMY'S CHILLUN Some folks wants lots o' chillun A-runnin' roun' about; Dey says a home widout 'em Is a mighty po' make-out. But if dey had my young uns, Dey'd sing a difF'unt song, Dey'd say, "Good Lawd, delibbah, An' let it be fo' long." Ise got six pesky young uns, Dat worries me ter deaf; Dey don't give dere ole mammy De time ter ketch her brcf. Dat one, he wants some 'lasses; Dis one, he wants some bread; One done upsot de baby An' pitched him on his head. Den one he gits to fightin' Anur-r little brat; De gal she starts ter bawlin' Kase Joe done kill her cat. At night it ain't no better; It's "Come here, iMammy, please, Kase Ben's got all de kiver, An' I'se about ter freeze." Sometimes dey yells aroun' me From mornin' until night. Unless I want some work done — Den ain't a one in sight. Now, all dem who wants chillun' Jes' come and 'ply ter me; I'll give 'em six an' pay 'em Ter sot dere mammy free. ANGIE CLEARS THE WAY "Bill Jones, why don't yer be a man An' speak out jes' fer once? Yer keep a comin' ter my house An' actin' like a dunce. "Yer comes in here an' takes yer seat, 'Way back dar by de do', An' when I 'gins ter inchin' up You's ready fer ter go. "Now, is yer skeered o' sump'n, Bill? Come, tell yer Angelinc: What is it dat is 'plexin' you An' restin' on yer min'? "Now, ain't yer thinkin' 'bout de joy O' havin' of a wife Ter cook yer eatin's, patch yer clo'es, An' comfort yer through life — "An' wants ter ask yo' Angeline Ter be yo' lovin' bride, An' ain't got nerve to 'spress yo'se'f Fer fear o' bein' denied? "Now, Bill, if dat's de trouble, pshaw! Here's all I got ter say: Jes' speak right out in meetin', kase Dar's nuffin' in de way." "0 Angeline! O Angeline! Ise happy as can be! Yer sho did lif a burden when Yer spoke dem words ter me. "Ise got de nerve ter ax yer now; An' ax yer sho I will: Can't yer give up yer loneliness An' tie up ter yo' Bill?" "Of cose! Lawd knows I loves yer, Bill! Come, 'brace yo' honey tight! Now — um — um — um — umph ! We'll tie de knot tonight." UNCLE NED'S OBSERVATIONS If yer see a toatl a-jumpin' Like he iiuvvali jumped befo' iOr a roostah 'gins ter cackle An' lie hens dey 'gins ter crow, If de sunimah nights git shorter An' de day keeps gittin' long — Now, dar ain't no use in talkin', Kase dar's sunip'n done gone wrong. Dar's a snake somewhar a-crawlin' 'Bout dat lively jumpin' toad, An' de ole hen's gone ter strikin', An' de roostah's got de load. Now de worl' am cuttin' capers Dat am mos' too hard fer me; But dar's sump'n wrong when actions Ain't jes' like (ley use ter be. If yer see a widdah woman Primpin' up an' gettin' gay, An' she got some kind of 'gagemenl Wid de parson every day — If some politishin feller Comes an' grabs yer by de han' Pats yer on de back an tells you Dat he is de people's man — Dar is sump'n wrong, I tell yer, An' dar aint no bettah sign; Dat ar little primpin' widdah Done got sump'n on her min'. An' de politishin' feller. He is in de same ole boat, Kase he's runnin' for some office. An' jes' wants ter git yer vote. A SERMON BOILED DOWM Sly sisfahs an'^ my brucld'rin' Assembled here ter day, I'll talk a little Sbripter, An' den we'll sing an'' pray^ I wants yer all to listen, Bofe saint an' sinner man; Ivase what Ise now expressin' Am hard to undahs'tan. Be good to dem daf cuss yer, De beam take f'oni yo' eyes. An' when you'^ neighbor slaps yer,,. Don't let yo' temper rise. But turn right roun*^ an tell hira l)c job ain't quite complete; Den git some soap an' wattah An' wash his dirty feet. Don't covet f'om yo' neighboh: Don't try ter take his life; His ox yer mus'n pester; Don't think about his wife. Don't M'^orry 'bout yer eatin's Or what yer's gwine to w'ar;, Do like de birds an' lilies — Jes' loaf aroun' somewhar. De Han' dat feeds de sparrer Will give ter me an' you; Jes' loaf aroun' and trus' Him,, Dat's all yer got ter do. Now brudderin' an' sistahs, De hour am gittin' late; We'll stop right here a minnif An' pass aroun' de plate. I wants a good collection: De parson mus' be fed; He mus'n steal his chickens. Nor beg his daily bread; He's got to hab terbacker; De madam mus' hab snufT; An' nickels, dimes, an' pennies Ain't gwine ter make enough. So come along, my sistahs! Some bruddah sing a shout! Now make de quartahs jingle, But keep de buttons out. THE RIVER OP TIMI: Time, thou deep and mystic river-, Ever rolling swiftly by, Thou dost bear upon thy bosom Universal destiny. Men of every clime and nation Sport upon thy sickly shore. Spend one little hour, then, gathered By thy waves, are seen aio more. Kingdoms ride upon thy l)reakers. Empires mount thy surges high, (Great men swim awhile thy shallow's, Play their little part— and die. JVIightv. swiftly-rolling river, Millions on thy banks now stand, Soon to hear the solemn summons To the unknown spirit land. Though threescore and ten bleak winters Stainp their impress on the brow. Though the step, once lirm and steady, May be slow and feeble now; Yet, abiding hills and valleys Mock the brief sojourn of man; And the oldest earthly pilgrim Is but born, in God's great plan. Seas once lashed in wrath by Xerxes^ Hills that felt great Caesar's tread. Mountains scaled by proud Napoleon Still remain; but they are dead. Aged and hoary things terrestrial But one lesson teach — sublime: Mortal life is but a ripple Dancing on the stream of time. THE SEASONS ^Mien nature wakes, and robes itself in green. And blossoms sweet witli fragance fill fbe air. And birds of sirnny climes are heard and seen, Dispensing blithesome music ev'rywhere, 'Tis spring. When higher clindjs the sun, mid clearer skies. And fruit and flowers and fields of golden grain Bring beauteous scenes of landscape to our eyes, And man and beast seek shady haunts again, 'Tis summer. When verdant spring and summer's golden hue Have vanished with the passing of the year, And cooler winds, no longer dank with dew. Blow mournful strains across the wood- land sere, 'Tis autumn. When noon-day shades their dwarfy lengths extend. And chillier winds their blasts begin to blow. And life retires, a while in sleep to spend Beneath the white-spread canopy of snow, 'Tis winter. Thus hath this transient, changing human life Its spring-time, summer, fall, and wintry blast : Each feels the joys and pangs of earthly strife ; Each mortal sleeps the sleep of death, at last. THE NOBLE What if but a lowly cabin Marks the spot where we were born? What if shattered were the windows, And the doorstep old and worn? What though flowers of wealth and fashion Ne'er did bloom for me or you? We are noble, my dear brother, If we nobly think and do. Though mid scenes of classic splendor Other eyes first saw the light; Though by royal hands and tender Some are shielded day and night — Whether born in deepest thralldom Or 'neath freedom's skies of blue, We are only noble, brother. If we nobly think and do. They who could not keep the monster Want outside their cottage door Fought the battles of this nation. Spilt their blood from shore to shore. Oft they've liumble hands extended To the sick and dying, too: These are noble deeds — each prompted By a heart that's pure and true. Cease thy boasts, O proud descendants Of the favored of the earth; Cease thy boasts of wealth and kindred; Cease to frown on lowly birth. 'Tis not man's exalted station; 'Tis not wealth, nor race, nor hue: W'C are only noble, brother, When the heart is pure and true. NEGRO SOLDIERS IN THE WORLD WAB O'er all the w^orld, for human rights, The war-cloud doth descend. And men are called from every land That standard to defend. From city, town, and country-side, From mountain top to sea. Rings out once more the battle cry, "Make way for liberty!" I see the lads of sable hue — True i)atriots, one and all — Come rushing to the listing place In answer to the call. I see them bid their friends goodby When starting for the camp; I see the sparkle in their eye; I hear their steady tramp. I see them board the transport ship And give one longing glance; I see them wave one last adieu, Then sail away for France. I see them on the battlefield, A true and valiant band; Their captain bids them face the foe — They charge at his command. Mid gas and smoke and bursting shell. With banner lifted high. They fight their way to victory, While foemen quake and fly. Their white comrades — the Fifty-sixth — Have fallen into grief; Through vales of death they double-quick And rush to their relief. Before the walls of Metz they stand. Now many thousand strong; I hear them sing in jdaintive tones: "Our stay here won't be long." The tyrant sees impending doom And mercy doth implore; The terms of armistice are signed, And now the war is o'er. Thus hath the Negro played his part To make the whole world free. And give the boon of human rights To men across the sea. Forbid it. Lord, that e'er at home These blessings be denied To him, for which in other lands He fought and bled and died. SINCE MAMMY DIED No watchin' at de windah now, To see her boy come back; No welcome waitin' in de do'; No nice and tasty snack; Nobody tucks me in at night; Nobody lie'ps me do what's right — Since Mammy died. I miss de face dat use ter smile As I come up de road, De eyes dat noticed I was tired, De ban's dat eased my load; I miss de home-fire burnin' bright— In fac', de world it don't seem right Since Mammy died. AUNT CHLO' ON FRIENDSHIP Did yer ebber see yo' shadder On a bright an' sunny day, How it sticks ter yer an' mimics Eb'rything yer do an' say? Did you ebber see its capers When de clouds come in de sky, How it 'gins to scamper f'om yer, Fixin' fer ter say goodby ? Frien's is 'zackly like dem sh adders, Stickin' ter yer all de time When yer's got some cash an' eatin's. Plenty health an' in yo' prime; But w^hen hard luck obertakes yer, Health done gone an' money too. Den dey sneaks away an' leaves yer Jis like sunshine shadders do. Ise done come ter dis conclusion: Lay yer frien's all on de shelf; If 'tis cloudy or de sun shines. Try ter peg it out yerself. A PREDICAMENT [Tliese lines were written in 1904, suggested hy the attitude of Congress and the Supreme Court toward several test cases of disfranchisement, anil by a case of lynching in Ohio about the same time.| I hab ofttimes heard repeated Dese here words once dark ter me: "We is jis betwix' de debbil An' de deep bkie sea." But I neither knowed de meanin' Ob dem til jis here ob hite Wlien I lieard dey's lynchin' black folks In de great oF Buckeye State. Now, it use ter be de custom In de days ob long ago Dat de black folks got protechum. In de state ob 0-hi-o. But dey says things in Ohio Ain't no nio' like use ter be; So we's jis betwix de debbil An' de deep blue sea. When we take our suffrage troubles To de Nation's cote supreme, Hopin' fer ter git dat justice Dat hab bin our daily dream. We is tol' by dat tribunum, Wid politeness an' good grace, Dat dey lias no jurisdicshum — None what-ebber in de case. Some folks says: "Go up ter Congress, Whar dar's backbone in de men; If dar's any justice fer yer. You'll be sho to git it den." When we takes 'em up ter Congress, All dem statesmen 'gins to cry: "'Tis de cotes dat mus' decide 'em; We's got udder fish ter fry." It's a mighty hard way dealin' Wid de black folks — clar' it is; But it proves de one conchushum I hab come ter, dat is dis: Dat de black man's situashum In dis proud Ian' of de free Is jis somewhar twix' de debbil An' de deep blue sea. CALLING THE DAKK-TOWN PARBOIL The pai*son of the Dark-Town church Took sick one day and died. JHis people loved him for his gifts; Thai could not be denied. They said he'd hold the Bible up And Jioller, "Come down, Love!" Then shut his eyes and grit his teeth And coo just like a dove. To fdl his place the deacons met; They all were of one mind; They thought a man like Parson Jones Was mighty hard to find. Now many would-bes came around; The deacons tried them all, To see which one would suit the best, An who should get the call. The first, a well-trained college man. Essayed to win the prize: He preached in higlifalutin style; They did not bat tlreir eyes. When he sat down, a deacon said; "Dat man ain't gwine ter pass; I'd jes' lief hear de cymbals soun'> Or tinklin' of some brass." Another brother came around — Somehow, by hook or crook — He had no use for manuscript And wouldn't touch a book. He talked about two hours or more, Then fell down on his knees. The deacons shook their heads and said, "Dese folks am hard to please." Next Sunday morn the little church Was crowded just the same, To hear old brother Thunderbolt, Of Timber-Valley fame. The parson rose on scriefFure finie; He glanced his eyes around: **Ise glad fer see so many out Ter hear de Gospel soun', "My inferduction will be shorf; i De body I'll omit; I'll jump right in de rousemenf part:: An' den Ise gwine ter quit. "My frumpef ain't in trim today; ^ But if you hc'p me out, I'll do de very bes' I kin, Ter give yer all a shout. "^ He raised his voice an octave higher,. Pulled off a moaning stunt; The sisters all began to rock; The men began to grunt. He put his Bible on his head And scampered all about; That made the sisters shed their coats In readiness to shout. He stuck his lingers in his ears, And then began to sing; A deacon bellowed out, '"Come on! Dat's got de proper ring." He double-quicked to front and back. And rolled his eyes above, Then said three times in thunder tones, "COME DOWN, REDEEMIN' LOVE!" The brothers jumped up in the air; The sisters fell right out; The parson raised the closing hjinn, "Now let God's chillun shout!" M The deacons shook the parson's hand; The sisters fanned his brow; And all agreed, "Dis Dark-Town Church Sho's got some preacher now." Hl^'FI 7 9 1 oTo'^' ^^0-' . '^V ^^''\ c^ • ^^ ^- o ■••• a''"' \ b v < V 0^ **^^/r^^ A^ .0 ° " " ♦ O .•y o - o ^ '^ <*• <" O S o> ^^"^ "- -it. ...^==x APR ''"^ N. MANCHESTER, INDIANA 46962 |.Jj3 ) -^ r,j cs^ J 1 W^' f< !i ^^^