The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1902-12-11

| Wen git er foked linn, an put er
shirt n britches an er ole hat on de
head, an we TAX some hogs brjstles
an mex mustashes an whiskers, an
! III git up on de roof an let de ole
I Sandy Claws down DIES es softly Den
vile we fixin' up de ole man we all
sing some mo- er dat song an laff
! bout how we gwinter do 'em up.
| "Ater so long er time, we git every
fing all right, an we start down ter
! de quatahs. Unc Ike so cu'ious an
! contrary dat he can't live I'm peace wild
de res er der niggers, an ole marse
ha' ter bull i'm er cabin way Off fom
de res web de ole man could fuss IN
quail DIES so much as he feel like We
| ha' ter be mighty keerful gwine trough
de weeds. case we see er light In Unc'
Ike's cabin trough er hole in de chin
bly, Any yudder time Aun Sukie done
ben settin' by de fab er noppin an
err smokin' dat ole pipe twel de dead
hours err de night; but now she done
laid down, case she 'spectin' ole Sandy
Claws, an she heah ole mis- say dat
he ain gwine come home long as any
pusson wake bout de house. She lay
in down, an done had 'er head XIV
cred up wild de quilts. Unc' Ike, he
settin' ND In de coner wild he shucks,
platin' an ole boss collar wat he gwine
ter sell mex day TO ter git de Crismus
dram wild An he had free big ole
niggerkiller 'taters roastn' in de ashes
70. de brekfus
"Aun' Sukie keep er sayin': Ike,
wy don yo' come ter bed? Don yo'
know hits er gittin Late?
"Unc' Ike says: 'Sukie, yo' des' shet
up yo' mouf. know wat yo' studyin'
bout, yo' ole fool. Yo' femme lone, an
eff yo' sleepy go ter sleep, tell yo.'
''Den l sorter hum low:
"Paterroller, paterroller, let Ike pars,
Sukie cook slow, but she eat mighty fas';
Sorry TO lame Niger gets dar las;
Do, Mistah Paterroller, let Ike pars.
"Unc' Ike, mus er hearn me, ease
, he stop right still an cock he yeah side
ways an listen an den mumull out
sumpn' bout Ne min, git yo' sassy
rasc'ls git. See f don tell ole marse.'
"Aun' Sukie say: Wat yo' er NUT
term an mumlin' bout, Ike! l does
wish yo'd come on ter bed an quit stir
rim up dem Goals
"Unc Ike say: rs er-talkin' ter my
self, an faint none er yo' business.
Sukie, yo' de bigges' gump evuh seed.
Yo' layin' dar fnkin' bout dat mess
bout Sandy Claws. Haint done seed
yo' ole stockin hangin' dar? Yo' fink
ole Sandy Claws gwin ter pay any
'tention ter dat ole wool stockin'! No,
stree, bob Ole mis- des' ruint yo', an
yo' bakin' up de wrong stump dis
time, TO sho' yo is
"Bimeby de ole man git sorter tied,
an he kiver dem taters up mighty good
an start ter bed. Den alter de ole man
done laid down, he keep er-talkin' bout
crops an bout 'ligion an bout angling
To- ter worry Aun' Sukie, who ain
sayin noffin' tall. Alter long time
Unc' Ike drops off ter sleep an gin
ter sno', an den Aun Sukie rise up an
| look all erroun' des' as cunninlack
an den drap down lack she's er
sleep.
"Dey wus er little chunk er fab wat
KEEP er winkin' an er blinkin' In de
hath, but we done ben er watchin'
| trough dat hole twel we gittin' tied,
an las | gon' ter'climb up on de house.
/ clumb right easy up de coner an
outer de aidge er de run, an f'om dat
| eased erlong twel got ter de chin
! bly,. | got er straddle er de ridgepOle,
an den | fix my ole Sandy Claws an
gun ter git ready TO de cirkis. De
chimbly wus about er foot too low
down, SOS ha' ter let one foot res on
de chimbly an wen | fotch de yudder
laig down l say ter myself:
"Ole Sukie Blueskin
She fell In love wild me-
An she ak me down ter her house
Ter drink er cup er tea.
"Down, down, down went de Sandy
Claws, breshin' de suit down, an des
as e come in sight Aun' Sukie squalled
lack er crippled coon, 'Lawd er massey,
Ike, he's come!
"Des den de clof fetched de little
blaze er fiah an hit blazed way up, an
hit stlhed me twel l los my holt an
| W ~ VI CIIlttI tiu.tcl, mp hSi phhh,
l landed down In de hot ashes, right
on top er de Sandy Claws an all mixed
up wild Unc' Ike's taters.
"Yo' neber hearn sich er row 'twix'
dis an Judgment. Aun' Sukie she
squall: oh, marse! oh, mistis! Hep!
Hep! De ole boys come alter me an
Ike! An she went er spinnin' out
trough de dead teaweeds. Unc' Ike.
he done riz, an w'iles scutfiin' wild de
Sandy Claws he got er AK handle an
wus des err lambastin' me.
AFTER w'ilos say: Please, Unc' Ike.
don hit me no mo-! Hits Ceeze, Unc'
Ike! Please dom hit me no mo-! But
de ole scamp, gttin' madden dan evan
wen he fin cut hits me, KEEP er peltin'
me an er sayin': Yes, yo' rascl, yo'
done ruint my taters! Yo' ben singin'
bout me. I'll big Ike you! | gwine
little Ike you! gwine Sukie Blueskin
your
Bout dat time ole marse he come
to'ds de quatahs, an he cotch Jack an