The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1903-12-24
YO' boys cant fool me dat erWay.' Den

10 UUyS Cd@A LOOl lie udL orWdy.' Den
1 say, Ne min, be de ole headman.
Well git er fo'ked linn, an put er
shirt n britches an er ole hat on de
head, an we TAX some hogs bristles
an mex mustashes an WhiSkers, an
I'll git up on de roof an let de ole
Sandy Claws down DIES es softly Den
vile we iXin up de ole man we all
sing some mo- err dat song an laf
bout how we gwinter do 'em up.
ter so long er time, we git every
fling all right, an we start down ter
de quatahs. Unc' Ike so curious an
contrary dat he can't live in peace wild
de res er der niggers, an ole marse
ha' ter bull i'm er cabin way off f'Om
de res web de ole man could fuss n
quail DIES so much as he feel like. We
ha' ter be mighty keerful gWine trough
de weeds, ease we see er light in Unc'
1ke'S cabin trough err hole in de chin
bly,. Any yudder time Aun' Sulzie done
ben settin' by de fab er noppin' an
err smokin' dat ole pipe twel de dead
hours er de night; but now she done
laid down, ease 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' up in de co'ner wild he shucks,
platin' an ole boss collar wat he gwine
ter sell mex day fo' ter git de Crismus
dram wild. An he had free big ole
niggerkiller Eaters roastin' in de ashes
TO- de brekfus.
"Aun' Sukie keep er sayin': Ike,
wy dom yo' come ter bed? Dom yo'
know hits err gittin' late"
"Unc' Ike says: 'Sukie, yo' des' shet
up yo' mouf l know wat yo' studyin'
bout, yo' ole fool Yo femme lone an
eff yo' sleepy go ter sleep, l 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
sump'n' bout Ne min, git yo' sassy
rasc'ls yit. See f ! dom tell ole marse.'
"Aun Sukie say: wat y0 er NUT
term an mum'lin' bout, Ike? I 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 l evuh seed.
Yo' layin' dar finkin' bout dat mess
bout Sandy Claws. Hain't 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' ba'kin' up de wrong stump dis
dime, 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 'hgion an bout anything
TO- ter worry Aun' Sukie, who aim
sayin' nofin' tall. After long time
Unc' Ike drops off ter sleep an gin
ter sno', an den Aun' Sukie rise up an
look all erroun' des' as cunnin'lack
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 l gon' ter climb up on de house.
clumb right easy up de co'ner an
outer de aidge er de ruff, an f'om dat
I eased erlong twel l got ter de chin
bly,. l 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 l fotch de yudder
laig down I say ter myself:
cole 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 DIES
as e come in sight Aun' Sukie squalled
lack er crippled coon, 'Lawd er massy,
Ike, he's come!
"Des den de clof fetched de little
blaze er fab, an hit blazed way up, an
nit stifled me twel l los my holt, an.
wild er Glitter clatter rip an ker blim,
landed down in de hot ashes, right
On top er de Sandy Claws an all mixed
up wild Unc' likes taters.
"Yo' neber hearn sich er row 'twix'
dis an Judgment. Aun' Sukie she
Squal: ooh, marse! Oh, mistis! Hep!
Hep! De ole boys come alter me an
Ikev An she went er spinnin' out
trough de dead teaweeds. Unc' Ike,
ne done riz, an w'iles l scuffiin' wild de
Sandy Claws he got er Ak handle an
wus des er Iambastin' me.
cater w'iles l say: please, Unc' Ike,
dom hit me no mo-! Hits Ceeze, Unc'
Ike! Please dom hit me no mo-! But
lie ole scamp, gittin' madden dan evan
wen he fin out hits me, KEEP er peltin'
me an er sayin': Yes, yo' rascl, yo'
lone ruint my taters! Yo' ben singin'
bout me. III big Ike you! | gwine
little Ike you! l gwine Sukie Blueskin
you!
''Bout dat time ole marse he come