Snow 's a-fallin' on de medders, all erroun' me now is white, But I 's still kep' on a-roostin' on de fence; Isham comes an' feels my breas'bone, an' he hefted me las' night, An' he 's gone erroun' a-grinnin' evah sence. 'T ain't de snow dat meks me shivah; 't ain't de col' dat meks me shake; 'T ain't de wintah-time itse'f dat's 'fectin' me; But I t'ink de time is comin', an' I 'd bettah mek a break, Fu' to set wid Mistah Possum in his tree. Wen you hyeah de da'kies singin', an' de quahtahs all is gay, 'T ain't de time fu' birds lak me to be 'erroun'; Wen de hick'ry chip is flyin', an' de log 's been ca'ied erway, Den hit's dang'ous to be roostin' nigh he groun'. Grin on, Isham! Sing on, da'kies! But I flop my wings an' go Fu' de sheltah of de ve'y highest tree, Fu' dey 's too much close ertention--an' dey's too much fallin' snow-- An' it's too nigh Chris'mus mo'nin' now fu' me. FISHING Wen I git up in de mo'nin' an' de clouds is big an' black, Dey's a kin' o' wa'nin' shivah goes a-scootin' down my back; Den I says to my ol' ooman ez I watches down de lane, "Don't you so't o' reckon, Lizy, dat we gwine to have some rain?" "Go on, man," my Lizy answah, "you cain't fool me, not a bit, I don't see no rain a-comin', ef you's wishin' fu' it, quit; Case de mo' you t'ink erbout it, an de mo' you pray an' wish, W'y de rain stay 'way de longah, spechul ef you wants to fish." But I see huh pat de skillet, an' I see huh cas' huh eye Wid a kin' o' anxious motion to'ds de da'kness in de sky; An' I knows whut she 's a-t'inkin', dough she tries so ha'd to hide. She 's a-sayin', "Would n't catfish now tas'e monst'ous bully, fried?" Den de clouds git black an' blackah, an' de thundah 'mence to roll, An' de rain, it 'mence a-fallin'. Oh, I's happy, bless my soul! Ez I look at dat ol' skillet, an' I 'magine I kin see Jes' a slew o' new-ketched catfish sizzlin' daih fu' huh an' me. 'T ain't no use to go a-ploughin', fu' de groun' 'll be too wet, So I puts out fu' de big house at a moughty pace, you bet, An' ol' mastah say, "Well, Lishy, ef you t'ink hit 's gwine to rain, Go on fishin', hit 's de weathah, an' I 'low we cain't complain." Talk erbout a dahky walkin' wid his haid up in de aih! Have to feel mine evah minute to be sho' I got it daih; En' de win' is cuttin' capahs an' a-lashin' thoo de trees, But de rain keeps on a-singin' blessed songs, lak "Tek yo' ease." Wid my pole erpon my shouldah an' my wo'm can in my han', I kin feel de fish a-waitin' w'en I strikes de rivah's san'; Nevah min', you ho'ny scoun'els, need n' swim erroun' an' grin, I 'll be grinnin' in a minute w'en I 'mence to haul you in.