W'en de fish begin to nibble, an' de co'k begin to jump, I 's erfeahed dat dey 'll quit bitin', case dey hyeah my hea't go "thump," 'Twell de co'k go way down undah, an' I raise a awful shout, Ez a big ol' yallah belly comes a gallivantin' out. Need n't wriggle, Mistah Catfish, case I got you jes' de same, You been eatin', I 'll be eatin', an' we needah ain't to blame. But you need n't feel so lonesome fu' I 's th'owin' out to see Ef dey ain't some of yo' comrades fu' to keep you company. Spo't, dis fishin'! now you talkin', w'y dey ain't no kin' to beat; I don' keer ef I is soakin', laigs, an' back, an' naik, an' feet, It 's de spo't I 's lookin' aftah. Hit 's de pleasure an' de fun, Dough I knows dat Lizy 's waitin' wid de skillet w'en I's done. A PLANTATION PORTRAIT Hain't you see my Mandy Lou, Is it true? Whaih you been f'om day to day, Whaih, I say? Dat you say you nevah seen Dis hyeah queen Walkin' roun' f'om fiel' to street Smilin' sweet? Slendah ez a saplin' tree; Seems to me Wen de win' blow f'om de bay She jes' sway Lak de reg'lar saplin' do Ef hit's grew Straight an' graceful, 'dout a limb, Sweet an' slim. Browner den de frush's wing, An' she sing Lak he mek his wa'ble ring In de spring; But she sholy beat de frush, Hyeah me, hush: Wen she sing, huh teef kin show White ez snow. Eyes ez big an' roun' an' bright Ez de light Whut de moon gives in de prime Harvest time. An' huh haih a woolly skein, Black an' plain. Hol's you wid a natchul twis' Close to bliss. Tendah han's dat mek yo' own Feel lak stone; Easy steppin', blessid feet, Small an' sweet. Hain't you seen my Mandy Lou, Is it true? Look at huh befo' she's gone, Den pass on! A LITTLE CHRISTMAS BASKET De win' is hollahin' "Daih you" to de shuttahs an' de fiah, De snow's a-sayin' "Got you" to de groun', Fu' de wintah weathah 's come widout a-askin' ouah desiah, An' he 's laughin' in his sleeve at whut he foun'; Fu' dey ain't nobody ready wid dey fuel er dey food, An' de money bag look timid lak, fu' sho', So we want ouah Chrismus sermon, but we 'd lak it ef you could Leave a little Chrismus basket at de do'. Wha 's de use o' tellin' chillen 'bout a Santy er a Nick, An' de sto'ies dat a body allus tol'? When de harf is gray wid ashes an' you has n't got a stick Fu' to warm dem when dey little toes is col'? Wha 's de use o' preachin' 'ligion to a man dat's sta'ved to def, An' a-tellin' him de Mastah will pu'vide? Ef you want to tech his feelin's, save yo' sermons an' yo' bref, Tek a little Chrismus basket by yo' side.