Charles Bertram Johnson, "Christmas" (1906)
Jus' lack Ise gwine to fly;
Well, whah's you been a-stayin'?
Yoh membry sho ain't spry.
Ain't you felt de 'lectric thrill
Thu de air a-hummin'?
The smell o' good things cookin'?
De signs o' good times comin '?
Seed a 'possum tother day
Fresh from a 'simmon tree
Good gracious man! take-take keer
'Fore sin gets de heels o ' me.
Whah's ol' Tray 'n ' all de houn's?
Dat 'possum sure is mine,
Gwine to sary 'a warr'nt on him,
Fore ol' Ephrim makes de fin'.
Gwine to fall upon his trail,
An' chase 'im day an' night,
Ontell he is in dis bag,
All shet up safe an' tight.
G'way, darky! staihin' at me!
D'want no pardner in dis deal,
Case when I cotch dat 'possum
He'll make my Christmas meal.
You'se jus' wantin' to be 'roun',
I reads you thu' an' thu',
Bout de time he's good an' brown
To eat up ha'f my stew.
Well, I spec's you can come—
Bring Marfy, too-an' say!
Don't fuhgit a jimmyjohn
You know, hits Christmas day.
Published in Colored American Magazine, February 1906