"Who's dis, who 's dis, er coddlen down here,
Wid her eyes full of greeven' tears?
Fru de chink of the do', let de lite po',
De shadders, my little gyurl skeers.
Shoo-oo-oo, shoo-oo-oo--
Rest, white chile, rest, on black mammy's breast.
"This iz the way I useter nuss you when you wuz er baby. You wuz warken'
about fo' you know'd who your mammy wuz. You see, your mar wuz so troubled
after your par went erway, she diden' take no entres' in enny thing much;
po' thing! po' thing! You'd axel cum enter this wurl' with out a rag ter
your back, if I haden' hunted up sum baby cloze your mar wo', en git em
ready."
"What made my papa go away, Mam' Sarah?" asked the child, quickly.
"I dunno fur sarten, honey, wot did make him go erway. You see, he wuzen'
lak our fo'ks. Cum frum the Norf. Pear-lak he cuden' take ter our ways,
sumhow. Mars Robert was razed in town, en he diden' lak it out here in the
country. I heered him say he wuz so tired of the country, hee'd be glad
never ter see another blade of grass grow. Mis Betsy tho't that was orful.
He wuz allers arfter your mar ter sell all of us, en sell the place en go
Norf with him ter live.
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