Classic Poem

Yistiddy—which he does it every Sunday, pretty nigh—
Old Uncle Johnny Stiles, my neighbor, come a-ridin' by,

And passed the time o' day with me, and lit, and hitched his mar',
And come and tuk his usual cheer in my pyazer thar;

And chawed, and chawed, and chawed, but never spit and never stirred,
And thunk, and grunted twiced or thriced, but uttered nar' a word;

Twell finnilly he spit a powerful wad, and worked his lip,
And—“Jeems,” said he, “d'you hear about yan row in Massissip?

“I've just been over to the Squire's, a'readin' of the news:
My son, this here oncivil rights is givin' me the blues.

“It do look like them Yankees is the curiousest set;
They will make treuble jest as sure as water'll make you wet!

“I jest was startin' out to learn to like 'em some agin;
And that was not an easy thing, right after what had bin!

“Right after they had killed my boy, had—eh—had killed my Bill—
And after Sherman's folks had broke my dam and burnt my mill;

“And stole my watch, and mules, and horses, and my cotton and my corn,
And left my poor old Jane and me, about as we was born!

“I say, 'twas monstrous hard, right after all these things was done,
To love them men. My Bill—eh—he—he—was a splendid son!

“But then I tried to see it right, allowin' all along
They saw ther side as we saw our'n , and maybe both was wrong.

“ I didn't want no war at fust; but when it had to be
I holp old Georgy; for I nat'ally could not stand, and see

“No lot of mortal men a'holdin' her in base restraint;
No, Jeems, my skin is tolubble white, but, sir, my liver ain't!

“My blood is red—I am a man—I love old Georgy true,
And what the Guv'nor says to do, that thing I'm gwine to do.

“But now, as I was sayin', when I jest had come to see
My way was clear to like 'em, and to treat 'em brotherlee;

“When every nigger's son is schooled (I payin' of the tax,
For not a mother's son of 'em has more than's on ther backs),

“And when they crowds and stinks me off from gittin' to the polls,
While Congress grinds ther grain, as 'twere, 'thout takin' of no tolls;

“And when I stands aside and waits, and hopes that things will mend,
Here comes this Civil Rights and says, this fuss shan't have no end!

“Hit seems as ef, jest when the water's roughest, here of late,
Them Yanks had throwed us overboard from off the Ship of State.

“Yes, throwed us both—both black and white—into the ragin' sea,
With but one rotten plank to hold; while they, all safe and free,

“Stands on the decks, and rams their hands into ther pockets tight,
And laughs to see we both must drown, or live by makin' fight!

“For, Jeems, what in this mortal world of trouble kin be done?
They've made this Southern plank so rotten, it will not bear but one!”

Then Uncle Johnny riz, and slowly walked towards the gate,
And swung it powerful slow, like he was liftin' of a weight;

Then give a sudden grunt, and spryly h'isted on his mar';
And sot, and hilt his right hand up, high up into the a'r,

As if he was about to make his 'davy 'fore the co'te;
“Yes, Jeems,” says he, “they'll make it so that both of us cain't float.

“Now, ef I'm drowned, I'd like to know who'll gather in my grain,
And feed my gals, and care for wife—my dear old faithful Jane?”

(And here I'll say I've knowed him now for fifty year or more,
And never heerd him swear, nor cuss a single cuss before:)

“I tell you, Jeems, I kin not help it— maybe it's a sin;
By God! ef they don't fling a rope, I'll push the nigger in!”