Paul Laurence Dunbar

A Coquette Conquered

Yes, my ha’t’s ez ha’d ez stone—
Go 'way, Sam, an’ lemme 'lone.
No; I ain’t gwine change my min’;
Ain’t gwine ma’y you—nuffin’ de kin’.
 
Phiny loves you true an’ deah?
Go ma’y Phiny; whut I keer?
Oh, you needn’t mou’n an’ cry—
I don’t keer how soon you die.
 
Got a present! Whut you got?
Somef’n fu’ de pan er pot!
Huh! Yo’ sass do sholy beat—
Think I don’t git 'nough to eat?
 
Whut’s dat un’neaf yo’ coat?
Looks des lak a little shoat.
'Tain’t no possum? Bless de Lamb!
Yes, it is, you rascal, Sam!
 
Gin it to me; whut you say?
Ain’t you sma’t now! Oh, go 'way!
Possum do look mighty nice;
But you ax too big a price.
 
Tell me, is you talkin’ true,
Dat’s de gal’s whut ma’ies you?
Come back, Sam; now whah’s you gwine?
Co’se you knows dat possum’s mine!
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