I has hyeahd o’ people dancin’ an’… An’ I ‘s been ’roun’ lots of otha… But of all de whistlin’ da’kies da… De whistlin’est I evah seed was o… In de kitchen er de stable, in de…

STEP me now a bridal measure, Work give way to love and leisure, Hearts be free and hearts be gay — Doctor Dan doth wed to—day. Diagnosis, cease your squalling —

Bring me the livery of no other ma… I am my own to robe me at my pleas… Accepted rules to me disclose no t… What is the chief who shall my gar… No garb conventional but I 'll at…

I done got 'uligion, honey, an’ I… Evahthing I see erbout me ’s jes’… An’ it seems lak I do’ want to do… But jes’ run an’ tell de neighbour… I done shuk my fis’ at Satan, an’…

THE cloud looked in at the window… And said to the day, ‘Be dark!’ And the roguish rain tapped hard o… To stifle the song of the lark. The wind sprang up in the tree top…

GOO’—BY, Jinks, I got to hump, Got to mek dis pony jump; See dat sun a—goin’ down 'N’ me a—foolin’ hyeah in town! Git up, Suke —go long!

UNDERNEATH the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and ga… As when first they marched away, Smile on lip and curl on brow,

The sun is low, The waters flow, My boat is dancing to and fro. The eve is still, Yet from the hill

DEAR heart, good—night! Nay, list awhile that sweet voice… When the world is all so bright, And the sound of song sets the hea… Oh, love, it is not right—

IT’s all a farce, —these tales th… About the breezes sighing, And moans astir o’er field and del… Because the year is dying. Such principles are most absurd, —

Whut time 'd dat clock strike? Nine? No—eight; I didn’t think hit was so late. Aer chew! I must 'a’ got a cough, I raally b’lieve I did doze off—

THERE are no beaten paths to Gl… There are no rules to compass grea… Each for himself must cleave a pat… And press his own way forward in t… Smooth is the way to ease and calm…

‘In the fight at Brandywine, Blac… a scythe, sweeps his way through t… '_Myths and Legends of Our Own L… Gray are the pages of record, Dim are the volumes of eld;

‘LIAS! ’Lias! Bless de Lawd! Don’ you know de day’s erbroad? Ef you don’ git up, you scamp, Dey’ll be trouble in dis camp. Tink I gwine to let you sleep

HE scribbles some in prose and ve… And now and then he prints it; He paints a little, —gathers some Of Nature’s gold and mints it. He plays a little, sings a song,