Uncle Cap Interviewed

GOOD-MORNIN ', Mahsr — thank you, sah; I's tol'able myself,
Considerin' dat it's almos' time I's laid upon de shelf;
De onlies' t'ing dat bodders much is right aroun' in here,
Dis mis'ry in my back dat won't recease to persevere.

An' so you come to see me, sah, beca'se you hab been to!'
Dat I's de oldes' man about? Yes, I is mighty ol'!
A hundred an' eleben years dis comm' Christmas-day —
I couldn't tell ezzackly, but dat's whut people say.

When I come to dis country rust dar wa'n't no houses 'roun',
An' me an' my ole mahsr had to camp out on de groun';
De fust house dat was 'rected, sah, I helped in raisin' it —
Sometimes I tries to 'member whar it sot, but I forgit.

You Liza! ain't you nebber gwine to set dat pot to bile!
Niggers nebber was so lazy when your lader was a chile.
Dat ar's my youngest daughter, sah, a-washin' ob de greens;
She was born de year dat Jackson fit de battle ob Orleans.

Dey ain't wui shucks, dese young folks dat's a-growin' up now'days;
I nebber seed no niggers yit dat had such triflin' ways.
I b'lieve dis country's gwine to smash — I knows, at any rate,
Dat t'ings ain't like dey used to wuz in ole Virginny State.

So you thought 'twas Souf Ca'lina, sah, whar I was born an' raised?
No! I'm from ole Virginny, an' fur dat de Lord be praised!
Virginny niggers always wuz de best dat you could buy;
Poor white trash couldn't git 'em, 'ca'se de prices wuz so high.

Yes, sah, I's from Virginny, an' I reckon dat you mout
Have heerd of folks I knowed — dey're often talked about.
Dar's Ginnle Washin'ton, tur one; he lived acrost de road;
I 'spect you've heerd of him, sah? He wuz one ob dem I knowed.

He rode about de country on a big old dapple-gray,
An' used to come an' dine with mahsr 'bout ebery udder day;
De fines'-lookin' gentleman dat I 'most eber seed —
He tried to buy me; but old mahsr told him, " No, indeed! "

Whut do I t'ink of freedom? I duuno; it's true I's frec,
But now I's got so awful old, whut good is 'at to me?
I nebber bodders 'bout it much — to tell the troot, my min
Is tuk up now in t'inkin' 'bout de place whar I's a-gwine.

De hymn says: " John de Baptis', he wuz nuffin but a jew,
But de Holy Bible tells us dat he wuz a preacher too, "
An' if a 'ligious jew can 'mong de chosen few advance,
Dere shorely ain't no question but a nigger'll hab a chance.

I done been had religion now fur gwine on sixty year,
An' my troubles is 'mos' ober, fur de end is drawin' near;
An' I know dat when I mount de skies de Lord will make ob me
A young an' likely nigger, sah, jus' like I use to be.