 | The tar-baby and other rhymes of Uncle Remus |  |
81
UNCLE REMUS CAPTURES A DREAM
83
Out dar in de dark, when folks is asleep,
Dey's Things gwine on dat'll make you creep;
Dey's a crowd er Sump'n's out dar at play
Fum de middle er de night spang on twel day,
An' de mortal stillness dat falls on all
Is de noise dey makes when dey cry an' call—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
Dey's Things gwine on dat'll make you creep;
Dey's a crowd er Sump'n's out dar at play
Fum de middle er de night spang on twel day,
An' de mortal stillness dat falls on all
Is de noise dey makes when dey cry an' call—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
An' Dreams, long dremp, slip outer de swamp,
An' make der plans fer a mighty romp,
An' doors fly open widout a screak
When dey start ter play at hide-an'-seek;
An' dey rides der ponies, Wing an' Breeze,
Out over de fiel's an' thoo de trees—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
An' make der plans fer a mighty romp,
An' doors fly open widout a screak
When dey start ter play at hide-an'-seek;
84
Out over de fiel's an' thoo de trees—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
Der frocks is made er de new moonshine,
Kyarded an' rolled, an' spun mighty fine;
Dey spins um deyse'f, an' trims um all
Wid de trailin' fog dat you see in de fall;
An' de time fer ter ketch dem Dreams an' Things
Is when dey er swingin' in spider-web swings—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
Kyarded an' rolled, an' spun mighty fine;
Dey spins um deyse'f, an' trims um all
Wid de trailin' fog dat you see in de fall;
An' de time fer ter ketch dem Dreams an' Things
Is when dey er swingin' in spider-web swings—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
An' ef you er ol' an' not too fat,
I speck you kin ketch um un'neat' yo' hat;
De fust un I cotch I wuz past my prime,
But I've ketched um sence, mo' an' many's de time;
An' when you ketch um dey er yone fer good,
Kaze dey can't git away, an' dey wouldn't ef dey could—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
I speck you kin ketch um un'neat' yo' hat;
De fust un I cotch I wuz past my prime,
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An' when you ketch um dey er yone fer good,
Kaze dey can't git away, an' dey wouldn't ef dey could—
It's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
Dey flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.
You'll hatter be ol' an' natchally tough,
Kaze de sights dey'll show you'll be mo' dan enough;
An' you better be asleep ef you ketch a Dream,
Bekaze ef you ain't it'll make things seem
Like dey did ter de man what fell fum de tree:
He struck a lim' an' he say, “Hee-hee!
I b'lieve in my soul”—ker-blamity-blum!—
“Dat de whole wide worl' done got out er plum'!”
Kaze de sights dey'll show you'll be mo' dan enough;
An' you better be asleep ef you ketch a Dream,
Bekaze ef you ain't it'll make things seem
Like dey did ter de man what fell fum de tree:
He struck a lim' an' he say, “Hee-hee!
I b'lieve in my soul”—ker-blamity-blum!—
“Dat de whole wide worl' done got out er plum'!”
86
De las' Dream I cotch I helt it ter my year,
An' I wish I could tell you all what I hear—
It wuz, “Oh, hol' me tight! oh, hol' me fas'!
I'm de breff what you see on de lookin'-glass;
I'm de silver bugle, I'm de weddin'-bell;
I'm dem what stumbled an' dem what fell;
I'm de ol' home spring, I'm de orchard path,
I'm de big back-log, I'm de kitchen h'ath.
An' I wish I could tell you all what I hear—
It wuz, “Oh, hol' me tight! oh, hol' me fas'!
I'm de breff what you see on de lookin'-glass;
I'm de silver bugle, I'm de weddin'-bell;
I'm dem what stumbled an' dem what fell;
I'm de ol' home spring, I'm de orchard path,
I'm de big back-log, I'm de kitchen h'ath.
“I'm de chap you toted when you wuz strong;
I'm de song you sung him all night long;
I'm de ol' red road an' de tryin' hill;
I'm de creek an' de pon' an' de ol' gris'-mill;
I'm de spinnin'-wheel an' de bangin' loom,
De long, wide hall an' de upstairs room;
I'm Mistiss an' Marster an' de Buckra man;
I'm kittle an' trivet, I'm skillet an' pan.
I'm de song you sung him all night long;
I'm de ol' red road an' de tryin' hill;
I'm de creek an' de pon' an' de ol' gris'-mill;
I'm de spinnin'-wheel an' de bangin' loom,
De long, wide hall an' de upstairs room;
I'm Mistiss an' Marster an' de Buckra man;
I'm kittle an' trivet, I'm skillet an' pan.
87
“I'm dem what go an' dem what come;
I'm dem what march ter de beat er de drum;
I'm dem what dance by de light er de moon;
I'm de dance itse'f, an' I'm de chune;
I'm dem what sung de midnight song;
I'm de way dey went when dey went along;
I'm de flutterin' han's (like dey ringin' a bell);
I'm de ‘So-long, honies!’ an' de ‘Far'-you-well!’
I'm dem what march ter de beat er de drum;
I'm dem what dance by de light er de moon;
I'm de dance itse'f, an' I'm de chune;
I'm dem what sung de midnight song;
I'm de way dey went when dey went along;
I'm de flutterin' han's (like dey ringin' a bell);
I'm de ‘So-long, honies!’ an' de ‘Far'-you-well!’
“I'm dem what fiddled twel de break er day;
I'm de torch dey drapped when dey went away;
I'm dem what rambled an' dem what run,
Dem what frolicked an' had der fun;
I'm dem what plowed an' hoed de corn;
I'm de plow an' de hoe an' de dinner-horn;
I'm dem what looked wid de seein' eye;
I'm de bended head an' de long ‘Good-by!’
I'm de torch dey drapped when dey went away;
I'm dem what rambled an' dem what run,
Dem what frolicked an' had der fun;
I'm dem what plowed an' hoed de corn;
I'm de plow an' de hoe an' de dinner-horn;
I'm dem what looked wid de seein' eye;
I'm de bended head an' de long ‘Good-by!’
88
“An' any warm night, ef you'll set right still,
You kin hear me callin' fum over de hill;
An' over de meadows, an' down de dreen,
You kin hear me whisper er what I seen;
An' de Willis-Whistlers dey'll jine in,
An' tell whar I'm gwine an' whar I been!
An' it's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
I flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.”
You kin hear me callin' fum over de hill;
An' over de meadows, an' down de dreen,
You kin hear me whisper er what I seen;
An' de Willis-Whistlers dey'll jine in,
An' tell whar I'm gwine an' whar I been!
An' it's over an' under an' 'roun' ag'in,
I flits wid de shadders an' flies wid de win'.”
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