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179

TIME GOES BY TURNS

181

Dar's a pow'ful rassle 'twix de Good en de Bad,
En de Bad's got de all-under holt;
En w'en de wuss come, she come i'on-clad,
En you hatter hole yo' bref fer de jolt.
But des todes de las' Good gits de knee-lock,
En dey draps ter de groun' ker flop!
Good had de inturn, en he stan' like a rock,
En he bleedzd fer ter be on top.
De dry wedder breaks wid a big thunder-clap,
Fer dey ain't no drout' w'at kin las',
182

But de seasons w'at whoops up de cotton crap,
Likewise dey freshens up de grass.
De rain fall so saf' in de long dark night,
Twel you hatter hol' yo' han' fer a sign,
But de drizzle w'at sets de tater-slips right
Is de makin' er de May-pop vine.
In de mellerest groun' de clay root'll ketch
En hole ter de tongue er de plow,
En a pine-pole gate at de gyardin-patch
Never'll keep out de ole brindle cow.
One en all on us knows who's a-pullin' at de bits
Like de lead-mule dat guides by de rein,
En yit, somehow er nudder, de bestest un us gits
Mighty sick er de tuggin' at de chain.
183

Hump yo'se'f ter de load en fergit de distress,
En dem w'at stan's by ter scoff,
Fer de harder de pullin', de longer de res',
En de bigger de feed in de troff.
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