Daddy Do-Funny's Wisdom Jingles
Chapter 1
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DADDY DO-FUNNY'S WISDOM JINGLES
BY RUTH McENERY STUART
ILLUSTRATED BY G. H. CLEMENTS
NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1916
Copyright, 1910, 1911, 1912, 1913, by The Century Co.
_Published, October, 1913_
To the Memory of those faithful brown slave-men of the plantations throughout the South, Daddy's contemporaries all, who during the war while their masters were away fighting in a cause opposed to their emancipation, brought their blankets and slept outside their mistresses' doors, thus keeping night-watch over otherwise unprotected women and children--a faithful guardianship of which the annals of those troublous times record no instance of betrayal.
FOREWORD
In presenting a loyal and venerable ex-slave as an artless exponent of freedom, freedom of conduct as well as of speech, the author of this trivial volume is perhaps not composing an individual so truly as individualizing a composite, if the expression will pass.
The grizzled brown dispenser of homely admonitions is a figure not unfamiliar to those who have "moved in plantation circles" in the cotton and sugar country, and touched hands with the kindly dark survivors of the old regime.
If the man, Daddy Do-funny, was unique as an individual, perhaps in the very fact of an individuality unembarrassed by the limitations of convention, of education and of precedent, he becomes in a sense typical of his people and of his time.
Of course, a man is not called Do-funny for nothing, not even playfully and in the free vernacular of rusticity at its freest.
One of a small community of superannuated pensioners upon the bounty of their former owners, Daddy was easily first citizen of Evergreen annex on Crepe Myrtle plantation, which is to say he was therein a personage of place and of privilege, coming and going at will, doing as he pleased, and as, with uplifted eye, he reverently boasted, "sponsible to nobody but Almighty Gord for manners and behavior."
Even so late as this year of grace, a full half century after "emancipation," there are still to be found on many of the larger plantations in the far South a few such members of the order of the Rocking-chair, whose records of "good and honorable service" reach back through periods of bondage, even such kindergartners as septuagenarians in the privileged class, having clear title to nearly a quarter of a century of slave memories; not to mention the occasional centenarian with even his semi-occasional uncle or father poking around, toothless and white-plumed dignitaries, these, sometimes with leaders, being blind, but ever important in pride of association and memory.
It is something even if one is bent double and may never again behold the light of day, to be able to reach back into a dim and forgotten past and to say, "I remember," especially when the memory recalls days of brilliance and of importance.
But Daddy's place among the gentle Knights and Ladies of the Rocking-chair was far and away above such as these whose thoughts, alert though they were and loyal, travelled forever backward to the sweet but worn fields of memory where every pleasure is a recognition and fashions do not change--a restful retreat for dreamers whose days of activity are done.
But Daddy's mind worked forward and upward and although he did not know the alphabet excepting by rote, a common ante-bellum plantation accomplishment, and while professing high contempt for what he called "cold shelf-knowledge," his reputation for wisdom, wisdom as gleaned in observation and experience and "ripened by insight," was supreme, while his way of casually tossing it off in bits in playful epigram finally gave the word its plural form so that the expression "Do-Funny Wisdoms" came into familiar use.
As an example of his rambling talk, much of which seems at least semivagarious on transcription, I recall one of his meandering dissertations on the value of experience as superior to observation.
Several of the old people, his neighbors, had joined the listening children who surrounded him under the fig-tree, and perhaps he unconsciously deferred to them in his accent of their common possession in length of days, although he gave no sign of heed to any audience, when he said:
"Dey's mighty few facts de same behind an' befo', not to say inside an' outside, and a man can go roun' an' roun' de blackberry bush an' not git nowhar. 'Spe'unce is a thorny bramble, an' yer 'bleeged to go _th'ough_ it, to _draw blood_, an', I tell yer, _de blood is de life_!"
Although this tribute brought grunts of approval from the gray heads, Daddy was soon off at a tangent in playful fancy, hitting off a foible or "celebrating truth and justice" in one of the unconscious epigrams which it is sought herein to preserve, even when having occasionally to hammer them into shape, for, while Daddy was almost unerring in rhyme, his rhythm, never at fault in delivery, was strictly a temperamental matter, not adequately renderable in cold print.
But more than as philosopher, satirist or seer was the old man distinguished as a social factor on the place. Wherever his chair was set, there were the children gathered together, both black and white, eager listeners to his quaint pictorial recitals, even seeming to cherish the "Wisdoms" which fell from his tongue, as is not a common way with children, who seem instinctively to spurn the obviously didactic.
But Daddy's moralizing, besides its saving grace of imagery, was generally sequential and convincing; while his repartee, to use a word which seems almost a misfit in this rural setting, had a way of hitting the mark and striking fire, as when, in reply to the question from a forth-putting youngster on one occasion, "Where do you keep all your wisdoms, Daddy?" he snapped:
"In my ole toof holes, dat's whar! Wisdoms don't ripen good tel yo' toofs is ready to drap out. Ev'rybody knows dat Gord A'mighty ain't nuver is set but one live Wisdom-toof in a man's mouf--an' dat comes late an' goes early."
And then he added with a mischievous smile:
"You-all smarty undergrowth, you ain't chawed life yit. You jes 'speramintin' wid yo' milk-toofs.
"Now's yo' havin' time, chillen, but _to have an' to lose, dat's life_!
"Study wisdom now an' minch on it good wid yo yo'ng baby toofs an' hol' fas' to it, so's it'll meller down ripe, time de caverns opens for it.
"But look out! I knows a lot o' ole vacant wisdom caves for rent behin' dis crepe myrtle hedge--so, I say, watch and pray! Pray for insight an' outsight! An' even so, dey's some wisdoms so fine you can't see 'em tel you nearin' Home an' livin' on de far side o' life!"
Daddy lived alone in a tiny vine-clad cabin and there were times when he seemed frail and to need care, and the doctor said he was rheumatic. This, however, he denied, declining companionship while he insisted that the sharp pains which occasionally twisted his brow were only growing pains which he was glad to endure as not having got his growth in his first childhood, he was "'bleeged to wrastle wid it in de second," and, "of course," he added, "it comes harder when a man's bones is set."
On days when his pains were bad, he would propel himself around in a roller-chair, which he called his chariot; and although evidently suffering, he was never heard to complain. Once, when he seemed almost helpless, some one asked him how he had got into the chair, and was quickly silenced by his ready answer, "Gord lifted me in!"
Now, to Daddy clothes were clothes. In dress as in manners, he knew no obligation of precedent; and as to fashion, the word made him chuckle.
When his pains were unusually severe and it was difficult for him to get into his own garments, he did not hesitate to clothe himself in one of the flowing wrappers which his old wife, Judy, long since dead, had worn.
And thus it happened that while on some days an aged man might have been seen hobbling about, working among his plants, on others there appeared to be an old woman propelling herself around in a rolling chair; and seeing her, his neighbors, with perhaps a chuckle, would remark, "I see Daddy Do-funny is laid up ag'in!"
Another peculiar habit of the old man was the way in which he took his bath--a dangerous process, one would think, for a rheumatic, but harmless, no doubt, to growing pains. Seeing the rain coming, he would exclaim: "Gord sendeth de rain! He's offerin' me a bath--just or unjust!" Then donning his "bath-slip," an old wool wrapper of Judy's and getting into his roller-chair, he would wheel out and sit calmly in the shower, often closing his eyes and lifting his face as he exclaimed: "Bless Gord for de sweet drops! Bless Gord for de rain!" and when he had had bath enough, he would either put up his umbrella or roll his chair indoors as he felt inclined.
But perhaps we cannot get nearer the soul of the old man than by recalling a conversation which occurred during an invasion of the children, a conversation between him and his guests which is thrown into a sort of rhyme for easy memorizing, passing from one speaker to another without more than the natural pause for reply.
Obviously, the children began it:
"Ol' Daddy Do-funny, How do you come on?" "Po'ly, thank Gord, honey, Po'ly dis morn. My ol' spine it's sort o' stiff, An' my arms dey 'fuze to lif'. An' de miz'ry 's in my breas', An' I got some heart-distress. An' de growin' pains dey lingers, In my knee-j'ints an' my fingers, But I'm well, praise Gord, dis mornin'."
"Ol' Daddy Do-funny, What cuyus talk! How is you well, when you Can't even walk?"
"Hush, you foolish chillen, hush! What's dat singin' in de brush? Ain't dat yonder blue de sky? Feel de cool breeze passin' by! Dis ol' painful back an' knee, Laws-a-mussy, _dey ain't me! I'm well, praise Gord, dis mornin'!_"
RUTH McENERY STUART.
CONTENTS
Page
Daddy's Weather Prayer 3
The Old Rooster 4
The Butterfly 5
The Wren 6
The Watermelon 7
The Gourd 8
Judge Owl 9
The Mosquito 10
Confession 11
The Game-Cock 12
The Epicure 13
The Mule 14
The Grubworm 15
Rain or Shine 16
Little Green Tree-Toad 17
Sparrows 18
The Fly 19
The Little Chicken 20
The Scare-Crow 21
The Yellow Rose 22
The Ambitious Cow 23
Tried by Fire 24
Jack O' Lantern 25
The Flea 26
Will o' the Wisp 27
The Mole 28
The Runt 29
The Monkey 30
The Aristocrat 31
The Crawfish 32
The Angleworm 33
The Chimney-Swallow 34
Catching Doodle-Bugs 35
The Porcupine 36
Ants 37
The Parrot 38
The Rattle-Snake 39
The Persimmon 40
In Harness 41
The Canary 42
Answering Back 43
Dat's De Way My Lady'll Do 44
The Mammy Alligator 46
The New Rich 47
The Wibbly Wabbly Calf 48
The Turkey-Gobbler 50
The Cauliflower 51
The Step-Mother 52
The Frog 53
The Rat 54
The Mocking-Bird 55
The Mushroom 56
The Measuring Worm 57
The Top-Knot Hen 58
Too Familiar 59
The 'Possum 60
The Owl 61
The Chameleon 62
The Caterpillar 63
Dr. Drake 64
The Peacock 65
The Alligator 66
The Terrapin 67
The Dandelion 68
The Cud 69
The Mirror 70
Goslings 71
The Pet 72
The Guinea-Hen 73
The Moon 74
The Hen-Roost Man 75
A Guilty Conscience 76
The Bat 77
Incubator Chickens 78
The Firefly 79
The Thistle 80
The Gray Squirrel 81
Look Out for Mister Bee 82
The Rose 83
The Locomotive 84
The Goat 85
The Fig 86
The Frizzled Chicken 87
The Endless Song 88
The Eel 90
The Rain-Crow 91
The Giraffe 92
The Black Sheep 93
The Prize-Winner 94
The Dog 95
DADDY DO-FUNNY'S WISDOM JINGLES
DADDY'S WEATHER PRAYER
One asks for sun, an' one for rain, An' sometimes bofe together; I prays for sunshine in my heart, An' den forgits de weather.
THE OLD ROOSTER
Ef de hoa'se ol' rooster wouldn't crow so loud He mought pass for yo'ng in de barn-yard crowd; But he strives so hard an' he steps so spry Dat de pullets all winks whilst he marches by. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE BUTTERFLY
Sis' Butterfly aimed to work all right, But 'er wings dey was heavy, an' 'er head too light; So she riz in de air, 'ca'ze she see she was made Jes' to fly in de sun in de beauty parade. An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat-- An' she ain't by 'erself in dat.
THE WREN
She's a citizen-bird, Sis little brown Wren, She nests in de spring an' de fall again; "Race suicide" talk nuver fazes her, 'Ca'ze she's good for 'er ten little wrens a year. An' she ain't by 'erself, my ladies, in dat-- No, she ain't by 'erself in dat.
THE WATERMELON
Oh, Watermilion sho' is good to eat! But de darkie rates it twice-t mo' sweet, 'Ca'ze it's ap' to b'long to de yether man, An' it's mighty hard to lif' by sleight o' han'. An' it ain't by itself, made sweet like dat-- No, it ain't by itself like dat.
THE GOURD
De green gou'd on de sunny shed Was mighty proud of his pethy head, So he nuver pondered or studied or trained, An' now he's ol' an' rattle-brained. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.
JUDGE OWL
Jedge Owl 's so pompious on 'is limb, You'd s'pose dey was nobody roun' but him; He's afeard ef he was too polite You'd ax 'im whar he spent de night. But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- But he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE MOSQUITO
Wid so much Christian blood in 'is veins, You'd think Br'er 'Skitty would take some pains To love 'is neighbor an' show good will, But he's p'izenin' an' back-bitin' still. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.
CONFESSION
Dat whale wha' gulped Br'er Jonah down Was bleeged to swim close-t to de groun' Ontel he riz up an' confessed He'd swallered mo' 'n he could digest. But you ain't by yo'self, Br'er Whale, in dat-- No, you ain't by yo'self in dat.
THE GAME-COCK
Dey's some things square an' some things round, An' little game cocks ain't sol' by de pound; Dey's weighed by sand an' pluck an' grit An' de number o' dead dey leave in de pit. An' dey ain't by deyselves in rank like dat-- No, dey ain't by deyselves in dat.
THE EPICURE
Ef you keep yo' eyes on Br'er Carrion Crow, You'll wonder huccome he kin carry on so! He flies in high circles an' chooses meat Dat no honest workin'-man would eat. An' he ain't no new high-flyer in dat-- No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE MULE
Ef you quiz Br'er Mule, you'll find dat he Gits mixed on de subjec' of 'is fam'ly tree; He'll brag about 'is mammy with a noble neigh, An' deny 'is own daddy wid a ginuine bray. But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- But he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE GRUBWORM
Br'er Grubworm wrops 'isself in twine An' swings in 'is shroud on a evergreen vine, Becaze it's mortal death dat brings His on'iest chance to git 'is wings. But you ain't by yo'self, Br'er Worm, in dat-- Oh, you ain't by yo'self in dat.
RAIN OR SHINE?
Ol' Mingo, on 'is knees, he say: "Lord, teach dis nigger how to pray, Else riconcile two kinds o' weather For craps an' rheumatiz together!" But you ain't by yo'self, ol' man, in dat-- Oh, you ain't by yo'self in dat.
LITTLE GREEN TREE-TOAD
Little green tree-toad on banana leaf, Plenty po' relations all aroun' 'im in de bog; But he'd ruther be blind an' dumb an' deef Dan to hold a conversation wid a "low-life" frog! But he ain't no lonesome toady in dat-- No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.
SPARROWS
Dey say dem Sparrers come crost de seas To eat our surplus grubs an' fleas; But dey's whupped our birds off'n dis plantation, Tell we craves to constric' dey immigration. An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat, in dat-- An' dey ain't by deyselves in dat.
THE FLY
Wid dem suctious foots, seem lak Br'er Fly Mought draw down health ef he trod de sky; But he's so onpartic'lar whar he roams Dat he's got 'isself screened out o' quality homes. An' he ain't by 'isself outcas' like dat-- No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE LITTLE CHICKEN
Little yaller fluff-ball, one day out, Steps mighty high while he picks all about; Never sees de egg-shell layin' in 'is track, Much less the little piece stickin' on 'is back. But he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- But he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE SCARE-CROW
Br'er Scare-crow's built to suit 'is job Wid flappin' legs an' arms dat bob; He ain't got brains for discontent So he works widout no argument. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- No, he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE YELLOW ROSE
Dey's a sweet plantation, yaller-buff rose Dat in my ricollection grows; In my ol' dreams she seems to wait Whar she stood an' bloomed by de love-vine gate An' I ain't by myself in dreams like dat-- No, I ain't by myself in dat.
THE AMBITIOUS COW
Sis' Twis'-horn Brindle is a bothersome cow, She's boun' to raise a ruction an' she don't keer how; She craves to be de bell-cow an' lead off wid a clang, So it's all a man kin do to make 'er gallup wid de gang. An' she ain't by 'erself in dat, in dat-- An' she ain't by 'erself in dat.
TRIED BY FIRE
De sugar-cane stands so proud an' smart, You'd nuver suspicion it sweet at de heart, But to prove its sweets it yields its will To be tried by fire an' ground in de mill. An' it ain't by itself in dat, in dat-- No, it ain't by itself in dat.
JACK-O'LANTERN
Sence he los' 'is brains to git 'is smile, Brer Jack-o-lantern grins lak a wilderin' chile Widout no secrets out or in; An' de lighter in de head de broader 'is grin An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.
THE FLEA
Look out for Mr. Po'-trash Flea! Ef you let 'im come in, he'll make too free; He'll chase yo' dog till he makes 'im pant, An' he'll take yo' skin for a restaurant. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat-- An' he ain't by 'isself in dat.
WILL O' THE WISP
Ef de Wul o' de Wust would cuss an' swear An' take some shape, an' rip an' tear, It wouldn't sen' col' chills down a nigger's spine Like de changeable expression of a mystery shine. An' it ain't by its ghostly self in dat-- No, it ain't by itself in dat.
THE MOLE