Part 4

No use tawkin,’ sistah Ruffle Am a gittin’ out de kinks; Gittin’ up to date in fashun, She out-dresses sistah Jinks; Got a bran new dress o’ satin, Wid a hot stuff ruffl’d skirt; Way she’s lookin’ ebry dahky At her grinn’d an’ tried to flirt.

An’ she’s gone an’ got a mobeel Cumin’ down klah to her feet; One dem silks trimm’d in white kawdin,’ It’s a stunnah, kain’t be beet; An’ her hat, oh goodness grashus! Lak a flowah bed o’ bloom; An’ she fewmigate de breezes, Wid de sweetes’ kine o’ ’fewme.

Oh, yo’ know ol’ sistah Ruffle, Ustah wash erbout de town; Had a husbahn dat was leg-bowl, Jes’ as ugly as a clown; Yes de ol’ gal we’ de goggles, Hobblin’ ’roun’ wid roomotick, Diden’ hab ’em on dat ’kayshun, She was flouncin’ double quick.

Doan’ yo’ know, she am bawlhaided, But dat dey she we’ er wig; Dog mah cats ef yo’ kood tell it, Ef yo’ could I’d dance’d a jig; Twasn’t made fum hyah dat’s kinky, But fum dat call’d awbun hyah; Looks so poody slick, an’ wabey, Kine yo’ see de white fo’ks wah.

Had it done an’ roll’d in ribbon, On de pompydoro style; Had deez great big whut yo’ call ’em? Hyahpins yais yo’ right mah chile; At de sides she lef’ it bushy Fo’ to kibbah up her yeahs; Kose she seed de white fo’ks do it Fo’ de las’ free o’ fo’ yeahs.

Yais, she had on glasses, go ’way! Dem dat habs de gol’en rim An’ a chain wuz fas’en to ’em, Cumin’ down beneef her chin; An’ her bowkey, go’ way honey! It wahs flowahs o’ all kine, Oh, it look’d mos’ loud an’ spickyus, Wish’d de lawd it had bin mine.

Oddah seed her when she pass’d us, Thow’d her head clah to de cloud; Switch’d her se’f an’ kooden’ see us, Kaze she’s togg’d up mos’ to loud; Now an’ den shed’ gib us, honey, Whut yo’ call de cake wa’k gran’, An’ her big feet cut no figgah; Was’ she right? she beet de ban’.

When she’d pass sto’ windahs, honey, She’d size up her se’f an’ smile; Twis’ her-se’f an’ lif her trailah, Cose she tho’wt she’s poody, chile; Why, I know’d dat dah ol’ dahky When she haden’ braid to eat; When it cum to shoes an’ sockin’s, Dey was stranjahs to her feet.

Now she needn’t be o’ spreadin’ On befo’ me any ahs, Kaze de Lawd in heaben knows it, Dat I ’bout her doesn’t kyahs; She jes’ lately got a penshun, An’ it’s sortah swell’d her haid, It’s a wondah diden’ bus’ it, An’ de dahky isn’t daid.

Doan’ yo’ ’membah when she usetah Wah dat bumzeen yallah dress? Whah she’s gwine to git de nex’ one, Kep’ her allus on de guess; Whut I say a ’bout sum dahkies, Ef dey git a rag er to, ’Speshly dems po’ as Jobe’s tukehy, Dey’ll wa’k obah me an’ yo’.

I jes’ feed dem kine o’ dahkies, Wid er big long hanel spoon; Bet dey needen’ take dis sistah, Fo’ er hankshef haided coon; Kaze it’s bawn in all ah kin fo’ks, To be stylish an’ be proud, Nebbah habs dis lady, honey, To sech dahkies ebah bow’d.

THE GALLANT BLACKS OF SAN JUAN HILL.

Without a tremor or a pause, Enlisted for their country’s cause, ’Mid shout and song the gallant boys Charge up the hill of San Juan.

Like war-scarred veterans of old, Made with patriot ardor bold, Press they forward towards the goal, Not a soldier falters.

Blood and carnage everywhere, Detonations rend the air, Not for once do they despair, But press on to conquer.

See them charge with matchless splendor Heart to heart each one’s defender, All praise for the part they render, For them is the victory.

See the starry emblem high; This they’ll keep or all will die. Forward! Is their battle cry, See them still advancing.

Hell of fire ’tis their’s to greet, Comrades falling at their feet. Still for them to fight ’tis sweet, See them still advancing!

See the foe’s ranks try to rally, Thank God! They’ve made their last tally. Ne’er again will they forth sally, Lost their hopes forever!

Another charge! They reach the summit, And the prize at last they’ve won it, Fighting ev’ry inch they’ve done it, Vic’try on their banner.

Columbia, thou hast won the day, Tribute on the altar lay. Plaudits to those brave boys pay, They thy brave defenders.

Heaven swing thy gates a-wide, Forever in thy walls abide, Let those who so nobly died, Be this, their reward.

In the starry firmament, Thou bright gem of government, Brightest in the firmament, Still thy encircling light.

As a beacon and a sign, To oppressed men ever shine, Till on this terrestrial ball, God shall end the reign of all.