Chapter 16

Blue are the veins in her lily-white hands, Blue are the veins in her brow; Thin is the line of her blue drawn lips, Who would be haughty now?

Pale is the face at the window-pane, Pale as the pearl on her breast, "Roderick, love, wilt come again? Fares he to east or west?"

The shepherd pipes to the shepherdess, The bird to his mate in the tree, And ever she sighs as she hears their song, "Nobody sings for me."

The scullery maids have swains enow Who lead them the way of love, But lonely and loveless their mistress sits At her window up above.

Loveless and lonely she waits and waits, The saddest in all the land; Ah, cruel and lasting is love-blind pride, My Lady of Castle Grand.

DRIZZLE

Hit 's been drizzlin' an' been sprinklin', Kin' o' techy all day long. I ain't wet enough fu' toddy, I 's too damp to raise a song, An' de case have set me t'inkin', Dat dey 's folk des lak de rain, Dat goes drizzlin' w'en dey's talkin', An' won't speak out flat an' plain.

Ain't you nevah set an' listened At a body 'splain his min'? W'en de t'oughts dey keep on drappin' Was n't big enough to fin'? Dem 's whut I call drizzlin' people, Othahs call 'em mealy mouf, But de fust name hits me bettah, Case dey nevah tech a drouf.

Dey kin talk from hyeah to yandah, An' f'om yandah hyeah ergain, An' dey don' mek no mo' 'pression, Den dis powd'ry kin' o' rain. En yo' min' is dry ez cindahs, Er a piece o' kindlin' wood, 'T ain't no use a-talkin' to 'em, Fu' dey drizzle ain't no good.

Gimme folks dat speak out nachul, Whut 'll say des whut dey mean, Whut don't set dey wo'ds so skimpy Dat you got to guess between. I want talk des' lak de showahs Whut kin wash de dust erway, Not dat sprinklin' convusation, Dat des drizzle all de day.

DE CRITTERS' DANCE

Ain't nobody nevah tol' you not a wo'd a-tall, 'Bout de time dat all de critters gin dey fancy ball? Some folks tell it in a sto'y, some folks sing de rhyme, 'Peahs to me you ought to hyeahed it, case hit 's ol' ez time.

Well, de critters all was p'osp'ous, now would be de chance Fu' to tease ol' Pa'son Hedgehog, givin' of a dance; Case, you know, de critters' preachah was de stric'est kin', An' he nevah made no 'lowance fu' de frisky min'.

So dey sont dey inbitations, Raccoon writ 'em all, "Dis hyeah note is to inbite you to de Fancy Ball; Come erlong an' bring yo' ladies, bring yo' chillun too, Put on all yo' bibs an' tuckahs, show whut you kin do."

W'en de night come, dey all gathahed in a place dey knowed, Fu' enough erway f'om people, nigh enough de road, All de critters had ersponded, Hop-Toad up to Baih, An' I 's hyeah to tell you, Pa'son Hedgehog too, was daih.

Well, dey talked an' made dey 'bejunce, des lak critters do, An' dey walked an' p'omenaded 'roun' an' thoo an' thoo; Jealous ol' Mis' Fox, she whispah, "See Mis' Wildcat daih, Ain't hit scan'lous, huh a-comin' wid huh shouldahs baih?"

Ol' man T'utle was n't honin' fu' no dancin' tricks, So he stayed by ol' Mis' Tu'tle, talkin' politics; Den de ban' hit 'mence a-playin' critters all to place, Fou' ercross an' fou' stan' sideways, smilin' face to face.

'Fessah Frog, he play de co'net, Cricket play de fife, Slews o' Grasshoppahs a-fiddlin' lak to save dey life; Mistah Crow, 'he call de figgers, settin' in a tree, Huh, uh! how dose critters sasshayed was a sight to see.

Mistah Possom swing Mis' Rabbit up an' down de flo', Ol' man Baih, he ain't so nimble, an' it mek him blow; Raccoon dancin' wid Mis' Squ'il squeeze huh little han', She say, "Oh, now ain't you awful, quit it, goodness lan'!"

Pa'son Hedgehog groanin' awful at his converts' shines, 'Dough he peepin' thoo his fingahs at dem movin' lines, 'Twell he cain't set still no longah w'en de fiddles sing, Up he jump, an' bless you, honey, cut de pigeon-wing.

Well, de critters lak to fainted jes' wid dey su'prise. Sistah Fox, she vowed she was n't gwine to b'lieve huh eyes; But dey could n't be no 'sputin' 'bout it any mo': Pa'son Hedgehog was a-cape'in' all erroun' de flo.'

Den dey all jes' capahed scan'lous case dey did n't doubt, Dat dey still could go to meetin'; who could tu'n 'em out? So wid dancin' an' uligion, dey was in de fol', Fu' a-dancin' wid de Pa'son couldn't hu't de soul.

WHEN DEY 'LISTED COLORED SOLDIERS

Dey was talkin' in de cabin, dey was talkin' in de hall; But I listened kin' o' keerless, not a-t'inkin' 'bout it all; An' on Sunday, too, I noticed, dey was whisp'rin' mighty much, Stan'in' all erroun' de roadside w'en dey let us out o' chu'ch. But I did n't t'ink erbout it 'twell de middle of de week, An' my 'Lias come to see me, an' somehow he could n't speak. Den I seed all in a minute whut he 'd come to see me for;-- Dey had 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias gwine to wah.

Oh, I hugged him, an' I kissed him, an' I baiged him not to go; But he tol' me dat his conscience, hit was callin' to him so, An' he could n't baih to lingah w'en he had a chanst to fight For de freedom dey had gin him an' de glory of de right. So he kissed me, an' he lef me, w'en I 'd p'omised to be true; An' dey put a knapsack on him, an' a coat all colo'ed blue. So I gin him pap's ol' Bible f'om de bottom of de draw',-- W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.

But I t'ought of all de weary miles dat he would have to tramp, An' I could n't be contented w'en dey tuk him to de camp. W'y my hea't nigh broke wid grievin' 'twell I seed him on de street; Den I felt lak I could go an' th'ow my body at his feet. For his buttons was a-shinin', an' his face was shinin', too, An' he looked so strong an' mighty in his coat o' sojer blue, Dat I hollahed, "Step up, manny," dough my th'oat was so' an' raw,-- W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.

Ol' Mis' cried w'en mastah lef huh, young Miss mou'ned huh brothah Ned, An' I did n't know dey feelin's is de ve'y wo'ds dey said W'en I tol' 'em I was so'y. Dey had done gin up dey all; But dey only seemed mo' proudah dat dey men had hyeahed de call. Bofe my mastahs went in gray suits, an' I loved de Yankee blue, But I t'ought dat I could sorrer for de losin' of 'em too; But I could n't, for I did n't know de ha'f o' whut I saw, 'Twell dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.

Mastah Jack come home all sickly; he was broke for life, dey said; An' dey lef my po' young mastah some'r's on de roadside,--dead. W'en de women cried an' mou'ned 'em, I could feel it thoo an' thoo, For I had a loved un fightin' in de way o' dangah, too. Den dey tol' me dey had laid him some'r's way down souf to res', Wid de flag dat he had fit for shinin' daih acrost his breas'. Well, I cried, but den I reckon dat 's whut Gawd had called him for, W'en dey 'listed colo'ed sojers an' my 'Lias went to wah.

LINCOLN

Hurt was the nation with a mighty wound, And all her ways were filled with clam'rous sound. Wailed loud the South with unremitting grief, And wept the North that could not find relief. Then madness joined its harshest tone to strife: A minor note swelled in the song of life. 'Till, stirring with the love that filled his breast, But still, unflinching at the right's behest, Grave Lincoln came, strong handed, from afar, The mighty Homer of the lyre of war. 'T was he who bade the raging tempest cease, Wrenched from his harp the harmony of peace, Muted the strings, that made the discord,--Wrong, And gave his spirit up in thund'rous song. Oh mighty Master of the mighty lyre, Earth heard and trembled at thy strains of fire: Earth learned of thee what Heav'n already knew, And wrote thee down among her treasured few.

ENCOURAGEMENT

Who dat knockin' at de do'? Why, Ike Johnson,--yes, fu' sho! Come in, Ike. I 's mighty glad You come down. I t'ought you 's mad At me 'bout de othah night, An' was stayin' 'way fu' spite. Say, now, was you mad fu' true Wen I kin' o' laughed at you? Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f.

'T ain't no use a-lookin' sad, An' a-mekin' out you 's mad; Ef you 's gwine to be so glum, Wondah why you evah come. I don't lak nobidy 'roun' Dat jes' shet dey mouf an' frown,-- Oh, now, man, don't act a dunce! Cain't you talk? I tol' you once, Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f.

Wha 'd you come hyeah fu' to-night? Body 'd t'ink yo' haid ain't right. I 's done all dat I kin do,-- Dressed perticler, jes' fu' you; Reckon I 'd 'a' bettah wo' My ol' ragged calico. Aftah all de pains I 's took, Cain't you tell me how I look? Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f.

Bless my soul! I 'mos' fu'got Tellin' you 'bout Tildy Scott. Don't you know, come Thu'sday night, She gwine ma'y Lucius White? Miss Lize say I allus wuh Heap sight laklier 'n huh; An' she 'll git me somep'n new, Ef I wants to ma'y too. Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f.

I could ma'y in a week, Ef de man I wants 'ud speak. Tildy's presents 'll be fine, But dey would n't ekal mine. Him whut gits me fu' a wife 'Ll be proud, you bet yo' life. I 's had offers; some ain't quit; But I has n't ma'ied yit! Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f.

Ike, I loves you,--yes, I does; You 's my choice, and allus was. Laffin' at you ain't no harm.-- Go 'way, dahky, whah 's yo' arm? Hug me closer--dah, dat 's right! Was n't you a awful sight, Havin' me to baig you so? Now ax whut you want to know,-- Speak up, Ike, an' 'spress yo'se'f!

THE BOOGAH MAN

W'en de evenin' shadders Come a-glidin' down, Fallin' black an' heavy Ovah hill an' town, Ef you listen keerful, Keerful ez you kin, So 's you boun' to notice Des a drappin' pin; Den you 'll hyeah a funny Soun' ercross de lan'; Lay low; dat's de callin' Of de Boogah Man!

_Woo-oo woo-oo!_ _Hyeah him ez he go erlong de way;_ _Woo-oo, woo-oo!_ _Don' you wish de night 'ud t'un to day?_ _Woo-oo, woo-oo!_ _Hide yo' little peepers 'hind yo' han;_ _Woo-oo, woo-oo!_ _Callin' of de Boogah Man._

W'en de win 's a-shiverin' Thoo de gloomy lane, An' dey comes de patterin' Of de evenin' rain, W'en de owl's a-hootin', Out daih in de wood, Don' you wish, my honey, Dat you had been good? 'T ain't no use to try to Snuggle up to Dan; Bless you, dat's de callin' Of de Boogah Man!

Ef you loves yo' mammy, An' you min's yo' pap, Ef you nevah wriggles Outen Sukey's lap; Ef you says yo' "Lay me" Evah single night 'Fo' dey tucks de kivers An' puts out de light, Den de rain kin pattah Win' blow lak a fan, But you need n' bothah 'Bout de Boogah Man!

THE WRAITH

Ah me, it is cold and chill And the fire sobs low in the grate, While the wind rides by on the hill, And the logs crack sharp with hate.

And she, she is cold and sad As ever the sinful are, But deep in my heart I am glad For my wound and the coming scar.

Oh, ever the wind rides by And ever the raindrops grieve; But a voice like a woman's sigh Says, "Do you believe, believe?"

Ah, you were warm and sweet, Sweet as the May days be; Down did I fall at your feet, Why did you hearken to me?

Oh, the logs they crack and whine, And the water drops from the eaves; But it is not rain but brine Where my dead darling grieves.

And a wraith sits by my side, A spectre grim and dark; Are you gazing here open-eyed Out to the lifeless dark?

But ever the wind rides on, And we sit close within; Out of the face of the dawn, I and my darling,--sin.

SILENCE

'T is better to sit here beside the sea, Here on the spray-kissed beach, In silence, that between such friends as we Is full of deepest speech.

WHIP-POOR-WILL AND KATY-DID

Slow de night 's a-fallin', An' I hyeah de callin, Out erpon de lonesome hill; Soun' is moughty dreary, Solemn-lak an' skeery, Sayin' fu' to "whip po' Will."

Now hit 's moughty tryin', Fu' to hyeah dis cryin', 'Deed hit 's mo' den I kin stan'; Sho' wid all our slippin', Dey 's enough of whippin' 'Dout a bird a'visin' any man.

In de noons o' summah Dey 's anothah hummah Sings anothah song instid; An' his th'oat 's a-swellin' Wid de joy o' tellin', But he says dat "Katy did."

Now I feels onsuhtain; Won't you raise de cu'tain Ovah all de ti'ngs dat 's hid? W'y dat feathahed p'isen Goes erbout a-visin' Whippin' Will w'en Katy did?

'LONG TO'DS NIGHT

Daih 's a moughty soothin' feelin' Hits a dahky man, 'Long to'ds night. W'en de row is mos' nigh ended, Den he stops to fan, 'Long to'ds night. De blue smoke f'om his cabin is a-callin' to him "Come;" He smell de bacon cookin', an' he hyeah de fiah hum; An' he 'mence to sing, 'dough wo'kin' putty nigh done made him dumb, 'Long to'ds night.

Wid his hoe erpon his shouldah Den he goes erlong, 'Long to'ds night. An' he keepin' time a-steppin' Wid a little song, 'Long to'ds night. De restin'-time 's a-comin', an' de time to drink an' eat; A baby's toddlin' to'ds him on hits little dusty feet, An' a-goin' to'ds his cabin, an' his suppah 's moughty sweet, 'Long to'ds night.

Daih his Ca'line min' de kettle, Rufus min' de chile, 'Long to'ds night; An' de sweat roll down his forred, Mixin' wid his smile, 'Long to'ds night. He toss his piccaninny, an' he hum a little chune; De wokin' all is ovah, an' de suppah comin' soon; De wo'kin' time 's Decembah, but de restin' time is June, 'Long to'ds night.

Dey 's a kin' o' doleful feelin', Hits a tendah place, 'Long to'ds night; Dey 's a moughty glory in him Shinin' thoo his face, Long to'ds night. De cabin 's lak de big house, an' de fiah's lak de sun; His wife look moughty lakly, an' de chile de puttiest one; W'y, hit 's blessid, jes' a-livin' w'en a body's wo'k is done. 'Long to'ds night.

A GRIEVANCE

Wen de snow 's a-fallin' An' de win' is col'. Mammy 'mence a-callin', Den she 'mence to scol', "Lucius Lishy Brackett, Don't you go out do's, Button up yo' jacket, Les'n you 'll git froze."

I sit at de windah Lookin' at de groun', Nuffin nigh to hindah, Mammy ain' erroun'; Wish 't she would n' mek me Set down in dis chaih; Pshaw, it would n't tek me Long to git some aih.

So I jump down nimble Ez a boy kin be, Dough I 's all a-trimble Feahed some one 'll see; Bet in a half a minute I fly out de do' An' I 's knee-deep in it, Dat dah blessed snow.

Den I hyeah a pattah Come acrost de flo'. Den dey comes a clattah At de cabin do'; An' my mammy holler Spoilin' all my joy, "Come in f'om dat waller, Don't I see you, boy?"

Wen de snow 's a-sievin' Down ez sof ez meal, Whut 's de use o' livin' 'Cept you got de feel Of de stuff dat's fallin' 'Roun' an' white an' damp, 'Dout some one a-callin', "Come in hyeah, you scamp!"

DINAH KNEADING DOUGH

I have seen full many a sight Born of day or drawn by night: Sunlight on a silver stream, Golden lilies all a-dream, Lofty mountains, bold and proud, Veiled beneath the lacelike cloud; But no lovely sight I know Equals Dinah kneading dough.

Brown arms buried elbow-deep Their domestic rhythm keep, As with steady sweep they go Through the gently yielding dough. Maids may vaunt their finer charms-- Naught to me like Dinah's arms; Girls may draw, or paint, or sew-- I love Dinah kneading dough.

Eyes of jet and teeth of pearl, Hair, some say, too tight a-curl; But the dainty maid I deem Very near perfection's dream. Swift she works, and only flings Me a glance--the least of things. And I wonder, does she know That my heart is in the dough?

TO A CAPTIOUS CRITIC

Dear critic, who my lightness so deplores, Would I might study to be prince of bores, Right wisely would I rule that dull estate-- But, sir, I may not, till you abdicate.

DAT OL' MARE O' MINE

Want to trade me, do you, mistah? Oh, well, now, I reckon not, W'y you could n't buy my Sukey fu' a thousan' on de spot. Dat ol' mare o' mine? Yes, huh coat ah long an' shaggy, an' she ain't no shakes to see; Dat's a ring-bone, yes, you right, suh, an' she got a on'ry knee, But dey ain't no use in talkin', she de only hoss fu' me, Dat ol' mare o' mine.

Co'se, I knows dat Suke 's contra'y, an' she moughty ap' to vex; But you got to mek erlowance fu' de nature of huh sex; Dat ol' mare o' mine. Ef you pull her on de lef han'; she plum 'termined to go right, A cannon could n't skeer huh, but she boun' to tek a fright At a piece o' common paper, or anyt'ing whut's white, Dat ol' mare o' mine.

Wen my eyes commence to fail me, dough, I trus'es to huh sight, An' she 'll tote me safe an' hones' on de ve'y da'kes' night, Dat ol' mare o' mine. Ef I whup huh, she jes' switch huh tail, an' settle to a walk, Ef I whup huh mo', she shek huh haid, an' lak ez not, she balk. But huh sense ain't no ways lackin', she do evah t'ing but talk, Dat ol' mare o' mine.

But she gentle ez a lady w'en she know huh beau kin see. An' she sholy got mo' gumption any day den you or me, Dat ol' mare o' mine. She's a leetle slow a-goin,' an' she moughty ha'd to sta't, But we 's gittin' ol' togathah, an' she 's closah to my hea't, An' I does n't reckon, mistah, dat she 'd sca'cely keer to pa't; Dat ol' mare o' mine.

W'y I knows de time dat cidah 's kin' o' muddled up my haid, Ef it had n't been fu' Sukey hyeah, I reckon I 'd been daid; Dat ol' mare o' mine. But she got me in de middle o' de road an' tuk me home, An' she would n't let me wandah, ner she would n't let me roam, Dat's de kin' o' hoss to tie to w'en you 's seed de cidah's foam, Dat ol' mare o' mine.

You kin talk erbout yo' heaven, you kin talk erbout yo' hell, Dey is people, dey is hosses, den dey's cattle, den dey's--well-- Dat ol' mare o' mine; She de beatenes' t'ing dat evah struck de medders o' de town, An' aldough huh haid ain't fittin' fu' to waih no golden crown, D' ain't a blessed way fu' Petah fu' to tu'n my Sukey down, Dat ol' mare o' mine.

IN THE MORNING

'Lias! 'Lias! Bless de Lawd! Don' you know de day's erbroad? Ef you don' git up, you scamp, Dey 'll be trouble in dis camp. T'ink I gwine to let you sleep W'ile I meks yo' boa'd an' keep? Dat's a putty howdy-do-- Don' you hyeah me, 'Lias--you?

Bet ef I come crost dis flo' You won' fin' no time to sno'. Daylight all a-shinin' in Wile you sleep--w'y hit's a sin! Ain't de can'le-light enough To bu'n out widout a snuff, But you go de mo'nin' thoo Bu'nin' up de daylight too?

'Lias, don' you hyeah me call? No use tu'nin' to'ds de wall; I kin hyeah dat mattuss squeak; Don' you hyeah me w'en I speak? Dis hyeah clock done struck off six-- Ca'line, bring me dem ah sticks! Oh, you down, suh; huh, you down-- Look hyeah, don' you daih to frown.

Ma'ch yo'se'f an' wash yo' face, Don' you splattah all de place; I got somep'n else to do, 'Sides jes' cleanin' aftah you. Tek dat comb ah' fix yo' haid-- Looks jes' lak a feddah baid. Look hyeah, boy, I let you see You sha' n't roll yo' eyes at me.

Come hyeah; bring me dat ah strap! Boy, I'll whup you 'twell you drap; You done felt yo'se'f too strong, An' you sholy got me wrong. Set down at dat table thaih; Jes' you whimpah ef you daih! Evah mo'nin' on dis place, Seem lak I mus' lose my grace.

Fol' yo' han's an' bow yo' haid-- Wait ontwell de blessin' 's said; "Lawd, have mussy on ouah souls--" (Don' you daih to tech dem rolls--) "Bless de food we gwine to eat--" (You set still-I _see_ yo' feet; You jes' try dat trick agin!) "Gin us peace an' joy. Amen!"

THE POET

He sang of life, serenely sweet, With, now and then, a deeper note. From some high peak, nigh yet remote, He voiced the world's absorbing beat.

He sang of love when earth was young, And Love, itself, was in his lays. But ah, the world, it turned to praise A jingle in a broken tongue.

A FLORIDA NIGHT

Win' a-blowin' gentle so de san' lay low, San' a little heavy f'om de rain, All de pa'ms a-wavin' an' a-weavin' slow, Sighin' lak a sinnah-soul in pain. Alligator grinnin' by de ol' lagoon, Mockin'-bird a-singin' to be big full moon. 'Skeeter go a-skimmin' to his fightin' chune (Lizy Ann's a-waitin' in de lane!).

Moccasin a-sleepin' in de cyprus swamp; Need n't wake de gent'man, not fu' me. Mule, you need n't wake him w'en you switch an' stomp, Fightin' off a 'skeeter er a flea. Florida is lovely, she's de fines' lan' Evah seed de sunlight f'om de Mastah's han', 'Ceptin' fu' de varmints an' huh fleas an' san' An' de nights w'en Lizy Ann ain' free.

Moon 's a-kinder shaddered on de melon patch; No one ain't a-watchin' ez I go. Climbin' of de fence so 's not to click de latch Meks my gittin' in a little slow. Watermelon smilin' as it say, "I' s free;" Alligator boomin', but I let him be, Florida, oh, Florida 's de lan' fu' me-- (Lizy Ann a-singin' sweet an' low).

DIFFERENCES

My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell, My neighbor must look down on me, Must I look up?--ah, well, My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell.

My neighbor reads, and prays, And I--I laugh, God wot, And sing like a bird when the grass is green In my small garden plot; But ah, he reads and prays, And I--I laugh, God wot.

His face is a book of woe, And mine is a song of glee; A slave he is to the great "They say," But I--I am bold and free; No wonder he smacks of woe, And I have the tang of glee.

My neighbor thinks me a fool, "The same to yourself," say I; "Why take your books and take your prayers, Give me the open sky;" My neighbor thinks me a fool, "The same to yourself," say I.

LONG AGO

De ol' time's gone, de new time's hyeah Wid all hits fuss an' feddahs; I done fu'got de joy an' cheah We knowed all kin's o' weddahs, I done fu'got each ol'-time hymn We ust to sing in meetin'; I 's leahned de prah's, so neat an' trim, De preachah keeps us 'peatin'.

Hang a vine by de chimney side, An' one by de cabin do'; An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, De day of long ergo.

My youf, hit's gone, yes, long ergo, An' yit I ain't a-moanin'; Hit 's fu' somet'ings I ust to know I set to-night a-honin'. De pallet on de ol' plank flo', De rain bar'l und' de eaves, De live oak 'fo' de cabin do', Whaih de night dove comes an' grieves.

Hang a vine by de chimney side, An' one by de cabin do'; An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, De day of long ergo.

I 'd lak a few ol' frien's to-night To come an' set wid me; An' let me feel dat ol' delight I ust to in dey glee. But hyeah we is, my pipe an' me, Wid no one else erbout; We bofe is choked ez choked kin be, An' bofe 'll soon go out.

Hang a vine by de chimney side, An' one by de cabin do'; An' sing a song fu' de day dat died, De day of long ergo.

A PLANTATION MELODY

De trees is bendin' in de sto'm, De rain done hid de mountain's fo'm, I 's 'lone an' in distress. But listen, dah 's a voice I hyeah, A-sayin' to me, loud an' cleah, "Lay low in de wildaness."

De lightnin' flash, de bough sway low, My po' sick hea't is trimblin' so, It hu'ts my very breas'. But him dat give de lightnin' powah Jes' bids me in de tryin' howah "Lay low in de wildaness."