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36 Christy's plantation melodies.
She was good to the poor darkey—loving and mild— She'd joke with the old folks or play with a chi d— She'd frown at the wrong act, but smile at the right, And every one loved her, the black and the white; And often, when smoking her pipe at the door, The birds would fly in and hop over the floor; For they knew, though they saw the old cat on the
chair, That puss couldn't hurt them, for Dinah was there.
She'd sigh with the sorrowing—laugh with the gay— Tend on the sick-bed, or join in the play— The first at a funeral, wedding, or birth— The killer of trouble or maker of mirth. She spoke her mind freely—was plain as the day— But never hurt any by what she might say. If she once made a promise, it never was broke, And her friends would all swear to what Dinah had spoke.
One beautiful morning, at break of the day, I stopped at the old hut, when passing that way— I opened the door—what an object was there !— My dear old Aunt Dinah was dead in her chair! We buried her under an old willow tree, Where many a time she had froliced with me. Even Massa wept for her, though she was his slave; And Towser, her faithful dog, died on her grave.
Night Funeral of a Slave.
In the bright sunny South, at the close of the day,
To the mansion there came a grief-stricken slave— " The coffin is there, and the people all say,
That master must come before he goes to the grave." " It was my poor John," the good master replied;
"A servant more faithful there never could be, For all his life long, till the day that he died,
No friend could be truer than John was to me.