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NEGRO FOLK RHYMES |
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MY FIDDLE
If my ole fiddle wus jes in chune, She'd bring me a dollar ev'y Friday
night in June. Wen my ole riddle is fixed up right, She bring me a dollar in nearly ev'y
night. Wen my ole fiddle begin to sing, She make de whole plantation ring. She bring me in a dollar an' sometime
mo'. Hurrah fer my ole fiddle an' bow!
DIE IN THE PIG-PEN FIGHTING
Dat ole sow said to de barren "I'll tell you w'at let's do: Let's go an' git dat broad-axe And die in de pig-pen too."
"Die in de pig-pen fightin'! Yes, die, die in de wah! Die in de pig-pen fightin', Yes, die wid a bitin' jaw!"
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