IF I'SE YO' LADY.
Copyright, 1898. by Philip Kussel.
Dar's a dead swell colored lady,
An' her name is Samnasady;
She's the swellest of de black four hundred's best.
Why, de coons all try to court her,
But dar's one boy dat has taught her
Dat he is hers an' she is his for fair;
A little better lookin'
When she's had her picture tookin';
When she walks aroun' she overshines de rest;
Ma heart almost goes wild
When she calls me her deah child,
An' to me she does say:
It I'se yo' lady, yo' little baby,
Come, tell me whose are yo' (oh, ma baby!),
I loves you truly, yes, I do surely,
Oh, tell me whose are you
Spoken.-Tell me, honey.
One night a big "stiff nigger"
Thought because he was some bigger
He could clean me off de floor an' win my babe.
Well, he done got de cleanin',
With entirely different meanin';
When I got through his face was mos' decayed.
An' when de war was ended.
An1 de good cause defended.
Ma babe she puts her hands aroun' my head;
Laid her head right on ma breast,
Don't never minrde rest.
An' den to me she said:- Cho.