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68 Christy's plantation melodies.
ments ob de present time, de darkies, from whom dem coming" periods took their names, was, as your illiterated mental compa cities will clearly obliterate de origin, and confbunders ob dat perceptible and distinctly invisible human greatness, which—to use a well-known pane-legoloram — is as clear and transparent to de opake vision, as a pellucid thousand ob de werry thickest kind
ob hard-baked bricks------
if Pompey. Dat's berry good—fust-rate !
Julius. Yes; I like dem.bricks; dey hits me right in de eye, and I sees dearly through dat portion ob de argument—go on, General Brown.
Brown. Brudder sogers, I am-------
Julius. Dat's fust-rate—dat's it, hurrah !
Brown. What do you applause for dere ? Jes wait till I git t'rough !
Pompey. Hurry up de cakes !
Julius. Go ahead; General!
Brown. Brudder sogers, dere am no 'casion lor me to consummate your misspent time, by calling on you for your imbecile attention !
Julius. Dat's a fac*!
Brown. Yes, it am—as de great poet so sublimely and ridiculously expresses it—
Brebity am de sole ob wit,
And tedioushess am de ole Acef-taps
An' busted upper-ledders—
derefore, I will be brief.
Julius. Go on, I'se done !
Brown. Has you—den jes close dat coal-mine wat's excavated in your head, dat you call a mouf, till I'm done, too!
Julius. Go on, General, I'se satisfied wid your appology.
Brown. Fellow-sogers—let me compress upon your detrimental incapacities, de justly celebrated speech ob Captain Julicus Caesar, wot he made to Ensighn-Gene-/al Napoleon Bonaparte, when be succombed to, and vanquished Pompey de Great at de immemorial Battle ob de Nile—which, you know, gem'en and scholars. was fought among dem wonders ob de vegetable world |
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