The Visitor
Little lady at de do’,W’y you stan’ dey knockin’?Nevah seen you ac’ befo’In er way so shockin’.Don’ you know de sin it isFu’ to git my temper rizWen I ‘s got de rheumatizAn’ my jints is lockin’?
No, ol’ Miss ain’t sont you down,Don’ you tell no story;I been seed you hangin’ ‘roun’Dis hyeah te’itory.You des come fu’ me to tellYou a tale, an’ I ain’—well—Look hyeah, what is dat I smell?Steamin’ victuals? Glory!
Come in, Missy, how you do?Come up by de fiah,I was jokin’, chile, wid you;Bring dat basket nighah.Huh uh, ain’t dat lak ol’ Miss,Sen’in’ me a feas’ lak dis?Rheumatiz cain’t stop my bliss,Case I’s feelin’ spryah.
Chicken meat an’ gravy, too,Hot an’ still a-heatin’;Good ol’ sweet pertater stew;Missy b’lieves in treatin’.Des set down, you blessed chile,Daddy got to t’ink a while,Den a story mek you smileWen he git thoo eatin’.