[Clg-devel] s ain

[Bammon B. <cu...@sd...>]

' down, swing him all aroun', Swing Johnny up an' down, swing him all
aroun', Oh, swing Johnny up an' down, swing him all
aroun' Fa' you well, my dahlin'." Had to
laff at ole man Johnson, he 's a caution

now, you bet-- Hittin' clost onto a hunderd, but he 's spry
an' nimble yet; He 'lowed how a-so't o' gigglin', "I ain't ole, I 'll
let you see, D'ain't no use in gittin' feeble, now
you youngstahs jes' watch me,"

An' he grabbed ole Aunt Marier--weighs th'ee hunderd mo' er less, An' he
spun huh 'roun' de cabin swingin' Johnny lak de res'. Evahbody laffed
an' hollahed: "Go it! Swing huh, Uncle Jim!" An' he
swung huh too, I reckon, lak a youngstah, who but him. Dat was bettah 'n
young Scott Thomas,
tryin' to be so awful smaht. You know when dey gits to singin' an' dey
comes to dat ere paht: "In some lady's new brick house, In some lady's
gyahden. Ef you don't let me out, I will jump out, So fa' you well, my
dahlin'." Den dey 's got a circle 'roun' you, an' you's got to break de
line; Well, dat dahky was so anxious,

lak to bust hisse'f a-tryin'; Kep' on blund'rin' 'roun' an' foolin'
'twell he giv' one gread big jump, Broke de line, an lit head-fo'most in
de fiah-place right plump; Hit 'ad fiah in it, mind you; well, I thought
my soul I 'd bust, Tried my best to keep

f'om laffin', but hit seemed like die I must! Y' ought to seen dat man
a-scramblin' f'om de

ashes an' de grime. Did

it bu'n him! Sich a question,
why he did n't give it time; Th'ow'd dem ashes and dem

cindahs evah
which-a-way I

guess, An'

you nevah did, I reckon, clap yo' eyes on sich a mess; Fu' he sholy made

a picter an' a funny one to boot, Wif his clothes all full
o' ashes an' his face all full o' soot. Well, hit laked to stopped de
pahty, an' I reckon lak ez not Dat it would ef Tom's

wife, Mandy, had n't happened on de spot, To invite us out to
suppah--well, we scrambled to de table, An' I 'd lak to tell you 'bout
it--what we had--but I ain't able, Mention jes' a few things, dough I
know

I had n't
orter, Fu' I know 't will staht a hank'rin' an' yo' mouf 'll 'mence to
worter. We had wheat brea