make a liddle hole to put ole Satan in.

Did you ever see de Devil, wid his iron handled shovel,
A scrapin' up de san' in his ole tin pan?
He cuts up mighty funny, he steals all y[=o]' money,
He blinds you wid his san'. He's tryin' to git you, man!

JOHNNY BIGFOOT

Johnny, Johnny Bigfoot!
Want a pair o' shoes?
Go kick two cows out'n deir skins.
Run Brudder, tell de news!

THE THRIFTY SLAVE

Jes wuk all day,
Den go huntin' in de wood.
Ef you cain't ketch nothin',
Den you hain't no good.
Don't look at Mosser's chickens,
Caze dey're roostin' high.
Big pig, liddle pig, root hog or die!

WILD NEGRO BILL

I'se wild Nigger Bill
Frum Redpepper Hill.
I never did wo'k, an' I never will.

I'se done killed de Boss.
I'se knocked down de hoss.
I eats up raw goose widout apple sauce!

I'se Run-a-way Bill,
I knows dey mought kill;
But ole Mosser hain't cotch me, an' he never will!

YOU LOVE YOUR GIRL

You loves y[=o]' gal?
Well, I loves mine.
Y[=o]' gal hain't common?
Well, my gal's fine.

I loves my gal,
She hain't no goose--
Blacker 'an blackberries,
Sweeter 'an juice.

FRIGHTENED AWAY FROM A CHICKEN-ROOST

I went down to de hen house on my knees,
An' I thought I heared dat chicken sneeze.
You'd oughter seed dis Nigger a-gittin' 'way frum dere,
But 'twusn't nothin' but a rooster sayin' his prayer.
How I wish dat rooster's prayer would en',
Den perhaps I mought eat dat ole gray hen.

BEDBUG

De June-bug's got de golden wing,
De Lightning-bug de flame;
De Bedbug's got no wing at all,
But he gits dar jes de same.

De Punkin-bug's got a punkin smell,
De Squash-bug smells de wust;
But de puffume of dat ole Bedbug,
It's enough to make you bust.

Wen dat Bedbug come down to my house,
I wants my walkin' cane.
Go git a pot an' scald 'im hot!
Good-by, Miss Lize Jane!

HOW TO GET TO GLORY LAND

If you wants to git to Glory Land,
I'll tell you what to do:
Jes grease y[=o]' heels wid mutton sue,
W'en de Devil's atter you.
Jes grease y[=o]' heel an' grease y[=o]' han',
An' slip 'way--over into Glory Lan'.

DESTITUTE FORMER SLAVE OWNERS

Missus an' Mosser a-walkin' de street,
Deir han's in deir pockets an' nothin' to eat.
She'd better be home a-wash