Ponchus Pilut

Ponchus Pilut ust to be
Ist a Slave, an' now he's free.
Slaves wuz on'y ist before
The War wuz--an' ain't no more.

He works on our place fer us,--
An' comes here--sometimes he does.
He shocks corn an' shucks it.--An'
He makes hominy "by han'!"--

Wunst he bringed us some, one trip,
Tied up in a piller-slip:
Pa says, when Ma cooked it, "MY!
This-here's gooder'n you buy!"

Ponchus pats fer me an' sings;
An' he says funny things!
Ponchus calls a dish a "deesh"--
Yes, an' he calls fishes "feesh"!

When Ma want him eat wiv us
He says, "'Skuse me--'deed you mus'!--
Ponchus know' good manners, Miss.--
He ain' eat wher' White-folks is!"

'Lindy takes his dinner out
Wher' he's workin'--roun' about.--
Wunst he et his dinner spread
In our ole wheelborry-bed.

Ponchus Pilut says "'at's not
His right name,--an' done fergot
What his sho'-'nuff name is now--
An' don' matter none nohow!"

Yes, an' Ponchus he'ps Pa, too,
When our butcherin's to do,
An' scalds hogs--an' says, "Take care
'Bout it, er you'll set the hair!"

Yes, an' out in our back-yard
He he'ps 'Lindy rendur lard;
An', wite in the fire there, he
Roast' a pigtail wunst fer me.--

An' ist nen th'ole tavurn-bell
Rung, down-town, an' he says, "Well!--
Hear dat! Lan' o' Caanan, Son,
Ain't dat bell say 'Pigtail done!'

--'Pigtail done!
Go call Son!--
Tell dat
Chile dat
Pigtail done!'"