Gleanings of quiet hours / Priscilla Jane Thompson [electronic text]

UNCLE IKE'S HOLIDAY.

"WELL UNCLE IKE! This beats me; I don't know what to say: Last night I took it for a joke, When of that odd project you spoke, To celebrate today."

"I didn't take you for the man, Kind as I've been to you, To leave me in this busy time, Tomatoes, spoiling on my vines, To loaf a whole day through."

I've corn now parching in the field; Potatoes yet to dig. Yet you can walk off in this way, And leave me in "a hole" all day, Nor do you give a "fig."

You colored folks, are cranks for sure; Here in this busy week, To stop a good job, just for fun. And sport around from sun to sun,—" "Stop right dah! Let me speak!"

"Dis day is 'Mancipation, De day when God, who reigns, Wid Lincum fah his instrument, De very jaws ob Sof did rent, To bust de slav'ry's chains.

"An' now, wid umble gratwatude, I's promised him fah one, To set aside one day each year, An' meet my people wid good cheer, An 'joice at whut He's done."

"You say, I'se stopped in busy times, I answer in reply, De 'high boss', dat I'm on today, You sot astride, dis very way, Jest back here, in July.

"Yo' June grass lay cut in de field, De wetter looked like rain, An' yet you sent me right back home, An' to yo' surrey hitched yo' roan, An' driv off jest de same."

"An' mind you, when I spoke to you, 'Bout wastein' sich a day, "Faw Jesus Christ I would not work, Doe tahment claimed me fah a shirk," Dem aw de words you say."

"I won't say dat, I'll wuk fah God, But, mind you dis is true, Mo' serious time will hab to come, An' mighty heavy, arg'ing done, Befo' I'd wuk fah you."

I s'pose you know whut brung me 'round, I want dat 'change', you know; I call it wrong to stingy be, Upon de day when we are free; Tank you sah; I must go."