Page:Hallowe'en festivities (1903).djvu/187

Rh De gray owl sing f'um de cypress tree, "Who-who-is you-oo?" En I say, "Good Lawd, ef yo' look, yo'll see Hit ain't nobody but des' po' me, En I lak to stay twell ma' time is free; Oh, wait, good Lawd, twell to-morrer."

HEY sat on the limb of a crabapple-tree, A Bogy, a Spook and a little Banshee. The wind blew north and the wind blew free— Oh, 'twas a* merry meeting The Bogy had eyes as big as a plate, The Spook had feet number twenty-eight, While the Banshee had covered her horrible pate With the ghastliest kind of sheeting.

Said the Bogy at last with a dismal wail, "To frighten folks now I always fail; They laugh instead of becoming pale When they at midnight meet me. Our business is falling in disrepute, It's neither productive of fame nor loot; Back to the shades I think I'll scoot— There the ghosts will be glad to greet me."

"Not far from here," croaked the grim Banshee "Lives a lonely man of low degree; Pale and sad and sickly he, And 'twould be funny, very, To frighten him into a fearful fit, Just to liven us up a bit Before we take our final flit Over the spectral ferry.