Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/230

178 Yes, I didn' 'spect to git here—but here I is!"

Now, gent'mens, make yo'selves to home, Dare's nothin' to fear—my ole 'ooman's gone— My stars; da weather's pow'ful warm— I wouldn' be s'prised ef we had a storm."

No, Brother Simmons, we kin safely say— 'Tain't gwine to be no storm to-day Kase here am facts dat's mighty plain An' any time you sees 'em you kin look fuh rain: Any time you hears da cheers an' tables crack An' da folks wid rheumatics—dare jints is on da rack—"

Lookout fuh rain, rain, rain.

When da ducks quack loud an' da peacocks cry, An' da far off hills seems to be right nigh. Prepare fuh rain, rain, rain!

When da ole cat on da hearth wid her velvet paws 'Gins to wipin' over her whiskered jaws, Sho' sign o' rain, rain, rain!

When da frog's done changed his yaller vest, An' in his brown suit he is dressed, Mo' rain, an' still mo' rain!