Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/73

Rh

Ur ol' Hyar lib in ur house on de hill, He hunner yurs ol' an' nebber wuz ill; He yurs dee so long an' he eyes so beeg, An' he laigs so spry dat he dawnce ur jeeg; He lib so long dat he know ebbry tings 'Bout de beas'ses dat walks an' de bu'ds dat sings— Dis Ol' Doc' Hyar, Whar lib up dar Een ur mighty fine house on ur mighty high hill.

He doctah fur all de beas'ses an' bu'ds— He put on he specs an' he use beeg wu'ds, He feel dee pu's' den he look mighty wise, He pull out he watch an' he shet bofe eyes; He grab up he hat an' grab up he cane. Den—"blam!" go de do'—he gone lak de train, Dis Ol' Doc' Hyar, Whar lib up dar Een ur mighty fine house on ur mighty high hill.

Mistah Ba'r fall sick—dee sont fur Doc' Hyar, "O, Doctah, come queeck, an' see Mr. B'ar; He mighty nigh daid des sho' ez you b'on!" "Too much ur young peeg, too much ur green co'n," Ez he put on he hat, said Ol' Doc' Hyar; "I'll tek 'long meh lawnce, an' lawnce Mistah B'ar," Said Ol' Doc' Hyar, Whar lib up dar Een ur mighty fine house on ur mighty high hill.