Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/94

42 But I forgib my in'miz, my heart is free frum hate, When my bread is filled wid cracklins an' dar's chidlins on my plate.

'Dough 'possum meat is glo'yus wid 'taters in de pan, But put 'longside pork sassage it takes a backward stan'; Ub all yer fancy eatin's, jes gib to me fur mine Sum souse or pork or chidlins, sum sphar-rib, or de chine.