Whut time‘ d dat clock strike? Nine? No — eight; I did n't think hit was so late. Aer chew! I must‘ a’ got a cough,
I raally b'lieve I did doze off — Hit's mighty soothin’ to de tiah, A-dozin’ dis way by de fiah; Oo oom — hit feels so good to stretch
I sutny is one weary wretch! Look hyeah, dat boy done gone to sleep! He des ai n't wo'th his boa'd an’ keep; I des do n't b'lieve he'd bat his eyes
If Gab'el called him fo'm de skies! But sleepin's good dey ai n't no doubt — Dis pipe o’ mine is done gone out. Do n't bu'n a minute, bless my soul,
Des please to han’ me dat ah coal. You‘ Lias git up now, my son, Seems lak my nap is des begun; You sutny mus’ ma'k down de day
Wen I treats comp'ny dis away! W'y, Brother Jones, dat drowse come on, An’ laws! I dremp dat you was gone! You‘ Lias, whaih yo’ mannahs, suh,
To hyeah me call an’ nevah stuh! To-morrer mo'nin’ w'en I call Dat boy'll be sleepin’ to beat all, Do n't mek no diffunce how I roah,
He'll des lay up an’ sno’ and sno’. Now boy, you done hyeahed whut I said, You bettah tek yo'se' f yo baid, Case ef you gits me good an’ wrong
I'll mek dat sno’ a diffunt song. Dis wood fiah is invitin’ dho’, Hit seems to wa'm de ve'y flo’ — An’ nuffin’ ai n't a whit ez sweet,
Ez settin’ toastin’ of yo’ feet. Hit mek you drowsy, too, but La! Hyeah,‘ Lias, do n't you hyeah yo’ ma? Ef I gits sta'ted f'om dis cheah
I’ lay, you scamp, I'll mek you heah! To-morrer mo'nin’ I kin bawl Twell all de neighbohs hyeah me call; An’ you'll be snoozin’ des ez deep
Ez if de day was made fu’ sleep; Hit's funny when you got a cough Somehow yo’ voice seems too fu’ off — Ca n't wake dat boy fu’ all I say,
I reckon he'll sleep daih twell day!
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