Who dat knockin’ at de do’? Why, Ike Johnson,— yes, fu’ sho! Come in, Ike. I‘ s mighty glad You come down. I t'ought you‘ s mad
At me‘ bout de othah night, An’ was stayin’‘ way fu’ spite. Say, now, was you mad fu’ true Wen I kin’ o’ laughed at you?
Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f. ‘ T ai n't no use a-lookin’ sad, An’ a-mekin’ out you‘ s mad; Ef you‘ s gwine to be so glum,
Wondah why you evah come. I do n't lak nobidy‘ roun’ Dat jes’ shet dey mouf an’ frown,— Oh, now, man, do n't act a dunce!
Cai n't you talk? I tol’ you once, Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f. Wha‘ d you come hyeah fu’ to-night? Body‘ d t'ink yo’ haid ai n't right.
I‘ s done all dat I kin do,— Dressed perticler, jes’ fu’ you; Reckon I‘ d‘ a’ bettah wo’ My ol’ ragged calico.
Aftah all de pains I‘ s took, Cai n't you tell me how I look? Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f. Bless my soul! I‘ mos’ fu'got
Tellin’ you‘ bout Tildy Scott. Do n't you know, come Thu'sday night, She gwine ma'y Lucius White? Miss Lize say I allus wuh
Heap sight laklier‘ n huh; An’ she‘ ll git me somep'n new, Ef I wants to ma'y too. Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f.
I could ma'y in a week, Ef de man I wants‘ ud speak. Tildy's presents‘ ll be fine, But dey would n't ekal mine.
Him whut gits me fu’ a wife ‘ Ll be proud, you bet yo’ life. I‘ s had offers; some ai n't quit; But I has n't ma'ied yit!
Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f. Ike, I loves you,— yes, I does; You‘ s my choice, and allus was. Laffin’ at you ai n't no harm.—
Go‘ way, dahky, whah‘ s yo’ arm? Hug me closer — dah, dat‘ s right! Was n't you a awful sight, Havin’ me to baig you so?
Now ax whut you want to know,— Speak up, Ike, an’‘ spress yo'se' f!
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