VI Plantation Play-Song (Putnam County — 1856.)
HIT’S a gittin’ mighty late, w’en de Guinny-hins squall,
En you better dance now, ef you gwineter dance a tall,
Fer by dis time termorrer night you can’t hardly crawl,
Kaze you’ll hatter take de hoe ag’in en likewise de maul—
Don’t you hear dat bay colt a kickin’ in his stall?
Stop yo’ humpin’ up yo’ sho’lders do!
Dat’ll never do! Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Hit takes a heap er scrougin’
For ter git you thoo—
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Ef you niggers don’t watch, you’ll sing anudder chune,
Fer de sun’ll rise’n ketch you ef you don’t be mighty soon;
En de stars is gittin’ paler, en de ole gray coon
Is a settin’ in de grape-vine a watchin’ fer de moon.
W’en a feller comes a knockin’
Des holler—Oh, shoo!
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Oh, swing dat yaller gal!
Do, boys, do!
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Oh, tu’n me loose! Lemme ‘lone! Go way, now!
W’at you speck I come a dancin’ fer ef I dunno how?
Deze de ve’y kinder footses w’at kicks up a row;
Can’t you jump inter de middle en make yo’ gal a bow?
Look at dat merlatter man
A follerin’ up Sue;
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
De boys ain’t a gwine
W’en you cry boo hoo—
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!