Away Down South

I saw the Town's tame alligator Adozing in the sun, They had built a fence around him And he really couldn't run; But my old Mammy whispered low: "O come along chile! Do!— Aw reckon aw wouldn't 'sturb him Honey—if aw were yo'!"

I saw an old grey fisherman Mending his fishing-net, With a lovely bull-dog by him He keeps just for a pet— And Mammy said: "Dat dog, sure sweet! His eyes am kind an blue; But aw'd take de far side of de street Honey—if aw were yo'."

I saw the old brown-pea-nut man, Beneath a cotton-wood tree,— O his little push-cart whistles The most delightfully! And though Mammy doesn't like pea-nuts I thought we'd get a few— Till she said: "Aw wouldn't buy or'nary things Honey—if aw were yo'!"

"Come! Mammy'll get yo' paw-paws,— Or little yallow pears! Pea-nuts! Dey's for monkeys, 'An efelunts an' bears! Less find de hurdy-gurdy boy; Come 'long! Dat's what we'll do— Aw'd leave dat whistling pea-nut man Honey—if aw were yo'."

Well—I like to walk with Mammy Down town on market-day, With people going here and there, And all the shops so gay; She wears her best bandanna then Bound round and round her head, Her face is nice,—though its mighty dark— And her dress is poppy-red.

Yes. I like to go with Mammy;— But I tell you this is true, I wish she wouldn't say so much: "Honey—if aw were yo'!"