Classic Poem

Come right in this house, Will Johnson!
Kin I teach you dignity?
Chasin' aft' them po'white children,
Jest because you wan'to play.

Whut does po' white trash keer fah you?
Want you keep away fum them,
Next, they'll be a-doin' meanness,
An' a-givin' you the blame.

Don't come mumblin' 'bout their playthings,
Yourn is good enough fah you;
'Twus the best that I could git you,
An' you've got to make them do.

Go'n' to break you fum that habit,
Yes, I am! An' mighty soon,
Next, you'll grow up like the white-folks,
All time whinin' fah the moon.

Runnin' with them po' white children—
Go'n' to break it up, I say!—
Pickin' up their triflin' habits,
Soon, you'll be as spilte as they.

Come on here, an' take the baby—
Mind now! Don't you let her fall—
'Fo' I'll have you runnin' with them,
I won't let you play at all.

Jest set there, an' mind the baby
Till I tell you—You may go;
An' jest let me ketch you chasin'
Aft' them white trash any mo'.