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by Paul Laurence Dunbar

FOLKS ain't got no right to cen-
suah othah folks about dey
Him dat giv' de squir'ls de bushtails
made de bobtails fu' de rabbits.
Him dat built de gread big moun-
tains hollered out de little
Him dat made de streets an' drive-
ways was n't shamed to make
de alleys.

We is all constructed diff'ent, d'ain't
no two of us de same;
We cain't he'p ouah likes an' dislikes,
ef we'se bad we ain't to blame.
Ef we'se good, we need n't show off,
case you bet it ain't ouah doin'
We gits into su'ttain channels dat we
jes' cain't he'p pu'suin'.

But we all fits into places dat no
othah ones could fill,
An' we does the things we has to,
big er little, good er ill.
John cain't tek de place o' Henry,
Su an' Sally ain't alike;
Bass ain't nuthin' like a suckah, chub
ain't nuthin' like a pike.
W'en you come to t'ink about it,
how it's all planned out it's
Nothin's done er evah happens, 'dout
hit's somefin' dat's intended;
Don't keer whut you does, you has to,
an' hit sholy beats de dickens,--
Viney, go put on de kittle, I got one
o' mastah's chickens.

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