Fishin'

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search
Fishin 65.jpg
Fishin 66.jpg
Fishin 68.jpg
Fishin 70.jpg
Fishin 72.jpg
Fishin 74.jpg

W’en I git up in de mo’nin’ an’ de clouds is big
an’ black,
Dey’s a kin’ o’ wa’nin’ shivah goes a’scootin’
down my back;
Den I says to my ol’ ooman ez I watches down
de lane,
“Don’t you so’t o’ reckon, Lizy, dat we gwine
to have some rain?”

“Go on, man,” my Lizy answah, “you cain’t
fool me, not a bit,
I don’t see no rain a-comin’, ef you ‘s wishin’ fu’
it, quit,
Case de mo’ you t’ink erbot it, an’ de mo’ you
pray an’ wish,
W’y, de rain stay ‘way de longah, spechul ef
you wants to fish.”

But I see huh pat de skillet, an’ I see huh cas’
huh eye
Wid a kin’ o’ anxious motion to’ds de da’kness
in de sky;
An’ I knows whut she ‘s a-t’inkin’, ‘dough she
tries so ha’d to hide,
She ‘s a-saying’, “Would n’t catfish now tas’e
mons’tous bully, fried?”

Den de clouds git black an’ blackah, an’ de thun-
dah ‘mence to roll,
An’ de rain, hit ‘mence a-fallin’, oh, I’s happy,
bless my soul!
Ez I look at dat ol’ skillet, an’ I ‘magine I kin see
Jes a slew o’ new-ketched catfish sizzlin’ daih
fu’ huh an me.

“T ain’t no use to go a-ploughin’, fu’ de groun’ll
be too wet.
So I puts out fu’ de big house at a moughty
pace, you bet,
An’ ol’ mastah say, “Well, Lishy, ef you think
hit ‘s gwine to rain,
Go on fishin’, hit’s de weathah, an’ I ‘low we
cain’t complain.”

Talk erbout a dahky walkin’ wid his haid up
in de aih!
Have to feel mine evah minute to be sho’ I got it
daih;
Fu’ de win’ is cuttin’ capahs an a-lashin’ thoo de
trees,
But de rain keeps on a-singin’ blessid songs,
lak “Tek yo’ ease.”

Wid my pole erpon my shouldah an’ my wo’m-
can in my han’,
I kin feel de fish a-waitin’ w’en I strikes de
rivah’s san’;
Nevah min’, you ho’ny scoun’els, need n’ swim
erroun’ an’ grin,
I’ll be grinnin’ in a minute w’en I ‘mence to
haul you in.

W’en de fish begin to nibble, an’ de co’k begin
to jump,
I’s erfeared dey’ll quit dey bitin’, case dey hyeah
my hea’t go “thump”
Twell de co’k go way down undah, an’ I raise
a awful shout,
Ez a big ol’ yallah belly comes a-gallivantin’ out.

Need n’t wriggle, Mistah Catfish, case I got you
jes de same,
You been eatin’, I’ll be eatin’, an’ we needer ain’t
to blame.
But you need n’t feel so lonesome fu’ I’s throwin’
out to see
Ef dey ain’t some of yo’ comerds fu’ to keep you
company.

Spo’t? dis fishin’! now you talkin’, w’y dey
ain’t no kin’ to beat;
I do’ keer ef I is soakin’, laigs, an’ back, an’ naik,
an’ feet,
It’s de spo’t I’s lookin’ aftah. Hit ‘s de pleasure
an’ de fun,
Dough I knows dat Lizy’s waitin’ wid de skillet
w’en I’s done.