Nebuchadnezzar

Irwin Russell (1853–1879)

YOU, Nebuchadnezzar, whoa, sah!

Whar is you tryin’ to go, sah?

I ’d hab you fur to know, sah,

I ’s a-holdin’ ob de lines.

You better stop dat prancin’,

You ’s paw’ful fond ob dancin’,

But I ’ll bet my yeah’s advancin’

Dat I ’ll cure you ob yo’ shines.

Look heah, mule! Better min’ out;

Fus’ t’ing you know you ’ll fin’ out

How quick I ’ll wear dis line out

On your ugly, stubbo’n back.

You needn’t try to steal up;

An’ lif dat precious heel up;

You ’s got to plough dis fiel’ up,

You has, sah, fur a fac’.

Dar, dat ’s de way to do it;

He ’s comin’ right down to it;

Jes watch him ploughin’ troo it!

Dis nigger ain’t no fool.

Some folks dey would ’a’ beat him;

Now, dat would only heat him—

I know just how to treat him:

You mus’ reason wid a mule.

He minds me like a nigger.

If he wuz only bigger

He ’d fotch a mighty figger,

He would, I tell you! Yes, sah!

See how he keeps a-clickin’!

He ’s as gentle as a chicken,

And nebber thinks o’ kickin’—

Whoa dar! Nebuchadnezzah!

Is this heah me, or not me?

Or is de debbil got me?

Wuz dat a cannon shot me?

Hab I laid heah more ’n a week?

Dat mule do kick amazin’!

De beast was sp’iled in raisin’;

But now I spect he ’s grazin’

On de oder side de creek.