Speakin' at de Cou't-house

I was kind o' disapp'inted

At de smallness of de man,

Case I'd allus pictered great folks

On a mo' expansive plan;

But I t'ought I could respect him

An' tek in de wo'ds he said,

Fu' dey sho was somp'n knowin'

In de bald spot on his haid.

But hit did seem so't o' funny

Aftah waitin' fu' a week

Dat de people kep' on shoutin'

So de man des could n't speak;

De ho'ns dey blared a little,

Den dey let loose on de

drums,—

Some one tol' me dey was playin'

"See de conkerin' hero comes."

"Well," says I, "you all is white

folks,

But you 's actin' queer,

What 's de use of heroes comin'

Ef dey cain't talk w'en dey 's

here?"

Aftah while dey let him open,

An' dat man he waded in,

An' he fit de wahs all ovah

Winnin' victeries lak sin.

W'en he came down to de present,

Den he made de feathahs fly.

He des waded in on money,

An' he played de ta'iff high.

An' he said de colah question,

Hit was ovah, solved, an' done,

Dat de dahky was his brothah,

Evah blessed mothah's son.

Well he settled all de trouble

Dat's been pesterin' de lan',

Den he set down mid de cheerin'

An' de playin' of de ban'.

I was feelin' moughty happy

Twell I hyeahed somebody

speak,

"Well, dat 's his side of de bus'-

ness,

But you wait for Jones nex'

weck."