Sciplinin' Sister Brown

Shet up dat noise, you chillen! Dar's some one at de do'.
Dribe out dem dogs; you 'Rastus, tek Linkum off de flo'!


Des ma'ch yo'se'f right in sah! (Jane, tek dem ashes out!
Dis house look lak ur hog-pen; you M'randy, jump erbout!).


W'y bress my soul, hit's Ef'um -- w'y, Ef'um, how you do?
An' Tempie an' de chillen? I hopes dey's all well too.


Hyuh, M'randy, bresh dat stool off; now, Ef'um, des sot down.
Wut's de news f'um off de Ridge an' wut's de news in town?


Now doan' you t'ink dem niggahs hed Susan 'fo de chu'ch
'Bout dawncin' at de pa'ty -- dey call dat sinnin' much.


Dey up an' call ur meetin' ter 'scipline Sistah Brown,
But de night dey hol' de meetin' she tuk herse'f to town.


Dey sont de Bo'd ob Deacons, de pahstah at de head,
Ter wait urpon de sistah an' pray wid her, dey said,


But Susan mighty stubbo'n, an' wen dey lif' ur pra'r
She up an' tell de deacons she des wawn' gwine ter cyar.


An' wen de Reb'ren' Pa'son prayed 'bout ur "sheep wuz los'."
An' 'bout de "po bac'slidah," she gin her head ur toss!


I seed de debbil raisin' in de white ob Susan's eyes --
Fyeah she blow dat deacon-bo'd ter "mansions in de skies,"


I des tuk down my bawnjer an' den I 'gins an' plays;
"Come dy fount ob ebbry blessin', chune my ha't ter sing dy praise."


De pa'son an' de deacons dey jined me pooty soon;
Lawd! Dat bawnjer shuk itse'f ur-playin' ob de chune!


An' wen dey mos' wuz shoutin', I tightened up er string,
Drapped right inter "Money Musk" an' gin de chune full swing.


De "Debbil's Dream" come arter -- de debbil wuz ter pay,
Dem niggahs fell ter pattin' -- I larf mos' ebbry day!


Deacon Jones got on his feet, de pa'son pulled him down;
I played ur little fastah, an' sho's my name am Brown,


De pa'son an' de deacons jined han's right on dis flo',
Su'cled right and su'cled lef' -- it sutny wuz er show.


Dey 'naded up an' down de flo' an' w'en hit come ter swing,
De pa'son gin hisse'f a flirt an' cut de pidgin-wing!


An' we'n urfo' de meetin' dat 'mittee med its 'po't
'Bout Sistah Susan's dawncin', dey cut it mighty sho't.


De chyuhsman, Mr. Pa'son, said in tones so mil' an' sweet:
"Sistah Brown wa'n't guilty, caze -- she nebber crossed her feet!"