CASABIANCA (Colored).
One darky stood in the 'backer patch,
Whence all the rest had fled;
While the mule-heels, clods, and green worms flew
A-whizzing round his head.
Savory, stout, and black he stood,
As born to work a farm,
While gaping mouth and bulging eyes
Betokened his alarm.
That mule kicked hard: he wouldn't leave
"Unless de boss said so."
"De boss," unconscious of his plight,
Had gone off to the show.
The darky yelled, "See here, boss, say!
Mus' I lef dis mule go?"
Just then the boss was miles away,
And Cuffee called out "Whoa!"
Quite thick and fast a cloud of dust
Arose towards the sky,
And filled the darky's eyes and nose
Like flour off hotel pie.
"Say, boss!" again poor Cuffee cried,
"Ef 'tain't mos' time I'se gone?"
Naught but the clattering hoofs replied,
As the agile mule kicked on.
At last there came a thunderous crash
That made the earth resound;
And when the dust and debris passed,
The mule could not be found.
That fateful last terrific kick
Had struck on Cuffee's head;
And now the mule, a shattered wreck,
Lay far off, limp and dead.