WHEN ‘RASTUS FIDDLES

When ’Rastus takes his fiddle out

   An’ tightens up the bow,

An’ tilts back in a kitchen chair

   So bizniz like we know

We’re goin’ to hev an evenin’s treat,

   An’ drive dull care away;

The nights they never seem so long

   When ‘Rastus starts to play.

It ain’t no Straddervarius,

   Thet fiddle owned by ‘Ras’;

‘Tain’t got no special history

   Like them uv upper class;

It’s jest a plain ol’ fiddle, but

   It’s got a voice thet sings

Jest like a bird when ‘Rastus draws

   His bow across the strings.

When ‘Rastus plays them jigs an’ reels

   We can’t keep still our feet;

An' mother who fur takin’ steps

   Can’t of’un times be beat,

Will kind uv glide around to pa,

   An’ fore he knows it he

Is goin’ round the kitchen floor

   To ‘Rastus’s mellerdy.

Then by an’ by he’ll settle down

   An’ play the “Mockin’ Bird”,

With all them little quips an’ quills,

   The like we never heard.

An’ when he strikes thee ol’ time hymns

   We can’t resist their spell,

But jest jine in each good ol’ piece

   Thet ‘Rastus plays so well.

Life on the farm ain’t ha’f so drear

   Sence ‘Rastus learned to play;

We hev no dread uv feelin’ dull

   At close uv weary day.

For ev’ry night when supper’s o’er,

   Out in the kitchen low

He bears us off to brighter scenes

   Upon his fiddle bow.

                                JOE CONE

November 8, 1905