Beadle's Dime Novels No. 33: Maum Guinea and Her Plantation Children — page 55: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

4N UNLUCKY NIGGER. 49 “No, certing, ’tain’t fair!” cried several. “Tt’s de solum, blessed trute, dough, dat I hain’t no more nistoty’n an alligator. I don’ know who my mudder was, who * my fadder was; w’edder I’s got a blood-relation on de face of dis yearth, w’at name my own maumy gib me, w’ere I cum from, nor were T's going to, All I know is, might as well laugh as cry. I's a happy nigger, naturally. Don’t make no difference to me w’edder I was hatched out of an alliga- toy’s egg, or weedder I had member Congress for my fadder, long’s as I’ve ‘nuff to eat, don’t have to hurt myself workin’, end nuthin’ don’t happen to my banjo—yah! yah! yah !— “Oh, if I was but young ag’in, I'd lead a differen’ life ; I'd take my money and buy me a farm, An’ take—Rosa for my wife !” Ss And flourishing his hand across his beloved banjo, he boged to Miss Rose with a gallant air. “No you wouldn’t,” said Hyperion; “gib you to un’er- stand, Mister Scipio, J’s got a word to say about dat.” “Oh, ho! has you?” quoth Scipio, resignedly, while John- son drooped his head on his hand and looked steadily into the fire. It was plain the young lady had plenty of admirers. “Come now, Scip, tell suthin,” pleaded a girl by his side, “ Woll, I s'pose I can tell a lie, if I can’t tell truth ?” “But we ‘greed to tell true stories,” said Johnson. “Oh, gorry, that'll go hard—’gin de grain,” said Scipio, with another contortion. | “‘Howsomeber, Til try, an’ if it makes me sick, Rose dar ‘Il haye to také car’ o’ me. Woll, : de fac’ is, I was*born onlucky. I got more w’ippins w’en I was a young’un, dan would ’ave sarbed massa’s hull plan tation, if dey had been properly diwided. Yer see, I was allers getting into trouble—standin’ on my head ’stid of my heels, as a boy oughter; if missus send me of an errand, I . a Oo SS > wie | ae Om