Oh, doan' go out, 'Lias, doan' go out,
For de kodak fiend he 's all about;
You know yo' features mighty plain,
An' he haunt de street an' de meader-lane;
He sets in de kyar w'en de kyar goes by,
An' de railroad one, he 's mighty sly;
He doan' care w'eder you clean or not,
An' he 'll take yo' rags right on de spot.
Ef he do it now wid yo' 'lasses face,
I tell you, 'Lias, you 'll be 'n disgrace.
No, doan' go out, 'Lias, doan' go out,
For de kodak fiend he 's all about;
He come down hyar de oder day,
An' he tuk dis shanty w'en I 's away;
An' he drove in front de goats an' geese,
An' de ole lame sheep, wid his thick black fleece;
De hats in de window an' rags he got,
Wid his hoodoo gun, f'om de meader-lot.
Oh, de kodak fiend, he 's sly an' mean,
An' you can't go out near his machine,
Or he 'll take you down wid yo' kinked-up hair,
An' yo' dirty clothes, and yo' feet all bare.
He 's got de meader, de bridge an' stream,
An' de boss's mule an' d' ole ox-team;
An' I doan' now reckon a single spot
Dat he has n't look' for, an' has n't got.
W'en yo' Uncle Mose' rode on de mule,
An' brought de chil'en home f'om school, —
Wid six 'pon de small mule's holler back, —
De kodak fiend went 'long his track,
An' just 's dey reached de ole stone wall,
He sot 'is gun, an' he tuk dem all;
An' I hear he call his hoodooed thing
"De School-Out, Mule-Back Blackberry String."
So I tell you, 'Lias, 't ain't safe any more
For 'spect'ble folks to go out-door;
'Nless dey go in de edge of night,
W'en de sun an' de gun is out o' sight.