Fetchin’ Water

Watch how dem touris’ like fe look
Out ‘pon me little daughter,
Whenever fe her tu’n^[1] to cook
Or fetch a pan of water:
De sight look gay;
Dat is one way,
But I can tell you say,^[2]
‘Nuff rock’tone in de sea, yet none
But those ‘pon lan’ know ’bouten sun.^[3]

De pickny comin’ up de hill,
Fightin’ wid heavy gou’d,^[4]
Won’t say it sweet him, but he will
Complain about de load:
Him feel de weight,
Dem watch^[5] him gait;
It’s so some of de great
High people fabour t’ink^[6] it sweet
Fe batter^[7] in de boilin’ heat.

Dat boy wid de karásene pan,^[8]
Sulky down to him toe,
His back was rollin’ in a san’,^[9]
For him pa mek him crow:^[10]
Him feel it bad,
Near mek him mad,
But teach him^[11] he’s a lad;
Go disobey him fader wud,^[12]
When he knows dat his back would sud!^[13]

But Sarah Jane she wus ‘an all,
For she t’row ‘way^[14] de pan,
An’ jam her back agains’ de wall
Fe fight her mumma Fan:
Feelin’ de pinch,
She mek a wrinch
An’ get ‘way; but de wench
Try fe put shame upon her ma,
Say dat she cook de bittle raw.^[15]

Dis water-fetchin’ sweet dem though
When day mek up dem min’,
An’ ’nuff o’ dem ‘tart out fe go,
An’ de weader is fine:
De pan might leak,
Dem don’t a ‘peak,
Nor eben try fe seek
Some clay or so^[16] to mek it soun’;
Dem don’t care ef dem wet all roun’.

Dén all ’bout de road dem ‘catter
Marchin’ álong quite at ease;
Dat time listen to deir chatter,
Talkin’ anyt’ing dem please:
Dem don’t a fear,
Neider a care,
For who can interfere?
T’ree mile — five, six tu’n, — an’ neber^[17]
W’ary, but could do it^[18] for eber.