BETWEEN THE TWO LIGHTS.

No use talking, missy—no use talking 'Bout de daylight and dat kind ob ting 'Tween the two lights—sunset and sunrising— Dis ole nigger happier dan a king. Dis ole nigger don got all he want to, All he want, and more 'an he can say; Gib him night, de darker and de better, White folks more 'an welcome to de day. In de day him ole and pore and wretched, Got to tote de load and swing de hoe, Got to do jest what de white folks tole him, Got to trabel when dey tole him go. Don't own nothing but an empty cabin; Got no wife, no chillen at him knee; Got no nothing but a little pallet, And a pot to bile him hominy. In de day him gits no 'spectful notice, Him is only "dat ole nigger Brown;" In de night him tells you, little missy, Things git mightily turned upside down. Den somehow him's young and rich and happy, Den him own more acres dan him see: Den him got a powerful lot ob hosses, Den de white folks stop an speak to he. Den him hab a big house like ole massa's, Dan Melinda is him lubly wife; Den de little chillen call him pappy, Den him see de bery best ob life. Den sometimes him talking in de meeting. An' him feel de biggest in de town, For at night him neber "dat ole nigger," Him the Reberend Mister Isaac Brown. "Dreaming," is him? Dreaming, do you call it? Then him s'pose it's living in de day. Well, him likes de night-time and de dreaming, For him griefs wid sunshine go away. No use talking, missy, no use talking 'Bout de sunshine and dat kind ob ting; 'Tween de two lights—sunset and sunrising— Dis ole nigger happier dan a king.