Macon Intelligencer

A Cute Specimen of Negro Wit.

The following, from the Louisville Reporter, is the best specimen of a negro story we ever read:

"I say, Cato," said a gemmen ob color, "didn't hear nufin 'bout de scrape wat de butchers had in de market house dis afternoon?"

"Gosh-a-mighty, no. Did dey use dier knibes?"

"Yes dat dey did, in a debil of a fuss."

"Oh, no you don't say so. Why how was it?"

"Why, a scrapin de benches!" shouted the wit, with a laugh that split his face from ear to ear.

"Well, Moonshine, I abnolege you came it ober me dat ere time," said Cato, "but I herrd wat's more 'stronary an dat just now."

"Wat's de natur ub it," said Moonshine.

"Why, der war a steamboat stove in a house up town yesterday ebenin!"

"Law! is possible?"

"Yes it is, and de cook's got foul of a waggon?"

"Poor feller!"

"An de mate, was roast to cinders!"

"My eyes!"

"And de clerk was seen eaten a hos wid one leg."

"Stop there. Now I'll tell you wa-wat 'tis; Cato, you can't stuff dat down my trote! You can't make dis nigga bleebe dat 'bout de hos wid de one leg."

"He-yaw, he-yaw, he-yaw," roared Cato, "I nebber said him had'nt de odder legs."

"Well, 'pose had twenty legs, how coull um clerk eat'em"

"Wy, you unfiskitated nigga, I did'n say he was eaten de hos, dat comes of not understandin de art of punkteration."

"But you says de mate war ros."

"So it war, in de stobe."

"De cook—wat come on him."

"Wy nuffin as I nos on; he bo't de fowl of'n a wagon, das all."

"I se-se-se-sees tro it it all now; but de house wat got stove in."

"You incellegaple mass ob sobility. I telld you dat de stobe was in de house; das de tiem you got used up; yaw, yaw, yaw, yaw! go way nigga, ob, hush!"