Nana's Box

All'a kinfolk here 'bouts came ta send Nana off wit'a Lord's blessin, her pine box's ready but they's aint a one of us'n not skeered ta move her inta it.

Nana's done died afore, but ole Scratch sent her back to us meaner'n she used ta be. Eyes red as blood an teeth black as coal'n smellin a sulfer. We allun's is wantin ta git Nana in her box afore Satan throws her back from Hell agin.

So's now the womenfolks is singin an a prayin while us menfolks passes the corn squeezins round fer jes a little courage. We step up ta the ole lady an have the box ready ta go...

"Izat brimstone I'ma smellin, Zeke? Zekiel? ZEEEE!"








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