  Joseph Seaman Cotter, Kentucky's only negro writer of real creative ability, was born near Bardstown, Kentucky, February 2, 1861. From his hard day-labor, he went to night school in Louisville, and he has educated himself so successfully that he is at the present time principal of the Tenth Ward colored school, Louisville. Cotter has published three volumes of verse, the first of which was Links of Friendship (Louisville, 1898), a book of short lyrics. This was followed by a four-act verse drama, entitled Caleb, the Degenerate (Louisville, 1903). His latest book of verse is A White Song and a Black One (Louisville, 1909). Cotter's response to Paul Lawrence Dunbar's After a Visit to Kentucky, was exceedingly well done, but his Negro Love Song is the cleverest thing he has written hitherto. His work has been praised by Alfred Austin, Israel Zangwill, Madison Cawein, Charles J. O'Malley, and other excellent judges of poetry. Cotter is a great credit to his race, and he has won, by his quiet, unassuming life and literary labors, the respect of many of Louisville's most prominent citizens. One of his admirers has ranked his work above Dunbar's, but this rating is much too high for any thing he has done so far. In the last year or two he has turned his attention to the short-story, and his first collection of them has just appeared, entitled Negro Tales (New York, 1912).
NEGRO LOVE SONG [From A White Song and a Black One (Louisville, Kentucky, 1909)] I lobes your hands, gal; yes I do. I lobes your earnings thro' an' thro'. (I'se gwine ter wed ter-morro'.) Now, heah de truf. I'se mos' nigh broke; I wants ter take you fer my yoke; So let's go wed ter-morro'. Now, don't look shy, an' don't say no. (I'se gwine ter wed ter-morro'.) I hope you don't expects er sho' When we two weds ter-morro'. I needs er licends—you know I do— I'll borrow de price ob de same frum you, An' den we weds ter-morro'. How pay you back? In de reg'ler way. When you becomes my honey You'll habe myself fer de princ'pal pay, An' my faults fer de inter's' money. Dat suits you well? Dis cash is right. So we two weds ter-morro' night, An' you wuks all de ter-morro's. |
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