Tell ol’ Phar’o’ fo’ to le’ my people go.”
It was melodious, it was harmonious, but it was also six o’clock in the morning.
“Oh, won’t they stop,” said Ethel, sleepily.
“Not by my command,” said I. “They are practising for the concert.”
“Oh, I’m so sleepy! What time is it?”
“Oh, ’twas a dark an’ stormy night,
Le’ my people go;
When Moses an’ the Israelite,
Le’ my people go.”
“Make them go,” said Ethel, her eyes wide open, but her mouth passing from the words to a yawn.