Sister Becky (interrupting): “Pawson Demby, you mus’ mean Ham or Sham?”
“Chile, I kin read; I means Ram! Dat’s what I mean! Ram wuz uh white pusson; Ham wuz uh cullud pusson. Well, dey kep’ on fogittin’ till Jesse fogot Dabid. But blessid to say, de lars’ one wuz not uh fogitter; he recommembered mos’ too well—leas’wise fuh dese days. He had Uriahy kilt kase he wuz rite smart tuck on Uriahy’s wife. In dese days it’s mo’ dan de chuch ’low; how-some-eber, in dem days it didn’t stress uh pusson ef’n uh man’s wife fogot him, kase dey had so many dey wouldn’t miss ’em, ’cep’in five er six lef’ ’em. Now, chillun, boys wuz bad in dem days same as now. Po’ King Dabid’s son ’stressed him pow’ful, but he neber fogot him, an’ he mus’ uh favo’d he Pa and bin uh monstus fine-lookin’ chile, kase de Bible say—lemmy read it to you: ‘Ab-so-lum wuz prais’ fuh he beauty fum de sole ub he foot ebin to de crown ub he haid.’ An’ de king wuz gwine to meck a Babtis’ preacher outin him, but he fogot his po’ father an’ run uh way; and what wuz de consequasion ub dat boy’s badness? Sistus an’ chillun, it’s wussa dan stealin’ watermillions er chickens; it’s mos’ ez bad ez dancin’ an’ playin’ de fiddle on de Sabbuth. Well, de Bible tell us dat Ab-so-lum[[4]] rid ’pon uh mule, an’ de mule went under de thick bows ub uh jack oak, an’ his haid kotch hold ub de oak (I mean de haid ub little Ab-so-lum) an’ he wuz’ tuck up ’tween de heaben an’ de uth; an’ de mule dat wuz under him went ’way, an’ dat wuz de las’ ub po’ Ab-so-lum. Ez many hosses ez dat ventersum chil’ mus’ uh had, an’ ez many ez his brudder Solomon had, it’s quare to me why he rid uh ornry mule. Dey mus’ uh bin uh breed ub mules an’ jackasses dat’s died out—kase mules an’ jackasses wuz de favorite beases in dem days.
“De chillun ub Ephram fogot de works ub de Lawd, an’ his wonders, arfter he had rain down manner ’pon ’em to eat. Uncle Reubin say de manner wuz mushrooms. De reason ub de flood, is kase de chillun ub man fogot deah benefits. Dey wan’t satisfied wid creeks an’ ribbers, but dey mus’ provok’ uh flood. Is dar any pusson in dis chuch dat would fogit Miles Ribber? De Petracks would. Dunno though! Kase I reckin da wan’t no ribbers in dem days lubly as Miles Ribber. Kin I eber fogit her wha’ I wuz born? How it charm an’ conjur me when I goes fishin’, oysterin’ er crabbin’ in de mawnin’s, when de ribber is cam. Den de trees is ’flected in de watah an’ de heb’nly clouds meck rainbows in de watah. An’ dat Miles Ribber is so clare when de trees is ’flected in de mawnin’ befo’ de sun-up, you kin see de jewdraps on de leabes. An’ sometimes all day long when de breeze is sorf de sun plays on de ripples, an’ when de sun git tired an’ sink in de wes’ de moon plays on de watah sorter ridin’ de canterin’ wabes. An’ de hooppo-wills sing, an’ de mockin’ birds chant, an’ de wabes chases de moonlight, an’ de moonlight chases de wabes; an’ de stars way down deep in de watah winks an’ twinks at yer, an’ dey looks ez bright ez de eyes ub Phareoh’s daughter an’ almos’ ez sorf’ ez uh possum’s. It’s uh sin to play on de fiddle, flute an’ fife, an’ to dance, but, brudderin, it’s ’spirin’ an’ heb’nly to see de moon dance on Miles Ribber, spreadin’ hissef on de top ub de wabes, makin’ dem de color ub silver, jes’ like dear ole Missis hyah.
“Yes! Pawson Demby born close to Miles Ribber, an’ he lubs de watah nex’ to music. I’d lub to hab bin on de ark; dey tells me mos’ everything wuz on it, so ’cose music wuz. An’ I wouldn’t be s’prised ef dat sweet little cullud boy, Ham, didn’t play de banjo, an’ Sham de bones, an’ ’cose de udder brudder (I fogit his name) played! I reckin de hyarp. Kase hyarps wuz in de fashin in dem days. Dear little Dabid used to play de hyarp at night when he watched his Pa’s flocks, to make hissef feel happy, an’ to skere de wolves an’ bars ’way. An’ he played fuh Saul er his daughter, I fogit which. Wonder how dey got deah hyarp an’ banjo strings dem days. Well, I kin almos’ see dat jus’ man, de captin ub de boat, arfter all de beases bin fed an’ bedded, set down in de stern ub de ship, take de rudder, lite his pipe, sigh fuh de watahs to cease an’ long fuh his dove to come back. An’ when de moon ris I specks Ham chune his banjo, Sham his bones, an’ de udder brudder wid a quare name, twank de hyarp. An’ den dey mus’ hab played, ‘Roll, Jordan, Roll,’ ‘One Bright Ribber to Cross,’ ‘Swing Lo’, Sweet Chariot,’ ‘Go Down Moses,’ till de stars sunk in de skies, and de beases got relarmed.
“Brudderin, we ain’t sung dat lars him fuh uh long time. Uncle Eph, you rase it an’ we will sing some ub de vuses, so I kin res’ mehsef uh little.”
GO DOWN MOSES.
When Israel wuz in Egypt’s lan’:
Let meh people go,
Oppressed so hard dey could not stand,
Let meh people go.