Well, hit cum ter pars uh yeah arfter dat dey cum ergin an’ dey say, “We ain’ got uh cent dis time, an’ no cattle; how-some-eber, we mus’ hab cawn; we kyant lib ’dout hit. So dey gib all deah plantations. So King Fario own all Egyp’ lan’, an’ he carry on higher still, jes’ scan’lus, ve’y mischevious, kase he own mos’ ez many plantations ez Ab’ham.”

Brudderin, uh yeah went by, an’ heah cum dem po’ horngry sheppards an’ farmers ergin. Dey say, “We almos’ starbed we so horngry.” King Fario say “What you got ter gimmy, now?” An’ dey say, “Nuffin ’ceppin’ our bodies, futto be yo’ slabes.”

Moses wuz uh gre’t man, ve’y gre’t man (he nuss wuz uh cullud pusson), so he look on all de time, stroked his whiskus, leaned on dat cutesome rod ub his’n an’ didn’ say nuffin, jes’ meddowtate an’ muse, muse an’ meddowtate. Now, Moses natch’ly felt po’ly kase he had kilt uh Gyptian de day befo’ fuh kickin’ uh Is’lite, one ub he people. Pres’ny heah cum King Fario, dribin’ fo’ jack-asses in uh chariot he had jes’ bought wid sum ub his cawn money. Little Billy say he read somewha in de Bible dat King Fario shuck han’s wid Moses, an’ say ter him in uh whispuh:

“Moses, I’m gwine ter teck all dem Gyptians ez slabes. Dar’s such uh drouf, so many frogs, locusses an’ grasshoppus, da ain’ no use ter set ’em at wuck in de fiel’s, so I’m gwine ter meck ’em wuck hyard fuh dat cawn. I wan’ at leas’ uh harf million sot ter wuck dis day, but what dey gwine ter do? Dat’s de consequation! Dar’s uh gre’t deman’ fuh bricks ev’ywha, but meh clay ain’ ve’y good.”

Den Moses riz up his rod, gib it uh twiss, an’ cunjured dat rod. Den dey had uh little serpent dance, an’ while dey wuz uh dancin’ Moses say, “You got ’bun’ance ub straw, an’ ef’n de straw gib out you got plenty ub stubble.” King Fario say, “Uh case orntried is hyard ter justify.” Den Moses gib he rod nubba twiss (Little Billy say dat de rod wuz made outin witch hazel wood), an’ he spressify, “I’s foun’ out uh way ter meck bricks ’doutin straw!” An’ right ’way dem po’ slabes wuz sot ter brick-meckin’.

“Let us meck brick.”

Den arfter dey bin meckin bricks ’boutin two hun’erd yeah hit cum ter pars dat de profit Ex-o-dus said, “Ye shall no mo’ gib de people straw ter meck bricks, ez heahtofo’; let ’em go an’ gavva straw fuh demsebs.”

Brudderin, when you gib bricks uh solid thought hit’s uh pow’ful subjec’. Fac’ is, we is all bricks, an’ made fum de same clay. I is not spressifyin’ de application ter straw bricks, kase I dunno how dey is turnt ter clay.

Bricks is our house futto dwell in an’ wusshup in while we libbin’, an’ our house in de groun’ tell de day cum when de gre’t Marster blow He hohn an’ we stan’ befo’ uh gate finah dan any King Sol’man ebba had. Belubbed, is you gwine ter try an’ swing on dat gate? [A voice: “Yas, Lawd!”] an’ be da ter heah St. Peter say “Heah cum meh chillun; lemmy call deah names.” Brudderin, sistus an’ little chillun, will he call yo’ names?

Tilly Mink: “Brer Rasmus, I’m mos’ swingin’ on dat gate now!”