You talk like fools. Ain't Braddock, too, a slave?
He's 'bout as big to Egerton as your thumb.
Wes Dicey.
It seems to me like, boys, we're in a boat.
We've pulled together hard as any men
Tryin' to make the shore off there. But here
She's leakin' and our biscuits have give out.
The question now is, hadn't we better make
For this shore here? It ain't the one we want;
But here there's bread and water. But they say—
And this it is that seems to rub Sam most—
'Scuttle your boat or you don't land here.' Well,
Scuttle her, then I say.
(Hisses from the crowd)
Now you hold on.
I love the Union much as any man.
And I've stood by her, too, through thick and thin.
Ain't I stood by her, boys?
Jim King.
Wes is our friend.
Wes Dicey.
And will again. Then what do I mean? Just this:
It's a queer shore ain't got a cove or two
Where you can hide her. I don't mean to say
That Sam ain't done his best to captain us;
He has. But here she is, she's goin' down,
So I say land. For bread tastes mighty good,
And air this time o' year won't keep you warm
If you're turned out. Later, we get our strength,
We'll patch her up and make for that green shore
Sam talks of. But just now it's this or this.
(Points toward the mill, then to the ground)