"All right, old fellow." I knew the song—such as there was of it—and its chorus, as every one does who ever heard the Jubilee Singers render it; but I scarcely understood the meaning of the preparations which Budge made. He drew a large rocking-chair into the middle of the room, and exclaimed:—
"There, Uncle Harry—you sit down. Come along, Tod—you sit on that knee, and I'll sit on this. Lift up both hands, Tod, like I do. Now we're all ready, Uncle Harry."
I sang the first line:—
"When Israel was in bondage, they cried unto the Lord,"
without any assistance, but the boys came in powerfully on the refrain, beating time simultaneously with their four fists upon my chest. I cannot think it strange that I suddenly ceased singing, but the boys viewed my action from a different standpoint.
"What makes you stop, Uncle Harry?" asked Budge.
"Because you hurt me badly, my boy; you mustn't do that again."
"Why, I guess you ain't very strong: that's the way we do to papa, an' it don't hurt him."
Poor Tom! No wonder he grows flat-chested.
"Guesh you's a ky-baby," suggested Toddie.