“Why not have some of these husky males carry Tim up on deck?” suggested Frances, “I don’t believe it will be too cold. Anyway, there is a wonderful moon and Jack can take his banjo up and sing to us.”
Her plan was approved and Tim was carefully carried up and deposited on the deck mattress, while the rest sat around on pillows. Jack came up with his banjo and started thrumming.
“What shall it be?” he asked. “It is no use you saying, though, because I don’t know anything but the darky songs I have picked up at home.”
“As if they weren’t the most tuneful songs in the world!” Ellen added.
“Why not sing that Revival Hymn, Jack dear?” asked Jane.
And Jack began:
“Oh, whar shill we go w’en de great day comes,
Wid de blowin’ or de trumpets en de bangin’ er de drums?
How many po’ sinners’ll be kotched out late
En fine no latch ter de golden gate?