“Ol’ missus used to send him to hunt eggs,” said Chloe, “and he’d just lay down on the hay and go to sleep. He’d go to sleep standin’ up keepin’ the flies off the table, that Gabe would.”
“Nobody could do nothin’ wid dat boy noways,” said Uncle Andy, reflectively; “he’ll hab to wait till all de folks dat know him is gone dead afore he plays dat game ob de rheumatiz an’ de pore-house. Jis’ now he’s like de folks dat wear eye-glasses to pop on an’ off as suits de ’casion; when he done gits de rheumatiz right, he’ll be like de people dat wears specs; dat means business.”
“Uncle Andy, won’t you sing, and let the others join in the chorus?” asked Cecil. “It will be splendid now that Israel is here.”
“To be shore we will sing, honey! What will you hab?”
Before Cecil could make choice Uncle Andy broke into that melody so dear to his race—“Roll, Jordan, Roll,” and Israel’s deep, pathetic voice thrilled the hearts of the city boys as no other had done; no noted concert singer had tones so full and grand as issued from his powerful chest without effort or thought that he was making an impression upon his listeners.
“There is one thing that Gabe could do,” remarked Kitty, when the last notes died away in perfect accord, “he could sing like a seraphim; that ‘Roll, Jordan, Roll’ was his favorite.”
“Dat is so; dat is jis’ so!” agreed Uncle Andy, whose feelings were softened by the melody, “and I’ll tell yer what was passin’ in my mind while we was singin’. I is gwine to write a letter to Gabe dis yer berry night. Roy, honey, bring de pen; Kitty, clar dat table; I’s gwine ter write dis yer hour an’ tell Gabe Websta ter gib up de rheumatiz an’ go ter work.”
“Oh, Uncle Andy, Gabe won’t be in a hurry to get that letter; wait till mornin’,” said Kitty.
“No, now is de ’cepted time, Kitty. If de doctahs git to ’westigatin’ it’ll knock Gabe higher ’n a kite; he’ll git well ob dat rheumatiz, an’ be popped out ’n dat pore-house whar my letter will nebber jine him. No, sah! Dat letter has done got ter be writ dis yer ebenin’.”
“To-morrow would be airly enough,” said Kitty, preparing to arrange the table for the writing materials.