"Mr. Teacher, come to supper,"
(And the chimney piece struck nine)
"After dat we'll drive to meetin',
'Viding you are of de min'.
Tell me you are Congregationan;
First I ever heard de name;
Must be like de Presbyter'an—
Name sounds very much de same."
An the simple meal proceeded,
Quickened by the savory food,
Uncle Tom, from cynic terseness,
Fell into a happier mood.
"I was overseer in slave time,
And a mean un, so dey say,
Strapped Ma' Ann so much, ha! ha!
She married me to git away.
"In dem times we done some talkin',
But this writin' business—shaw!
I have seen de time, I tell ye,
I could talk a lady so
She would pull her fan to pieces
Barely answering 'Yes' or 'No.'"
Then I talked while he sat silent,
Gave a lecture broad and deep;
Hark! what sounds from the dim corner?
Ah! my host has fallen asleep.
Asleep! And his slumber is that of contentment,
Dreaming and smiling o'er memories fond.
Asleep! And he slumbers in ignorance blissful
Of the great busy world his cabin beyond.
How small is the light that illumines his pathway,
And his noonday how like to the darkness of night;
Yet he keeps in the beam directing his footsteps,
So must his intent be accounted for right.
I would not, I dare not, sit in Judgment upon thee,
Tho' the light on thy path be less bright than on mine,
But rather come to the fulness of duty
In my life as thou hast so well done in thine.