Mrs. G. “Shut up, this moment! What do you know about love? I didn’t love your master when I married him, and people don’t marry for love now. So go and put on your calico dress, and meet me in the kitchen.”
As the servant left for the kitchen, the mistress remarked: “I am glad that the Doctor has sold Sam, for now I’ll have her marry Cato, and I’ll have them both in the house under my eyes.”
As Hannah entered the kitchen, she said: “Oh, Cato, do go and tell missis dat you don’t want to jump de broomstick wid me,—dat’s a good man. Do, Cato; kase I nebber can love you. It was only las week dat massa sold my Sammy, and I don’t want any udder man. Do go tell missis dat you don’t want me.” To which Cato replied: “No, Hannah, I ain’t a-gwine to tell missis no such thing, kase I does want you, and I ain’t a-gwine to tell a lie for you ner nobody else. Dar, now you’s got it! I don’t see why you need to make so much fuss. I is better lookin’ den Sam; an’ I is a house servant, an’ Sam was only a fiel hand; so you ought to feel proud of a change. So go and do as missis tells you.”
As the woman retired, the man continued: “Hannah needn’t try to get me to tell a lie; I ain’t a-gwine to do it, kase I dose want her, an’ I is bin wantin’ her dis long time, an’ soon as massa sold Sam, I knowed I would get her. By golly, I is gwine to be a married man. Won’t I be happy? Now, ef I could only jess run away from ole massa, an’ get to Canada wid Hannah, den I’d show ’em who I was. Ah! dat reminds me of my song ’bout ole massa and Canada, an’ I’ll sing it. Dis is my moriginal hyme. It comed into my head one night when I was fass asleep under an apple tree, looking up at de moon.”
While Hannah was getting ready for the nuptials, Cato amused himself by singing—
De happiest day I ever did see,
I’m bound fer my heavenly home,
When missis give Hannah to me,
Through heaven dis chile will roam.
Chorus.—Go away, Sam, you can’t come a-nigh me,
Gwine to meet my friens in hebben,
Hannah is gwine along;
Missis ses Hannah is mine,
So Hannah is gwine along.
Chorus, repeated.
Father Gabriel, blow your horn,
I’ll take wings and fly away,
Take Hannah up in the early morn,
An’ I’ll be in hebben by de break of day.
Chorus.—Go away, Sam, you can’t come a-nigh me,
Gwine to meet my friens in hebben,
Hannah is gwine along;
Missis ses Hannah is mine,
So Hannah is gwine along.