And so on, with repetitions that promised to be endless. The grateful negroes had cherished the memory of Dr. Fuller, who had abandoned his lucrative legal practice to preach to them; and, long after his departure to the North, had still kept his name green among them, by thus associating it with their ideas of heaven. But, as freedom came, and no Dr. Fuller with it, they gradually forgot the old benefactor, and substituted the name of the new one. To them, General Saxton was law, and order, and right; he secured their plantations; he got them rations till they were able to support themselves; he decided disputes, defended privileges, maintained quiet, and was the embodiment of justice; and so it gradually came to pass that “General Saxby,” as, with a ludicrous persistence, they still call him, took the place of “Ma-a-a-assa Fullah” in the song. The presence of the good Doctor recalled their old love, and they gave him the first place; but they could not depose their later favorite and greater benefactor; and so, after interminable repetitions, we came to the second stanza: “Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a sittin’ on de tree ob life, Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a sittin’ on de tree ob life; Roll, Jordan, roll. Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a sitiin’ on de tree ob life; Roll, Jordan, roll; Gen-e-ul Sa-a-axby a sittin’ on de tree ob life; Ro-o-oll, Jordan, roll, Ro-o-oll, Jordan, roll, Ro-o-oll, Jordan, ro-o-oll!” The patriarchal old African, swaying on his cane before the congregation, threw the whole power of his lungs into the harsh tones with which the concluding “ro-o-o-oll” was given, and then followed the great feat of the African reception to the visitors. Wherever we had been, the negroes seemed to know something of Mr. Chase. Their ideas were very vague, but they thought that, in some way, he was a great, large friend of theirs, who had done something or another for them, what, they scarcely knew, and was to be held beside “Linkum” in their esteem. So now, with a droll look of intelligence toward the crowd, and particularly toward a group of open-faced, enthusiastic young fellows, who seemed to be the main dependence for promptly supplying the volume of sound, the antique leader struck out in harsher tones, and more indescribably bewildering difficulties of pronunciation than ever: “Me-is-ta-ah Che-a-ase a sittin’ on de tree ob life, Me-is-ta-ah Che-a-ase a sittin’ on de tree ob life, Roll, Jordan, roll; Me-is-ta-ah Che-a-ase a sittin’ on de tree ob life, Roll, Jordan, roll. Me-is-ta-ah Che-a-ase a sittin’ on de tree ob life, Roll, Jordan, roll, Roll, Jordan, roll, Ro-o-oll, Jordan, ro-o-oll.”