“De chillun ub Ephram fogot de works ub de Lawd, an’ his wonders, arfter he had rain down manner ’pon ’em to eat. Uncle Reubin say de manner wuz mushrooms. De reason ub de flood, is kase de chillun ub man fogot deah benefits. Dey wan’t satisfied wid creeks an’ ribbers, but dey mus’ provok’ uh flood. Is dar any pusson in dis chuch dat would fogit Miles Ribber? De Petracks would. Dunno though! Kase I reckin da wan’t no ribbers in dem days lubly as Miles Ribber. Kin I eber fogit her wha’ I wuz born? How it charm an’ conjur me when I goes fishin’, oysterin’ er crabbin’ in de mawnin’s, when de ribber is cam. Den de trees is ’flected in de watah an’ de heb’nly clouds meck rainbows in de watah. An’ dat Miles Ribber is so clare when de trees is ’flected in de mawnin’ befo’ de sun-up, you kin see de jewdraps on de leabes. An’ sometimes all day long when de breeze is sorf de sun plays on de ripples, an’ when de sun git tired an’ sink in de wes’ de moon plays on de watah sorter ridin’ de canterin’ wabes. An’ de hooppo-wills sing, an’ de mockin’ birds chant, an’ de wabes chases de moonlight, an’ de moonlight chases de wabes; an’ de stars way down deep in de watah winks an’ twinks at yer, an’ dey looks ez bright ez de eyes ub Phareoh’s daughter an’ almos’ ez sorf’ ez uh possum’s. It’s uh sin to play on de fiddle, flute an’ fife, an’ to dance, but, brudderin, it’s ’spirin’ an’ heb’nly to see de moon dance on Miles Ribber, spreadin’ hissef on de top ub de wabes, makin’ dem de color ub silver, jes’ like dear ole Missis hyah. “Yes! Pawson Demby born close to Miles Ribber, an’ he lubs de watah nex’ to music. I’d lub to hab bin on de ark; dey tells me mos’ everything wuz on it, so ’cose music wuz. An’ I wouldn’t be s’prised ef dat sweet little cullud boy, Ham, didn’t play de banjo, an’ Sham de bones, an’ ’cose de udder brudder (I fogit his name) played! I reckin de hyarp. Kase hyarps wuz in de fashin in dem days. Dear little Dabid used to play de hyarp at night when he watched his Pa’s flocks, to make hissef feel happy, an’ to skere de wolves an’ bars ’way. An’ he played fuh Saul er his daughter, I fogit which. Wonder how dey got deah hyarp an’ banjo strings dem days. Well, I kin almos’ see dat jus’ man, de captin ub de boat, arfter all de beases bin fed an’ bedded, set down in de stern ub de ship, take de rudder, lite his pipe, sigh fuh de watahs to cease an’ long fuh his dove to come back. An’ when de moon ris I specks Ham chune his banjo, Sham his bones, an’ de udder brudder wid a quare name, twank de hyarp. An’ den dey mus’ hab played, ‘Roll, Jordan, Roll,’ ‘One Bright Ribber to Cross,’ ‘Swing Lo’, Sweet Chariot,’ ‘Go Down Moses,’ till de stars sunk in de skies, and de beases got relarmed. “Brudderin, we ain’t sung dat lars him fuh uh long time. Uncle Eph, you rase it an’ we will sing some ub de vuses, so I kin res’ mehsef uh little.” GO DOWN MOSES.