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NEGRO FOLK-SONGS |
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The ol' a'k's A-Movm'
The ol' a'k's a-movin', A-movin' along, chillun, The ol' a'k's movin', A-movin' right along. Hebben's so high An' I 'm so low, Don't know whuther I'll git thar or no. The ol' a'k's a-movin', A-movin' along, chillun, The or a'k's a-movin', A-movin' right along.
In 1923, just after the publication of my novel, "In the Land of Cotton,5' which contains a number of Negro folk-songs, I went back to Texas on a visit and spent a part of my time in research after others. In Fort Worth, the choir leader of the Mount Gilead Baptist Church, and her husband, the director of the colored Y. M. C. A., called on me at Mayor CockrelPs home, to express appreciation of my interest in the folk-music of their race, and offered to put on a special service of spirituals in place of the sermon at their evening service. They asked me if I would speak on the religious aspects of folk-song, and announcement was made that white people were invited. Half the house was reserved for white visitors, and so great is the love for the beautiful old songs that every seat was taken. The musical service was a moving and impressive one, many of the fine old spirituals being sung by the well-trained choir. I spoke briefly of the dignity and value of Negro folk-song, and urged that efforts be made to preserve the old songs. I said in closing that there was only one request I had to make in connection with my funeral, which I hoped was some time in the future. I should not be at all satisfied unless some of my colored friends were there and sang, Swing Low, Sweet Chariot. As I sat down, the choir and congregation softly took up the strains:
Swing low, sweet chario-ot,
Comin' for to carry me home!
I felt for the moment as if I were attending my own obsequies, and wondered if the instant response were a hint that an early demise was desirable. When the song was over, an elderly man, a teacher in a Negro high school in another town, rose and said: "This is one of |
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