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with Mammy Judie that she let the child sleep all night on the cold hearth. She would not put her to bed or give her any covering. But Mammy Judie stayed by her young master's body.
Fear of being left behind is more openly expressed in a train song from McClellanville, South Carolina, sent me by Lucy Pinckney Rutledge.
Keep Yore Hand upon the Chariot
Oh, you better run, oh, you better run, Oh, you better run, 'fore the train done gone! Oh, keep yore hand upon the chariot, An* yore eyes upon the prize.
For the preacher's comin' an' he preach so bold, For he preach salvation from out of his soul. Oh, keep yore hand upon the chariot An' yore eyes upon the prize!
Miss Rutledge, who sends me the words for various songs, says: "The true pathos and weird beauty he in the music — and how I wish I might be fortunate enough to be transported to you to-night and sing them every one to you! In the glad days of the long ago, my two brothers, my sister, and I used to constitute a quartette that gave much pleasure to the listeners as well as ourselves. Tonight, as I write, across the stillness of the quiet village I can hear sweet and haunting strains from a colored church where a convention is held, and I wish you were here to share the real delight with me."
Another song from the same contributor describes a crowd of people left behind, in the last stanza, when the train has really gone:
Reborn, soldier, going to reborn again,
Oh, going to reborn again! Reborn soldier, going to reborn again,
Oh, going to reborn again!
Chorus Reborn again, reborn again,
Oh, you can't get to heaven till you're reborn again! Oh, going to reborn again! Oh, you can't get to heaven till you're reborn again!
Paul and Silas, dar in de jail; Oh, going to reborn again!