"Yassah--I manage ter git 'long, sah."
Julius took up his banjo and began to tune it for an accompaniment to
his songs. He had a mellow rhythmical voice that always brought the
crowd. He began with his favorite that never failed to please his
master. The way he rolled his eyes and sang with his hands and feet and
every muscle of his body was the source of unending interest to his
Northern audience.
He ran his fingers lightly over the strings and the men threw down their
dirty packs of cards and crowded around John's tent. Julius only sang
one line at a time and picked his banjo between them to a low wailing
sound of his own invention:
"O! far' you well, my Mary Ann;
Far' you well, my dear!
I've no one left to love me now
And little do I care----"
He paused between the stanzas and picked his banjo to a few prose
interpolations of his own.
"Dat's what I'm a tellin' ye now, folks--little do I care!"
He knew his master had been crossed in love and he rolled his eyes and
nodded his woolly head in triumphant approval. John smiled wanly as he
drifted slowly into his next stanza.
"An' ef I had a scoldin' wife
I'd whip her sho's yer born,
I'd take her down to New Orleans
An' trade her off fer corn----"
Julius stopped with a sudden snap and whispered to John:
"Lordy, sah, I clean fergit 'bout dat meetin' at de cullud folks'
church, sah, dat dey start up.
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