"Hit's er gittin' so late, honey," urged Mammy, "let 'um stay in de
box, an' go ter bed now, like good chil'en."
"I know I ain't, Mammy," replied Dumps. "You mus' think I ain't got no
feelin's ter go ter bed an' leave 'im hollerin'. I'm er goin' ter rock
'im ter sleep in my little rockin'-cheer, an' you needn't be er
fussin' at me nuther."
"I ain't er fussin' at yer, chile; I'm jes' 'visin' uv yer fur yer
good; caze hit's yer bed-time, an' dem puppies will likely holler all
night."
"Then we will sit up all night," said Diddie, in her determined way.
"I'm like Dumps; I'm not going to bed an' leave 'im cryin'."
So Mammy drew her shawl over her head and lay back in her chair for a
nap, while Diddie and Dumps took the little dogs in their arms and sat
before the fire rocking; and Chris and Dilsey and Riar all squatted on
the floor around the fender, very much interested in. the process of
getting the puppies quiet.
Presently Dumps began to sing:
"Ef'n 'ligion was er thing that money could buy,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign;
De rich would live, an' de po' would die,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign.
Chorus
O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign:
O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign.
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