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An old man was clinging in silent prayer to his son's knees and an old woman was clinging around his neck, and saying: "Praise God who nurver lies it's little Ephrum come home ag'in." Then they looked up and the old man raised his hands in a pitiful tumult of joy and fear and reverence as he said: "An' Marse Tom, so help me God a-ridin' John Paul Jones!" Man may breed up all animals but himself.
An' we'll nurver mo' sorrer an' nurver mo' roam Lead, dear Lord, lead on! An' we'll meet wid de lam's dat's gohn on befo' An' we lie in de shade ob de good shepherd's do', An' he'll wipe away all ob our tears as dey flow Lead, dear Lord, lead on! "Do you know that voice, Eph?" cried the man in front to his body servant.
"I nurver hit you a lick you didn't deserve, suh, I nurver had you whipped but once an' dat wus for stealin' a horg which you sed yo'se'f you stole. You ken do wid me es you please," he went on, "you am menny an' kin do it, an' I am ole an' weak. But ef you hes got enny soul, spare de po' ole 'oman who ain't nurver dun nothin' but kindness all her life.
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