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LEARNING
TO READ
Very
soon the Yankee teachers
Came down and set up school;
But, oh! how the Rebs did hate it,p;p;
It was agin' their rule.
Our
masters always tried to hide
Book learning from our eyes;
Knowledge didn't agree with slaveryp;p;
'Twould make us all too wise.
But
some of us would try to steal
A little from the book,
And put the words together,
And learn by hook or crook.
I
remember Uncle Caldwell,
Who took pot liquor fat
And greased the pages of his book,
And hid it in his hat.
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And
had his master ever seen
The leaves upon his head,
He'd have thought them greasy papers,
But nothing to be read.
And
there was Mr. Turner's Ben,
Who heard the children spell,
And picked the words right up by heart,
And learned to read 'em well.
Well,
the Northern folks kept sending
The Yankee teachers down;
And they stood right up and helped us,
Though Rebs did sneer and frown.
And,
I longed to read my Bible,
For precious words it said;
But when I begun to learn it,
Folks just shook their heads,
And
said there is no use trying,
Oh! Chloe, you're too late;
But as I was rising sixty,
I had no time to wait.
So
I got a pair of glasses,
And straight to work I went,
And never stopped till I could read
The hymns and Testament.
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Then
I got a little cabin
A place to call my ownp;p;
And I felt as independent
As the queen upon her throne.
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