O Jerusalem!" &c.

"Tittawisa" means "Sister Louisa." In songs of this class the name of
every person present successively appears.

Their best marching song, and one which was invaluable to lift their
feet along, as they expressed it, was the following. There was a kind of
spring and lilt to it, quite indescribable by words.

XXIV. GO IN THE WILDERNESS.

"Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness,
Go in de wilderness, go in de wilderness,
Jesus call you. Go in de wilderness
To wait upon de Lord.
Go wait upon de Lord,
Go wait upon de Lord,
Go wait upon de Lord, my God,
He take away de sins of de world.

"Jesus a-waitin'. Go in de wilderness,
Go, &c.
All dem chil'en go in de wilderness
To wait upon de Lord."

The next was one of those which I had heard in boyish days, brought
North from Charleston. But the chorus alone was identical; the words
were mainly different, and those here given are quaint enough.

XXV. BLOW YOUR TRUMPET, GABRIEL.

"O, blow your trumpet, Gabriel,
Blow your trumpet louder;
And I want dat trumpet to blow me home
To my new Jerusalem.

"De prettiest ting dat ever I done
Was to serve de Lord when I was young.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c.

"O, Satan is a liar, and he conjure too,
And if you don't mind, he'll conjure you.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel, &c.

"O, I was lost in de wilderness.
King Jesus hand me de candle down.
So blow your trumpet, Gabriel," &c.

The following contains one of those odd transformations of proper names
with which their Scriptural citations were often enriched. It rivals
their text, "Paul may plant, and may polish wid water," which I have
elsewhere quoted, and in which the sainted Apollos would hardly have
recognized himself.

XXVI. IN THE MORNING.

"In de mornin',
In de mornin',
Chil'en? Yes, my Lord!
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
If I had a-died when I was young,
I never would had de race for run.
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

"O Sam and Peter was fishin' in de sea,
And dey drop de net and follow my Lord.
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?

"Dere's a silver spade for to dig my grave
And a golden chain for to let me down.
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?
In de mornin', In de mornin',
Chil'en? Yes, my Lord!
Don't you hear de trumpet sound?"

These golden and silver fancies remind one of the King of Spain's
daughter i