e kid, mother and father, used to
gather around the piano every Sunday evening and sing 'em. Didn't
think much of them then, but liked to sing. But they mean a lot to me
over here, especially when I'm on guard at nights on this 'Dead Man's
Curve.' Seems like they make me stronger." As I walked away I still
heard him humming "Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me."

One of the most vivid song silhouettes that I remember is that of a
great crowd of negroes singing in a Y. M. C. A. hut. There must have
been a thousand of them. I was to speak to them on "Lincoln Day." I
remember how their white teeth shone through the semidarkness of that
candle-lighted hut, and how their eyes gleamed, and how their bodies
swayed as they sang the old plantation melodies.

The first song startled me with the universality of its simple
expression. It was an adaptation of that old melody which the negroes
have sung for years, "It's the Old-Time Religion."

A boy down front led the singing. A curt "Sam, set up a tune," from
the Tuskegee colored secretary started it.

This boy sat with his back to the audience. He didn't even turn around
to face them. Low and sweetly he started singing. You could hardly
hear him at first. Then a few boys near him took up the music. Then a
few more. Then it gradually swept back over that crowd of men until
every single negro was swaying to that simple music, and then it was
that I caught the almost startlingly appropriate words:

"It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
It is good for a world in trouble;
And it's good enough for me.

It's the old-time religion;
It's the old-time religion;
It's the old-time religion;
And it's good enough for me.

It was good for my old mother;
It was good for my old mother;
It was good for my old mother;
And it's good enough for me."

Then much to my astonishment they did something that I have since
learned is the very way that these songs grew from the beginning. They
extemporized a verse for the day, and they did it on the spot. I made
absolutely certain of that by careful investigation. They sang this
extra verse:

"It was good for ole Abe Lincoln;
It was good for ole Abe Lincoln;
It was good for ole Abe Lincoln;
And it's good enough for me."

"That first verse, 'It is good for a world in trouble,' is certainly a
most appropriate one for these times in France," I said aside to the