A Day to Pick Your Own Cotton - Michael R. Phillips [63]
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, gonna pick all over this field.
“Hurry up, hurry up, children, we ought to have been gone.
The weather looks so cloudy, and I think it’s goin’ to storm.
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad,
Cotton needs a-pickin’ so bad, gonna pick all over this field.”
“That was so beautiful!” said Katie. “How did you learn to sing like that, Emma?”
“I din’t learn it no place, Miz Katie. It jes’ comes outta me, dat’s all.”
“Well, it’s just about the prettiest music I ever heard.
The two of you sounded like a choir, didn’t they, Aleta? It makes me feel almost like I was out in the fields picking cotton myself.”
“Be glad you’re not,” I said. “It ain’t fun at all.”
“Can we sing another one?” Aleta asked.
Katie turned the pages of her songbook. Here’s a good one—do you know it?”
“She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.
She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.
She’ll be coming round the mountain, she’ll be coming
round the mountain, she’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes.”
“Let’s do it again,” said Katie. “This time you both sing with me.”
She started playing and we repeated it twice more.
“Now it’s our turn again, Mayme,” said Katie.
I stopped to think a minute.
“All right, here’s one,” I said.
“Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to fly away.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
So the devil can’t do me no harm.”
“That part’s the chorus,” I said.
“I know it … I know it, Miz Mayme!” exclaimed Emma.
“Good, then you help me teach Miss Katie and Aleta.—Now here comes the verse, so everyone’s gotta help.”
“My Lord, did he come at the break of day?”
I sang and Emma joined in with me.
“Now you shout, ‘No!’—I’ll sing my part again—”
“My Lord, did he come at the break of day?”
Katie and Aleta shouted, “No!”
“My Lord, did he come in the heat of noon?—No!
My Lord, did he come in the cool of the evening?”
“Now the answer’s yes!” I said.
We all shouted “Yes!”
And as we came to the last line, I quieted way down so that Emma could sing it herself.
“And he washed my sins away!”
“Let’s do it again!” said Aleta, laughing. “Please … can we do it again!”
“Wait … sing a little again, Mayme, Emma,” said Katie. “Let me see if I can find the tune on the piano.”
After a few minutes of experimenting, Katie was playing the whole song, but in what she called a different key, which made it so that I had to sing it a little higher than before. I had a pretty low voice compared to either Emma’s or Katie’s, so when I sang the words “two wings,” it was about as high as my voice would reach. But with Emma’s voice along with me, it was just right. Then we all sang it together.
“Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to fly away.
Oh, Lord, I want … two wings to veil my face.
So the devil can’t do me no harm.
My Lord, did He come at the break of day?—No!
My Lord, did He come in the heat of noon?—No!
My Lord, did He come in the cool of the evening?—Yes!
And He washed my sins away!”
With Katie playing along on the piano and with two white voices and my low black girl’s voice and Emma again singing harmony, it was just as pretty-sounding as you could imagine!
“Can we do the minuet again?” I asked Katie when we finished. “I really liked that last time.”
“Yes, and we’ll teach it to you, Aleta.”
“What’s a minuet?” she asked.
“A French dance,” said Katie.
She played it through once, then got up from the piano.
“Now watch, Aleta, Emma,” she said. “We will show you how it goes.—Do you remember it, Mayme?”
“Not all of it.”
“Emma, why don’t you set William down on the couch where he’ll be safe? Then you join us.”
“Yes’m, Miz Katie.”
We all took hands and Katie led like before. Pretty soon I was remembering how it went, and we danced all around the room like we were a French prince and princess or something, though I don’t know which one of us was which!
“Come, Aleta,” said Katie, taking Aleta’s two