O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign:
O reign, reign, reign, er my Lord,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign.

But de Lord he 'lowed he wouldn't have it so,
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign;
So de rich mus' die jes' same as de po',
O reign, Marse Jesus, er reign."

This was one of the plantation hymns with which Mammy often used to
sing Tot to sleep, and all the children were familiar with the words and
air; so now they all joined in the singing, and very sweet music it was.
They had sung it through several times, and the puppies, finding
themselves so outdone in the matter of noise, had curled up in the
children's laps and were fast asleep, when Diddie interrupted the chorus
to ask:

"Dumps, what are you goin' ter name your doggie?"

"I b'lieve I'll name 'im 'Papa,'" replied Dumps, "because he give 'im
ter me."

"'Papa,' indeed!" said Diddie, contemptuously; "that's no name for a
dog; I'm goin' ter name mine after some great big somebody."

"Lord-ee! I tell yer, Miss Diddie; name 'im Marse Samson, atter de man
w'at Mammy wuz tellin' 'bout totin' off de gates," said Dilsey.