Saturday, July 11, 1914

Got a card from Irene yesterday. Last night we were down at Uncle George's. He got home Tuesday.

Mama and Cecil are up town getting Cecil a new suit. We did everything yesterday so I've nothing to do today. I got a piece, variations on Old Black Joe Wednesday. It came while I was out at Uncle Charlie's. I can play most of it now.

Old Black Joe by Stephen Foster

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,
Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away,
Gone from the earth to a better land I know,
I hear those gentle voices calling Old Black Joe.

Chorus:

I'm coming, I'm coming,

for my head is bending low,

I hear those gentle voices calling

Old Black Joe.

Why do I weep, when my heart should feel no pain,
Why do I sigh that my friends come not again?
Grieving for forms now departed long ago.
I hear those gentle voices calling Old Black Joe.

Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?
The children so dear that I held upon my knee?
Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go,
I hear those gentle voices calling Old Black Joe.