Uncle Reuben, ole en good,
Come ter town wid nice fat wood
Frum de san’ hills fur away—
’Mos’ eleben miles, dey say.
En he drive a ox so slow,
En a cart dat wobble so,
Dat it look lak dey gwine fall,
En ole Uncle gwine lose all,
By en by, by en by.
Uncle got dat wood dervide,
En in hones’ bundles tied,
En he holler ’cross de fence:
“Three big bunches fo’ ten cents!
Buy some, Missus, please, frum me,
Kaze I need de change, you see;
En I mus’ go down de street
Ter git me some meal en meat,
By en by, by en by.

Missus say she don’ want none;
What he brought befo’ ain’t gone;
En ole Uncle pass on by,
Still wid courage in his eye;
En he doan’ lose heart dat day,
But wid smilin’ face he say:
“I ain’t bin all ’roun’ de town—
I gwine sell it, I am boun’,
By en by, by en by.”
En he sell it all, fo’ true,
Ez he said dat he would do!
When at las’ he go down street,
He buy mo’ dan meal en meat,
Kaze he lak terbacco, too,
Well ez any nigger do;
En he say: “I’ll ’joy it, sho,
Ez erlong de road I go,
By en by, by en by.”
When he ’bout ter leave de town
Ez de sun am gwine down,
Us black niggers laugh en say:
“Bet you won’t git home ter-day
Wid dat ox, so ole en slow,
En dat cart dat wobble so!”
En he bow his head en say:
“I gwine git dar, anyway,
By en by, by en by.”
Uncle Reuben’s gittin’ ole—
He’s pas’ sixty, I’se bin tole;
En his han’ sho shake ter-day
In a weak en trimblin’ way;
En his ole legs wobbled too,
Lak de wheels ob his cart do,
Ez he say: “De en’ soon come,
Kaze de Lawd gwine call me home,
By en by, by en by.”