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Bran' New Monologues, and Readings in Prose and Verse
Walter Ben Hare
Boston: W. H. Baker & Co., 1921

"Uncle Tom's Cabin" at the Op'ry House

A SONG-MONOLOGUE

  (This selection may be given by male or female. Special costuming is not necessary, but it adds to the effect. The words are to be sung in a rather rapid tempo, but slow enough for the audience to comprehend the points of the last lines of each stanza, technically known as "punch" lines. Play no interlude between the stanzas, but run them all together without a pause. The performer may act as her own accompanist in this number.

  

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  NOTE: These verses are the sole property of Walter Ben Hare, and are inserted in this book for the sole use of amateur readers. This selection is protected by copyright and may not be used on the vaudeville stage or on Chautauqua circuits without a signed permit from the author. Violation of this warning will be severely dealt with by the law.)

Way last spring, I think in April,
A show troup landed in our town;
They gave an op'ry called Uncle Tom's Cabin,
'Twas better than a cirkis with a ring-tail clown.

A coal-black colored man lived in a cabin,
With his wife and children, all snug and nice,
When along came a pesky oversee-er
And chased Elizy acrost the ice.

Settin' on the bank was a great big bloodhound,
Lizy kicked him outa the way
I thought right there there was goin' to be a murder;
But the gosh-dinged critter was stuffed with hay.

Next scene out came little Evey
And old Uncle Tom with a wreath on his head;
I knowed right away that the child wasn't healthy,
So I wasn't surprised when she dropped down dead.

Curtain came down; I was feelin' mighty sorry
Fer the little dead gal with her curls and her smile
Bunkoed ag'in, by Gosh! There I saw her,
A-sellin' her photygraphs down the aisle.

A feller named Marks was an all-fired cut-up,
Allers a-gittin' into someone's way;
He got in a fight with a broadbrim Quaker,
Who shot him in the fracas at the break of day.

In came an old maid, Miss Ophelia;
Started to raise an awful fuss
At a black pickaninny whose name was Topsy;
I nearly died a-laffin' at the funny little cuss.

They sold Uncle Tom at an old-hoss auction
To a red-nosed critter named Sime Legree;
He raved and he stamped and he cussed, by thunder!
I was mighty durn glad that he didn't own me.

Last act of all was real pathetic,
He beat Uncle Tom with a big black snake;
They pulled little Evey up to Heaven,
But the dog-gawn rope it had to break.

She fell with a flop clean off the platform,
Lit in the middle of the big bass drum;
They pulled down the curtain and the show was over,
And me and mother went back hum.