ever-moving circle that widened steadily, while the men sang louder, faster, bending their legs deeper, popping their palms together in deafening claps:
Dis is de year of Juba-lee!
Juba-lee, Oh, yes. Juba-lee—Juba-lee."
Doll gave her fretful baby to Maum Hannah to hold while she joined the shouters and her little stepson, Big Boy, came and stood beside Mary, holding to her skirt. Doll's feet beat the floor with stiff thuds. The fringed paper circles swayed and rustled overhead, the lamp flickered in its socket, the fire settled low in the chimney. Jubalee was done, and singers and shouters had to catch breath and wipe the sweat off their dripping faces.
"Better tell Doll not to stomp so hard. E's gwine kill eself if e don' mind," Andrew called out to Maum Hannah, loud enough for everybody to hear, but Maum Hannah smiled and shook her head. Andrew need not worry. Doll would not hurt herself. She was strong as an ox, and besides, God never lets a woman suffer from shouting His praises.
"Looka Lou," Maum Hannah said. "Lou
