But here ninety-six per cent are toiling; no one with leisure to turn the bare and cheerless cabin into a home, no old folks to sit beside the fire and hand down traditions of the past; little of careless happy childhood and dreaming youth.
Contrasting the leisure available to many Americans, Du Bois laments the constant labor that prevents Black families from building homes, preserving traditions, or enjoying childhood.
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Our song, our toil, our cheer, and warning have been given to this nation in blood-brotherhood.
But whichever it is, the meaning is always clear: that sometime, somewhere, men will judge men by their souls and not by their skins.
If somewhere in this whirl and chaos of things there dwells Eternal Good, pitiful yet masterful, then anon in His good time America shall rend the Veil and the prisoned shall go free.