"Oh, de rich man gamble, an' he fell," came in an indescribable
wail from some subterranean region. "Lisen," said Hoyt. "It's
Goliath singing. He's a bird, he is!" The hihn, mournful voice
went on with its unconscious commentary on the new-comer,
repeating the same workds, and then droppping into a cheerful,
not to say rolling, melody:

"Oh, de rich man gamble, an' he fell,
An' he want to go to heaben;
But he gotter go to hell,
Dere ain' no hiding place down dah.
Oh, I went fo' de rock, fo' to hid mah face,
But de rock cried out, No hidin' place."

The voice went on, as its owner came nearer, and the door opened to admit a wooly head, still singing,

"Dere ain't no hiding place,--"

The above text is from the short story "David and Goliath", by Ellis Meredith in The Black Cat, Volume 5, May 1900.

Read online here: https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Black_Cat/nD0oAAAAYAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22hiding+place+down%22&pg=RA7-PA19&printsec=frontcover