The speaker is a cook, an older woman, finishing her evening chores in a kitchen. Her favorite part of the day comes when an Irishman sits on a flour barrel and plays music and sings. They hardly talk, and she takes comfort in that easy company. The poem's subtitle points to American folksong, and the scene feels like a small, private song of its own.
Underneath the calm, there are hints of a harder past and a risky present. The speaker mentions the plantation, so her life seems to have been shaped by slavery, and she takes pride in what she kept from it: her cooking skill and her daughter, who now lives in the north and is learning to read. She insists the railroad men don't frighten her, yet she admits this is "the dangerous time of day." The mood is warm but watchful. The man's music is pleasant, but his real gift is quiet protection, ending with his reminder to bolt the door.