OLD 
 PLANTATION 
 
HBBHHHWfflWBI^^BHBHHHHWHi 
 
 A 
 
 COL. GEORGE WASHINGTON FLOWERS 
 MEMORIAL COLLECTION 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 DURHAM, N. C. 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 W. W. FLOWERS 
 
Old Plantation Days 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/oldplantationday01giel 
 
Old 
 
 Plantation Days 
 
 MARTHA S. GIELOW 
 
 Author of 
 " Mammy's Reminiscences/' 
 etc., etc. 
 
 R. H. RUSSELL 
 
 1902 
 
Copyright, 1908, by Robert Howard Russell 
 
 First Impression, October, 1902 
 
9 7 <o, I 0% 3 
 
 To the Memory op 
 
 IFAostf no&Ztf life was my guide and whose 
 loving pride in me was my inspiration, I 
 inscribe these simple stories of the "Mammy" 
 who laid me first within those precious arms 
 that never tired, against the faithful heart 
 that never wearied in its devotion. 
 
 Martha S. Gielow. 
 
 "44978 
 
Contents 
 
 Page 
 
 Mammy Speaks ix 
 
 Mammy Joe and the Old Home . . . . 13 
 
 Lookin' fer Marse Willie 29 
 
 Dat Chile 47 
 
 Uncle Tom's Matrimonial Difficulties . . . 59 
 
 Ole Bline Hannah 69 
 
 Plantation Sermon 83 
 
 A Brief Sketch of Mammy Joe and her Ac- 
 count of the Sinking of the Merrimac . 93 
 
 Mammy Tilly's Visit to the City . . . .101 
 
 Aunt Roxy Ann, an' de Apple-Tree . . .111 
 
 How Sis 1 Mandy an 1 her Dog Pinchey got 
 
 'Ligion 119 
 
 Mammy's Receipt for Making Alabama Velvets 127 
 
 Go ter Sleep on Mammy's Bre's' . . . .131 
 
 [ ™ ] 
 
 244975 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 Mammy's Luck Charm fer de Bride . . .135 
 Mammy's Receipt fer Aig- Braid . . . .139 
 
 De Chris'mus Baby 145 
 
 Little Sweet Ladie 147 
 
 On my Journey Home 153 
 
 Come Ring dem Charmin' Bells . . . .159 
 Wheel in de Middle o' de Wheel .... 163 
 
 Plantation Funeral Song 167 
 
 Oh, Lawd, Am' dem Lobely 171 
 
 Oh, Ma'y, don' you Weep 175 
 
 Note by the Author 179 
 
 [ viii ] 
 
Mammy Speaks 
 
 " ~1 ^ F de Lawd takes keer uv eben de li'l teeny, 
 weeny sparrers, honey, den we-all what 
 
 * * is created in His 'zac' hkeness shouldn' 
 'spute de jestice uv His laws. De Lawd He wucks 
 in myster'ous ways. 
 
 " When I sets hyar an' looks out upon de 
 changes, hit seem all wrong — an' sometimes hit 
 seem lak de Marster done fergit us all — an' mos' 
 pertic'lar dem what is ole an' no 'count — what ain' 
 got nobody 'sponsible fer 'um dese days. But den, 
 dat's des de debble er temptin' uv me. I knows dat 
 He do keer. Yas, chile, He's boun' ter keer. Don' 
 you s'posen dat yo' ole Mammy is des as much o' 
 'count ter de Lawd as dem li'l no 'count snowbirds, 
 an' dat ole raid-haided woodpecker out dar on de 
 tree, an' dem ole cawin' crows what's eatin' up de 
 corn? Ob co'se I is! Ef He keers fer dem, He 
 sho' gwine keer fer me. De Lawd never fersakes 
 dem what's got f aif . 
 
 " Sometimes, honey, de debble he whispers ter 
 me, an' says : 4 Sis' Joanna, f aif is fer dem what's 
 got all dey wants ; f aif ain' gwine fill you wid vid- 
 dles when you is hongry, ef you sets hyar an' waits 
 [ix] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 fer it; you got to go fetch it, an' if you ain' able 
 ter fetch it, you ain' gwine git it.' Den I ses ter 
 de whisper : 4 Go way f 'urn hyar, Mister Satan. 
 Br'er Lija' had faif an' de ravens brunged him 
 food, an' dem chillun gwine fetch me some'n 'fo' 
 long; dey, de ravens what God gwine sen' me, an' 
 sho' nuff, hyar you is wid er baskit full er de fat 
 uv de lan'. You is er snow-white raven, honey ; de 
 ve'y bird uv Parydise, an' you gwine hab sho' nuff 
 gole wings when you die an' er sho' nuff gole hyarp 
 ter play on an' sho' nuff gole slippers an' er sho' 
 nuff gole crown fer ter wear. I done seed all dat 
 de day you wuz borned. I done felt de sperits all 
 roun' me when I fus' helt you up fer yo' Ma ter 
 look at you. 
 
 " Lawd ! Lawd ! but it do seem lak 'twuz only 
 yisterday when I hyard de bell ring in de middle uv 
 de night fer me ter come to de house ter yo' Ma. 
 De moon wuz des gwine down when I git ter de do' 
 an' seed Br'er Jim gallup off fer de doctor lak de 
 worl' wuz 'bout ter come to er een. Sich er night 
 I never wan' ter see ergin. Yo' Pa look lak he 
 mos' 'stracted, an' we all wuz. But than' God, des 
 erbout sun-up, I hyard you cry fer de fus' time — 
 de ve'y fus' baby cry in de fam'ly. Hit soun' 
 sweeter dan de soun' uv music. Lawd, chile, how 
 
r 
 
 Mammy Joe 
 
MAMMY SPEAKS 
 
 proud we all wuz, an' you weighed mighty nigh ten 
 pounds, dat you did! You didn' look it; but 
 honey, you hollered lak you wuz as big an' weigh' 
 as much as er bale er cotton. Yo' Pa wuz too proud 
 ter hoi' in when he hyard you. He looked at you 
 an' say : 4 Dat baby's got er fine pair er lungs,' he 
 say; 4 she gwine have er good th'oat fer singinV 
 De doctor, he say, 4 Yas, I think so, an' you gwine 
 fine 'er putty lively comp'ny.' Yo' Ma axed me 
 ve'y easy ef I didn' reckon you had de colic. 
 4 Law, no'm,' I say ; 4 dey ain' nuffin 'tall de matter 
 wid dis baby, but dat she wan' some'n ter eat. She 
 done tired out wid gettin' hyar.' 
 
 " I never will f ergit de smile dat lighted up her 
 face. Hit looked ter me lak es ef somebody had 
 suddenly turned on er light 'bove 'er haid. I laid 
 you in her arms whiles I fixed you er li'l spec uv 
 catnip tea ter begin on. I wan' gwine give you no 
 sugar rag; I don't b'lieve in sugar rags fer babies 
 ter dis day. An' den, honey, you wuz sweet 
 ernufF — dat you wuz — an' you's growed sweeter 
 all de time. You 'minds me uv dem li'l yaller jes- 
 mine buds. Dey mighty dainty when dey fus' 
 come, but when dey bus' inter full bloom, de whole 
 woods is filled wid sweetness. 
 
 " What you say? Ter be sho', you kin res' yo' 
 [xi] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 haid in my lap. Is you tired, baby? Well, hit do 
 seem lak you wuz er chile ergin, settin' hyar in my 
 ole cabin, right on de ve'y stool what you usen ter 
 play wid, an' er feelin' yo' li'l haid so close ter my 
 arm. Le' me tech my ole fingers onct mo' ter de 
 curls uv yo' hair. H — m, how fine an' silky hit do 
 feel. But de gole dus' what I usen ter say dat de 
 angels sprinkled on it is done turned ter brown, an' 
 some day hit's gwine ter turn ergin ter silver. Den 
 you gwine be ole lak me. Den de Lawd gwine sen' 
 er dove fer to keer fer his li'l bird uv Parydise what 
 brings de good things lak de ravens ter ole Mammy. 
 Yas, res' yo' li'l haid on my lap, an' I gwine tell 
 you 'bout de ole times befo' de war." 
 
 [xii] 
 
II I ■HIH TTTWT ' mmMM— —■ M^^M^— VIA 
 
 Mammy Joe and the Old 
 Home 
 
Old Plantation 
 
 Days 
 
 Mammy Joe and the Old Home 
 
 THOSE who have never known a Mammy 
 can have but little conception of the love 
 that existed between that dear, black fos- 
 ter-parent and " dem chillun what she's done 
 raised." Nor can they realize the charm of list- 
 ening to the tales of the past related by these dear 
 old chroniclers of the Old South. 
 
 As time vanishes, the hazy distance will cast a 
 misty but glorious halo over those old plantation 
 days that are no more. We will have no more 
 Mammies to nurse and care for us, and to tell us of 
 the " gre't house," and the wonderful doings of 
 our home-loving ancestors. We will hear no more 
 the tender crooning of the simple lullabies that 
 charmed us to rest ; and the quaint dialect of those 
 days, with its soft, mellow pathos, will be a thing 
 of the past. 
 
 In one of the comfortless cabins of the present 
 conditions, where the necessaries of life are brought 
 [15] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 in by the daily toil of withered hands, lives one of 
 the old nurses who are passing. 
 
 Mammy Joe has always lived in a cabin, but not 1 
 such a one as she occupies to-day. There was a 
 day, she will tell you, when " me an' Mistis trabelled 
 all ober de lan', an' my cabin was es fine es a 
 lady's ;" and as she sits and talks of the old times, 
 her eyes grow misty, and her withered hands clutch 
 nervously at her apron hem. 
 
 " Mistis never would have 'lowed me ter live lak 
 dis, Miss Ferginia," she would say ; " an' de chillun 
 an' de gran'chillun would keer fer me now ef dey 
 could ; dey does he'p me all dey kin, but it ain' lak 
 it wuz in de ole times. 
 
 " No doctor's bills ter pay den, no rent fer de 
 cabin an' fer de patch fer my garden. I never 
 was hongry an' never wanted clo'es to w'ar, an' I 
 had fire ter set by when 'twas cole, widout havin' 
 ter pay fer 'um all. 
 
 " An' now ter see de White House lived in by 
 strangers f 'um de hills ! De home what my Mistis 
 owned, wid piles uv niggers ter keer fer 'er — hit 
 seem all wrong. Dem new sort uv white folks ain' 
 got no biz'ness in Mistis' house. Dey don' seem 
 nach'al to be dar." 
 
 Mammy looks far across the cotton field, down 
 
 [16] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 the avenue of walnut-trees to where the large grove 
 of handsome oaks surrounds the old place, as she 
 pauses. The tall pillars supporting the front gal- 
 lery meet her gaze like faithful sentinels. They 
 are yellowed with time and neglect, but are partly 
 mantled by the kindly ivy, whose untrimmed ten- 
 drils have formed a covering for the decaying 
 home. 
 
 The " White House " fronts the public highway 
 or road which divides the plantation. On the side 
 of the road, next to the house and grove, the fence 
 is bordered by a row of fine walnut-trees. Across 
 the road a long row of fig-trees forms a border to 
 the vast fields spread out before you. The field 
 gate is directly opposite the lawn gate, or 44 big 
 gate " as it is called, which opens into the grove 
 and leads to the mansion. 
 
 Going into the field-gate, the wagon road is bor- 
 dered each side with a row of fine peach-trees. This 
 avenue extends to the far end of the plantation, or 
 rather to the 44 big cedar." The 44 big cedar " is 
 famous for its size, and stands at the beginning of 
 the woodland. Curving off from the big cedar, 
 under whose shady boughs many a picnic has been 
 held, a lovely sweep of pine-trees runs along the 
 side of the plantation, and just where the pine 
 [17] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 forest ends, near the public road, stands a lonely 
 log cabin. 
 
 In this desolate home, where the sighing of the 
 pines is ever heard, lives Mammy. In the early 
 morning she may be seen emerging from the rickety 
 door of her house. She goes to the little garden 
 at the back of the cabin and gathers a few sprouts 
 from the monstrous collard-stalks, which seem to 
 have a wonderful vitality for putting out new 
 leaves on their gaunt and twisted necks, and, like 
 the cruse of oil, furnish a continuous supply of 
 food for the old negress year in and year out. 
 Mammy Joe takes her sprouts to the well, lets 
 down the bucket and draws up the fresh cool water. 
 She washes the " greens " in a leaky tin pan, takes 
 them into the cabin and puts them on to " b'ile " in 
 a pot swinging from a crane in the chimney. The 
 chimney is usually propped up on the outside by a 
 fence rail. Sometimes Mammy puts a piece of 
 meat on with the " greens," but generally she puts 
 none. On a low bed in the cabin lies an invalid 
 daughter. Two grandsons, whose mother is dead, 
 also live with her. Having put the " pot on ter 
 b'ile wid de greens," and having attended the ash- 
 hopper, where lye is dripping to make soap, and 
 having fed the few chickens in her coop, Mammy 
 [18] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 sits down to await the cooking of the greens. Her 
 cabin faces the old home. She sits and looks 
 through the door across the field, over the fig-trees, 
 through the walnut hedge to where " de house 99 can 
 be seen nestled under the oaks. The changed con- 
 ditions have been almost as hard on the old nurse 
 as on the mistress whom she had laid to rest with 
 her own devoted hands. Though desperately poor, 
 Mammy Joe is as proud as any colonial dame. She 
 would scorn to beg, and if she were starving she 
 would not admit that she was hungry. The dig- 
 nity of her white folks must be upheld. Indeed, 
 this family pride of these old mammies, — their 
 devotion to the memory of the old times is the 
 great charm which lingers around them like the 
 scent of dead roses. The feeling of this invisible 
 presence of buried sweetness wraps one around like 
 the fragrance of a dream as one listens to the tales 
 of the past and hears the plaintive echoes of those 
 old times, so full of romance, so picturesque, so 
 dear. While thus waiting for her " greens ter 
 b'ile," Mammy is at her best when you want her to 
 talk of the olden times. The sound of her voice 
 comes to me like a far-off strain of music. I hear 
 her say again with a soft, low tenderness, as one 
 would speak while talking of the dead : 
 
 [19] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 " Yas, chile, dem wuz days, dem wuz, when Mis- 
 tis lived, an' I neber 'spec's to see de like ergin." 
 And then I hear her say again, so apologetically, 
 " Why didn' you sen' me word you wuz comin', 
 honey? I'd er had some uv de bes' fried chicken 
 you eber seed, an' now I ain' got er thing fitten ter 
 han' you. Ne'r mine, I gwine make Jake an' Isum 
 ketch dat yaller-laig domenick what's done got 
 out en de coop an' run down in de pines, an' I 
 gwine fatten 'er twell she kain' stan' up, an' de ve'y 
 nex' time you come, I gwine fry 'er. Jake! You 
 an' Isum go run down in de woods an' see ef you 
 can' fine some yaller jasmine fer Miss Ferginia, an' 
 some uv dem heart-leaves she usen ter be huntin* 
 fe-r all de time. Honey, does you still love de woods 
 an' de wile flowers? Hit seem lak yisterday when 
 I usen ter see you wid yo' arms full uv honeysuckle 
 an' makin' b'lieve you wuz er fai'y princess. I 
 hates ter look over at de house dese days. Hit 
 sets me thinkin' 'bout de ole times what you don' 
 even 'member. Don' look at my house, Miss Fer- 
 ginia, kase it ain' fitten ter ax a lady in, but hit 
 wan' always dat way 'fo' my eyes give out. When 
 I c'd see, I c'd keep eve'ything in order, an' in dem 
 days de cabin what I lived in was fitten fer any 
 lady ter come inter. But now, I mos' 'shamed ter 
 [20] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 stay in it myse'f. Ole Miss wouldn' have 'lowed 
 me ter live lak dis. But den, she's done daid an' 
 gone, an' I 'spec's ter j'ine her 'fo' ve'y long. 
 
 " No'm, when Mistis lived, de cabin what I usen 
 ter occipy wuz stan'in' right under dat oak you 
 see over yander near de house. Le' me p'int hit out 
 ter you. Kin you see thoo' de grove, honey, ter de 
 right side uv de house? Well, look right dis way. 
 Yassum, dat's hit — dat big white oak. Dat's whar 
 I usen to lib, an' de chinkin' in de logs wa'n' done 
 wid ole rags nurr. Lawd, chile ! many is de time 
 I is rocked Mistis' gran'chillun ter sleep in dat 
 cabin. But hit's been to' down too long ter talk 
 erbout. Now I libs over hyar in de woods. Yassum, 
 de fam'ly is all done moved erway now, but de chil- 
 lun he'ps me all dey kin. But it ain' lak it wuz in 
 de ole times. Dem white folks what I done tell 
 you erbout, ain' got de raisin' uv our white folks. 
 Dey is er dhTun' kine uv peoples. Why, honey, 
 one day I went ober ter de house ter take 
 some sof soap ter 'change fer er spec uv sugar, 
 an' dey wuz settin' at de table an re'chin' ercross 
 ter he'p deyse'fs ter de dinner. Dey don' know 
 how ter eat offen mahog'ny tables no better dan 
 my Isum an' Jake. An' de 'hog'ny baids is all 
 scratched up, an' eve'y book in de bookcase is 
 [21] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 upside down ! " I hear her laugh again, as she 
 continues : " I knows it kase I dus' dem books too 
 many times, an' Mistis is showed me de top sides. 
 An', honey, dem white folks is done to' down de 
 kitchen what usen ter stan' in de yard, 'way off 
 f 'um de house ; an' done put up er shed-room right 
 on de een uv de piazzy fer ter cook in. Yassum, 
 dey is ! An', chile, dey done turnt de pantry inter 
 er sto'-room, an' keeps flour an' sugar in paper bags 
 — 'f o' Gawd, dey does ! An' de big sto'-room, — dat 
 big brick house you know whar we always usen ter 
 keep hogsheads uv sugar an' hogsheads uv mer- 
 lasses — dey is turnt inter er dry goods sto', an' de 
 smoke house whar we usen ter have two hundred 
 hams hangin' at er time an' bar'ls uv cracklin's 
 an' bar'ls uv spare-ribs an' bar'ls uv pickled beef 
 salted down, dey is done turnt inter er corn 
 crib! 
 
 " Yassum, honey, dat dey is — an' de corn cribs 
 is been to' down, an' all de ole cabins is been burnt 
 up an' de fence to' down, an' nuffin' lef but de big 
 gate pos's. Lawd, chile, I can' hardly stan' it, an' 
 when I sets hyar lookin' ober dar, I thinks erbout 
 de times befo' de war when de quarters looked lak 
 er city, an' when de plantation was lak er hive uv 
 bees, wid de han's at wuck. I can see ole Mistis 
 [22] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 right now, walkin' erlong lak er queen, froo de 
 quarters whar we all fairly worshipped her. An' 
 I kin hyar 'er say right now, ' How you feel, Uncle 
 Billy? ' An' I kin hyar Uric' Billy say, ' Des tol- 
 er'ble, Mistis, thank Gawd! I thinks I c'd feel 
 better ef it wan' f er de miz'ry in my back.' 6 Well, 
 I will sen' you a plarster,' says Mistis, an' den she 
 says ter me, s Joanner, be sho' dat Uncle Billy gits 
 er plarster fer his back.' An' den she stops at Sis' 
 Betsy's cabin, an' I hyar 'er say, s Good-mornin', 
 Aunt Betsy, how is yo' rheumatiz terday? ' 6 Gawd 
 be praised, I feels 'bout de same, thanky, Mistis; 
 dat bitters seem ter do me good,' say Aunt Betsy. 
 ' Well, I'll sen' you some mo',' Mistis say. An' den 
 Unc' Big-Jim would be sho' ter say, 6 Good-day, 
 Mistis, I feels lak er dram would set me up, please 
 ma'am,' an' Miss would larf an' say, 6 Ve'y well, 
 Uncle Jim, jes' come ter de house an' Joanner shell 
 mix you er nice toddy.' Lawd, honey ! Fifty little 
 niggers would be foll'in' Mistis; an' de big basket 
 uv biskits an' sugar cakes what I toted would be 
 emptied in no time. Wish I had some uv 'um right 
 now an' er tas'e uv dat toddy an' one uv dem plars- 
 ters fer my back. Dat I do. 
 
 " Honey, does you ubsurb dem two gate pos's in 
 front uv de house? Well, chile, in dem days befo' 
 [ 23 ] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 de war, de ca'iages what come thoo' dat gate wuz 
 er sight ter see. 
 
 " You knows Wash Crawford ? Well, he wuz 
 one uv de out-lookers — he usen ter set on de top uv 
 de pos' tow'ds de Greensboro' side, an' Larfett, he 
 usen ter set on de pos' tow'ds de ribber side. Den 
 Merc'ry an' Cupid dey wuz de runners. Ef Wash 
 seed de dust risin' in de road tow'ds de town side, 
 he give de word ter de runners, an' while Cupe 
 th'owed open de gate, Merc'ry he runned ter de 
 house ter noterfy ole Miss, an' bless yo' soul, befo' 
 de ca'iage 'rived at de gate, Br'er Tom would hab 
 de cake an' wine out on de sideboard an' Mistis w'd 
 be stan'in on de gall'ry whar you see all dem vines, 
 waitin' fer ter welcome de gues's. How we did fly 
 'roun' ! Ooommmmm ! ! 
 
 " Br'er Emp'rer he'd see dat de horses wuz wa- 
 tered an' fed, an' Sis' Ann, she 'tended ter de feedin' 
 uv de servants. Sometimes hit wuz de Bishop an' 
 sometimes hit wuz ladies an' gent'muns all de way 
 f'um Mon'gomery, an' sometimes hit wuz jes' de 
 j edges an' lawyers gwine f'um Greensboro ter 
 Eutaw ter 'ten' court. But no matter, eve'ybody 
 knowed eve'ybody in dem days, befo' de peoples 
 git so p'omiscus. 
 
 " Now, ef de dus' riz on de ribber side, den 
 [24] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 Larfett lie gib de 'larm, an' de runners opened de 
 gates an' tuck de news ter de house es fas' es dey 
 c'd run. Den we knowed hit wuz comp'ny f'um 
 Eutaw or f'um Mobile, an' 'specially ef we hyard 
 de steamboat blow. Sometimes dey des' takes rer- 
 freshmen's an' den go on, but mos' giner'lly dey 
 stayed er week an' sometimes er mont'. Sich 
 dancin' an' frolickin' you neber seed, an' horse- 
 back ridin' an' drivin' in de ca'iages, an' chest- 
 nut huntin', getherin' wile flowers an' grasses, 
 o-o-o-m-m-m ! ! 
 
 " Miss Fanny usen ter play de harp an' sing — 
 dat gre't big harp, honey, what Mistis had sont 
 f'um France in Parus. I wuz er young gal in dem 
 days an' I usen ter he'p rub de silber, an' whip de 
 cream fer de cillybub, an' I usen ter he'p keep de 
 flies off en de table too. No common nigger, honey, 
 kin bresh de table wid de peacock tail; it ain' in 
 'urn, an' I wuz mighty proud when Mistis le' me 
 stan' behine 'er an' wave dat bresh. 
 
 " In dem days de stage coach usen ter come 
 along wid fo' horses an' blow de horn whenever 
 dey stop ter let off passengers. Chile, hit wuz er 
 sight ter see de niggers run when dat horn blowed. 
 You'd er thought hit was Gab'el, it blowed so loud, 
 an' brought de people out lak de summons done 
 [25] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 come. But our comp'ny neber corned on de stage 
 coach — dat is, ve'y seldom. But Chris'mus was de 
 time fer real joy an' happiness in dem days ! Sich 
 loads uv good things you neber seed in yo' life. 
 De fam'ly usen ter come down ter de quarters ter 
 see de breakdown ; an' Jerrymiah an' Josephus w'd 
 cut de pigeon wing. De younger set lak Wash 
 an' Larfett an' Cupe an' Merc'ry w'd dress up an' 
 sing an' dance 4 John Cooner ;' an' Ike an' 'Rastus 
 drawed de fiddle. Mos' gin'rally one uv de young 
 gals would git ma'ied on Chris'mus night, an' dat 
 w'd make er bigger time dan eber. Aig-nog an' 
 hot punch wuz free es water, an' de roas' hawg an' 
 cracklin' braid wuz es superfine es de tuckey an' de 
 chicken. But " de house " wuz de place on Chris'- 
 mus — all dec'rated wid evergreens f'um de swamp ; 
 an' de ladies did look so smart when dey come down 
 de stair steps an' ranged deyse'fs in de drawin' 
 room fer ter dance de Kerchy Cotillyum. An' de 
 gent'muns dey bow so low when dey tech dey 
 han's, hit look lak er dream. Br'er Billy he wuz 
 always de fiddler fer de house, he an' 'Rastus ; an' 
 when dey scrape de bow an' call out 4 Face yo' 
 partners,' hit wuz er sight ter behol'. Den dey 
 danced er dance called de minnyet, but hit wuz 
 too slow fer de fiddle, an' Mistis always had er man 
 [26] 
 
MAMMY JOE AND THE OLD HOME 
 
 f'um town ter play hit on de pianner. De yard 
 was lit up wid tar-bar'ls an' torches, an' I don' 
 know which seem de nappies' — de white folks er de 
 niggers. But dar ain' no mo' Chris'mus-giP- 
 ketchin' now — no mo' new linsey frocks an' new 
 shoes, 'cep'in' what you buys fer yo'se'f, an' no 
 mo' good ole times lak dem. Eve'ybody done got 
 po' 'cep'in' dem new-fashioned white folks what's 
 comin' down Souf what never owned no niggers. 
 
 " Jes' 'fo' de war, when yo' Pa got ma'ied, an' 
 fotch yo' Ma ter de home, she wuz de beautifules' 
 bride I ever seed. She sutny wuz er angel ef dey 
 ever wuz one, an' she knowed how ter b'ar trouble 
 too, fer hard times an' trouble corned erlong han' 
 in han', an' dey seem ter have j'ined han's ter stay 
 wid us. 
 
 " You looks des' lak yo' Ma, Miss Ferginia, 
 'cep'in you ain' es putty, hut you talks des' lak 
 yo' Pa, an' I hyar tell dat you is smart lak he wuz, 
 wid book larnin', an' I hopes you is, fer he wuz 
 de smartes' man dat eber lived in dis county. I 
 'members one day when de war broke out, de 
 gent'muns wuz all tryin' ter draw er star fer er 
 pattern fer yo' Ma ter make a flag, an' yo' Pa wuz 
 de onlies' gent'mun what c'd draw dat star right. 
 An' he tuck dat flag ter Mobile when he went off 
 [27] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 wid his comp'ny. Dar wan' no gent'mun in de 
 county what knowed all de book-larnin' dat yo' Pa 
 knowed, an' nobody in de worl' wuz ever so good es 
 yo' Pa an' yo' Ma, ter us po' niggers. Lawd have 
 mussy! You hyar me call myse'f er nigger, 
 honey? Well, chile, I don' lak ter call myse'f er 
 nigger, kase, pertic'lar speakin', dar ain' but one 
 sho' miff nigger, an' dat's de debble. We black 
 folks ain' 'zackly niggers, you know, honey, we is 
 des' black-skinned white folks. My heart is des' es 
 white es yo' dress; yas, chile, dat it is, an' my 
 black skin don' make no diffunce ter de Lawd! " 
 
 Thus, sitting at the feet, so to speak, of the 
 Mammy whose black skin " don' make no diffunce 
 ter de Lawd," I have gleaned many of the facts of 
 my stories from her rambling reminiscences of the 
 old plantation days that are no more. 
 
 [28] 
 
Lookin' fer Marse Willie 
 
Lookin' fer Marse Willie 
 
 THE old mansion rested upon the summit 
 of one of the beautiful sweeping knolls, 
 so characteristic of the highland district 
 of Alabama, and was surrounded at the rear and 
 sides by the stately live-oaks and crepe-myrtles so 
 profuse in that section of the State. 
 
 The sloping lawn in front was green, but the 
 old-time velvety smoothness had given place to a 
 confusion of flowers and weeds and grass. The 
 handsome avenue of arborvitas, untrimmed and 
 uncared for, stretched out long shoots like gaunt 
 skeleton arms, over the confusion and dilapidation 
 of the neglected homestead. 
 
 Two long rows of tumbled-down cabins beyond 
 the once famous mansion represented indeed a 
 " Deserted Village," while the " horse lot " en- 
 circling the adjacent hillsides was no longer filled 
 with frolicking steeds. Its fences were down, and 
 the once prosperous barns and corncribs were ren- 
 dering up their remaining beams to supply the 
 fire-wood for the house. 
 
 The carriage-house, or what was left of it, was 
 now converted into a cow-shed, under which stood 
 [31] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 a patient old brindle waiting to be milked. The 
 tinkle of the bell which she had worn as the leader 
 of a large drove, was the only sound which broke 
 the deathlike stillness of the place, except the 
 creaking of an old broken-down buggy with tires 
 half off, which came creeping in at the heels of the 
 remains of a horse, whose reins were held by the 
 remains of the old-time coachman of Myrtle Knoll. 
 
 Uncle Billy rolled the " remains " of the buggy 
 under one side of the shed and turned old Stonewall 
 loose. The tired horse immediately began to assist 
 old Brindle at her meagre repast of corn-shucks, 
 while Uncle Billy gathered up a satchel and band- 
 box out of the vehicle and trudged to " de house," 
 as the mansion was called. The old man walked 
 quite sprightly for one of his age and ailments, 
 and a look of intense satisfaction lit up the features 
 of his venerable black face, so expressive of benevo- 
 lence and kindness. 
 
 " She's done cum," he remarked as he deposited 
 the satchel at the back entry of the house. " She's 
 done cum, Mandy." Aunt Mandy, who was busy 
 wiping out a lamp chimney at the little shelf 
 in the back gallery, jumped slightly at the sound 
 of her brother's remark, for she had not heard him 
 come up. 
 
 [32] 
 
LOOKIX' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 " Who, Miss Rose? " she replied, quickly. " You 
 don' ses so ! An' hyar I is tryin' ter set dis ole 
 lamp er goin' dat ain 5 had no ile sence de chile cum 
 home two year ergo. But how dis you git hyar so 
 soon, Billy? I been 'lowin' you'd break down in 
 de mud wid ole Stonewall an' dat rickety buggy. 
 Whar Miss Rose? W'at you go fetch 'er up de 
 back way fer? You know, I'se too lame ter sweep 
 de leaves off'n any whar 'cep'in' de front walk, an' 
 now you done fetched 'er in de back way what I 
 ain' had de strenf fer ter sweep ! " 
 
 " I never fotched 'er in de back way, Sis' Man- 
 dy," replied L'ncle Billy. " She jes' would git out 
 at de big gate an' walk ter de house; sed she jes' 
 hatter walk. Dar she cum now," he exclaimed, 
 pointing to the slim, girlish figure wending her way 
 in and out through the rose bushes to the home. 
 L T ncle Billy sat down on the back steps and drew 
 an old cob pipe from his coat pocket, raked out 
 some dried tobacco leaves, crushed them up in his 
 hand, filled his pipe and began to smoke. The 
 nicotine acted upon memory as usual, for L'ncle 
 Billy began to look dreamy and to talk to himself: 
 
 " Ef Marse Willie jes' n'ould cum back! " he re- 
 peated, plaintively. " Es ole as I is, I'd split rails 
 an' fix de fences, an' set dis place er goin' lak it 
 [33] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 usen ter be befo' de wah. Ain' nuthin' lef hyar 
 now 'cep'in' ha'nts. Eben dose good fer nuthin' 
 niggers what wouldn' he'p me mek er crop fer Miss 
 Lilly is 'feered ter cum hyar ter eben steal chickens. 
 Dat's de onlies' good I is ever knowed ha'nts ter do 
 — keepin' off fiefs. But dey's too many uv dem 
 res'less sperits gittin' roun' hyar ter suit me. But 
 I ain' s'prised whiles Miss Lilly look so powerful lak 
 a ghos' herse'f. Ain' no soun' er nuthin' on de 
 place 'cep'in' jes Mandy an' me — an' ole Brindle — 
 an' de horse — an' Gen'l. Wonder whar dat dawg 
 is anyhow! Hyar, Gen'l, hyar, cum hyar, 
 Gen'l." 
 
 General came walking up with a tired look in his 
 sightless eyes; in fact, the old house pet was blind, 
 and almost stone deaf; only his dog instinct and 
 the time of the day enabled him to creep out from 
 his bed under the steps when Uncle Billy called. 
 " Hyar's de scraps I save' fer you, ole feller," and 
 Uncle Billy pulled out two meat skins and a piece 
 of crust from the back pocket of his best coat, 
 which he had put on in honor of driving the buggy 
 to the station, ten miles away, for Rosalind Wal- 
 lace. 
 
 Aunt Mandy had hastened to the front, where 
 the girl could be seen lingering among the rose 
 [34] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 bushes, now filled with buds in spite of numerous 
 dead branches. " Lawd bless my soul ! " she ex- 
 claimed. " How you do, Miss Rose ! I sutny an' 
 sho' is proud ter see yer. How cum you didn' ride 
 up de ab'nue, hone} 7 ? I 'spec' you done git yo' 
 little feets plum' full uv mud, walkin' fro' de bushes 
 dis way." The old woman bent down and hugged 
 the skirts of the fair young girl, whose graceful 
 arms were outstretched to the faithful old mammy. 
 Her soft blue eyes were filled with tears, and she 
 trembled visibly as she asked, 44 How is she, Mam- 
 my, and how are you? " 
 
 " We is gittin' 'long jes' tolerable, honey," 
 Mammy replied. 44 She's takin' a little nap dis 
 ebenin', but you is gwine ter see 'er es soon es she 
 wakes up. She seem ter sleep er good deal hyar 
 lately, but den dat's good fer 'er, kase hit seem ter 
 me she ain' never is sleep a whole night in twenty 
 year." 
 
 Rosalind pressed the stiff black hand silently, 
 and her pensive face assumed a deeper sadness as 
 she mounted the steps of the front piazza of her 
 old Southern home. Seeing the look of sadness, 
 the nurse brushed stealthily a tear from her own 
 honest eye, for she too was bearing a weight of 
 memories and grief which she endeavored to hide, 
 [35] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 and in a bright, brisk manner began to bring up a 
 chair and offer a welcome to the young mistress of 
 the house. 
 
 " Take er cheer, honey, an' set down," she said 
 cheerfully. " I know you mus' be tired out wid de 
 long ride behine ole Stonewall. I gwine fix you 
 somethin' ter eat bime'by. But you mus' set hyar 
 an' res' er while fus' an' let yo' ole mammy look at 
 you good. Bless Gawd, I'se proud ter see you, an' 
 de weather done cl'ared up jes' beautiful fer ter 
 give, you er welcome home. Jes' look ober dar at de 
 putty sunset, honey ! Now ain't dat j es' too beau- 
 tiful! Dem clouds is mos' es red es my ole haid- 
 han'cher', an' jes' look at de piles uv snow-drif 
 clouds lak beat-up aigs ! Jes' look, Miss Rose ! 
 But, dar now, honey, dar is de ole fambly signmint 
 uv trubble in dem clouds. Dar now, dar de shad- 
 der, sho' you born. Yassum, I said de shadder, 
 Ain' you never hyared uv de shadder ? Yas, honey, 
 dar it is; it's de shadder I always sees when we is 
 gwine hab trubble. Don't you see it, Miss Rose? 
 Look right ober de hills 'tween dem two talks' spur- 
 rers." The old woman pointed her long black 
 finger in superstitious awe toward where the imag- 
 inary symbol of trouble — seen only by herself — 
 was supposed to be darkening the sunlight against 
 
 [36] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 the hills with its ominous presence. " You see dat 
 long black streak what look lak er cross?" she 
 whispered. " Yassum, dat's hit; well, when you 
 sees dat cross dar at sunset, hit's de sho' sign we 
 gwine hab trubble." Noting the anxious look on 
 Rosalind's face, she hastily exclaimed : " But den, 
 I ain' lookin' fer no trubble now you is come home, 
 honey, no — dat I ain'." 
 
 Rosalind had risen from the seat she had taken 
 and was standing beside the negress, looking far 
 above the hilltops into the sky. Her sensitive 
 nature was vibrating to the superstitious awe of the 
 old nurse. A deeper sadness seemed to settle upon 
 her troubled looks, and unbidden tears began to roll 
 from her eyes upon her soft cheeks. 
 
 " Lawd, Miss Rose, what make you cry, chile ? 
 Don' do dat, honey, you mos' bre'k my heart ef you 
 do dat way," said Mammy. 
 
 " It cannot mean more trouble to her, can it, 
 Mammy ? " Rosalind sobbed out softly, as she 
 leaned upon the arm that reached out to support 
 her. 
 
 " Lawd, no, Miss Rose," replied Amanda, in 
 deep self-reproach at bringing grief to her child. 
 " Lawd, no, honey. Don' cry, Miss Rose. You 
 mos' bus' my heart open ef you do dat way. I 
 
 [37] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 wish I hadn' never seen dat shadder; hit sutny 
 don' mean no mo' trouble to Miss Lilly " 
 
 " But it means trouble to you and to me, Mam- 
 my, and to Uncle Billy," replied the girl. " I do 
 not need any sign in the heavens, Mammy, to tell 
 me that trouble is at'hand. Oh, I feel so oppressed 
 at heart. It seems as if the old place never looked 
 so desolate, so changed, so — utterly wretched; the 
 cabins are nearly all gone — and — and — how lonely 
 the old gate-posts look. Oh ! how sad it is to live 
 where the world seems dead ! " Rosalind flung her- 
 self upon the chair from which she had risen. Her 
 abandonment to grief was so new to the usual brave 
 demeanor of the orphaned girl, that Aunt Amanda 
 was bewildered with distress. She flung herself 
 upon her knees by the weeping girl and began to 
 comfort her in her simple way. 
 
 " Don' cry no mo', honey," she pleaded, " don' 
 cry no mo'. I know it's hard — things do look 
 mighty changed, but den you mus' 'spec 9 dat. 
 What you keer 'bout dem ole cabins, an' de fences 
 bein' gone? Dey makes good kindlin' wood an' 
 saves er pile uv haulin'. Yassum, dem ole gate 
 pos's do look mighty lonesome stan'in' up dar all 
 by deyse'fs. We ain' never is whitewashed 'em 
 sence you come las' time, Miss Rose — tell you de 
 [38] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 trufe, honey, dey looks too skeery stan'in' up dar 
 in de dark, widout no fence hitched ter 'urn, an' we 
 wuz glad when de rain wash' de lime off. You see, 
 Br'er Billy, he's skeered uv ha'nts, an' he wouldn't 
 pass dem pos's in de dark while de whitewash las' 
 fer de worl'. No'm ! dat he wouldn'." 
 
 Rosalind smiled through her tears. 
 
 " Dear Uncle Billy," she exclaimed. " Is he 
 really afraid of 6 ha'nts ? ' " she asked with child- 
 like interest. " But Mammy," she said, returning 
 to her troubled looks, " I want to see my mother. 
 I have come home to stay with her — until — until — 
 I mean, always." The tears came again to the 
 tender eyes. 
 
 " Yassum," Mammy replied. " Jes' es soon es 
 she wake up. Now, don' go ter cryin' no mo', 
 Miss Rose. I knows hit's sad, honey, but yo' Ma 
 ain' in no sufferin'. Now, I knows her hair done 
 turn snow white ; I knows all dat, an' I knows you 
 is one brave chile, gwine 'way up yander 'mong 
 strangers ter work fer ter s'port yo' Ma, an' ter 
 keep de house from bein' sole so she kin libe in it 
 ondesturbed. I knows what you is done, honey, 
 an' I is done de bes' I kin ter he'p you teck keer uv 
 'er. Dat I is. 
 
 " An' she's still thinkin' dat you is a little baby 
 [39] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 an' dat she's rockin' you ter sleep eve'y night while 
 she watches f er yo' Pa ter cum home f'um de war. 
 Watchin' f er 'im de same es she done while de war 
 was fightin', an' den when dey was done killin' one 
 nurr an' all dem what was lef ' cum back home, an' 
 Marse Willie, yo' Pa, didn' cum, po' Miss Lilly, 
 she never said er word — jes' stan' an' look up de 
 ab'nue an' watch an' wait des de same, never movin' 
 'cep'in' ter rock you ter sleep, an' watch on." 
 
 "And does she never weep?" asked Rosalind, 
 very softly. 
 
 " Lawd, no, honey. She ain' never is cried yit 
 in all dese years, an' she ain' never is 'peared ter 
 know dat you is done growed up. She's des' de 
 same. She take eve'ything lak someone in er 
 trance. 
 
 " When I ses ter 'er : 6 Come eat yo' dinner, Miss 
 Lilly,' she comes erlong lak er little chile to de 
 dinin' room, an' she eats lak er butterfly, so light 
 an' dainty — not ernough ter feed er sparrer, an' 
 den when she gits thoo', she goes back ter de same 
 cheer on de gall'ry an' takes 'er seat ergin an' des 
 looks up de road des de same. An' when it gits 
 dark, I goes ter her an' ses, 6 Come, go ter baid 
 now, honey; hit's gittin' late,' an' den she say, 
 4 Bring me de baby, Mammy, an' le' me rock 'er ter 
 [40] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 sleep 'fo' her Pa come home.' An' den I makes 
 b'lieve I is handin' you ter 'er, an' she hoi's out 'er 
 arms an' thinks she's got you, an' she sings dat 
 same baby chune she's been singin' all dese years. 
 Den when she git so tired an' mos' fall ter sleep, I 
 leads 'er off ter baid. An' de las' word she say 
 eve'y night de Lawd sen' is, 4 Now sing me ter sleep, 
 Mammy, an' wake me up when Willie comes ! ' 
 
 " I bin hyarin' 'er say dat all dese years an' I 
 ain' never is lef 'er fer no freedom nor nuffin'." 
 
 The young daughter sobbed silently as she list- 
 ened to the same sad story that ever greeted her 
 brief returns to the home she had left only to en- 
 deavor to preserve, by her brave efforts, for the 
 refuge of the mother who still rocked her to sleep 
 in fancy and passed the many years waiting for 
 her loved one to return from the war. 
 
 " Miss Rose, you mus'n' take on so, honey," the 
 old nurse said as she tried to comfort the girl; 
 " you is done all you could do fer yo' Ma, er angel 
 couldn' do no mo', an' es long es we kin keep de 
 house f'um bein' sole so she kin stay hyar, she is 
 heap mo' happy den we-all is, an' Marse Willie is 
 jes' 'bleedged ter 'pear ter 'er some day, — dat he is. 
 
 " I never will fergit de day Marse Willie rid 
 down de ab'nue ter de war," she said, standing 
 [41] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 erect and pointing down the avenue of untrimmed 
 cedars. " I never will fergit dat day. Ole Prince 
 pawed de groun', an' Jerry wuz er grinnin' f'um 
 year ter year — he so proud ter be settin' on de 
 black colt, gwine ter de war wid his young Marsa. 
 You don' 'member Jerry, honey, kase you wuz jes' 
 er baby, but Jerry he wuz my onlies' chile, an' I 
 wuz er lookin' at him fer de las' time. We was 
 all er standin' right out hyar on dis ve'y gall'ry, 
 waitin' fer ter see 'em ride off to de war. Miss 
 Lilly looked lak er snow-flake in 'er white linen 
 dress, an' 'er beautiful young face mos' es white 
 as de frock. But she never shed er tear — dat she 
 didn'. She smile an' wave 'er han' an' hurray an' 
 sing Dixie, an' holt you 'way up, so Marse Willie 
 c'd see you de las' thing when he rid off. 
 
 " An', honey, ole Missus never cry nurr, but she 
 shuck lak de leaves on de tree. I de onlies one what 
 wuz cry in', but den, I jes' couldn' hoi' in, I was jes 
 'bleedged ter cry. I couldn' he'p it. Seem lak I 
 had ter cry fer 'em all an' fer bof e my chillen gwine 
 'way never ter cum back no mo'. 
 
 " Marse Willie, he look lak er king, an' he set on 
 Prince straight es er arrer; an' when he done kiss 
 you an' yo' Ma, he tuck my ole black han' an' he 
 say, 6 Mammy,' he say, 6 take keer uv my Lilly an' 
 [42] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 my Rose twell I comes back wid Jerry f'um de war. 
 Gawd bless you.' 
 
 " An' I say, 4 Yas, honey, don' you worry 'bout 
 dem; I gwine take keer uv 'em ontwell you an' 
 Jerry gits back.' An' I is tried ter keep my 
 trus' ; dat I is. I ain' never lef ' Miss Lilly f er no 
 freedom nur nuffin'. Seem lak I kin hyar de clat- 
 ter uv dem horse hoofs gwine down de ab'nue, es 
 Marse Willie rid off ter de war, ter dis day, an' I is 
 always lis'nin' fer ter hyar 'em cum back. I done 
 laid ole Mis' ter res' an' I done raised you up, an' — 
 an' I is done tuck keer uv Miss Lilly, an' never 
 'spec's ter leave her twell Marse Willie comes ter 
 claim 'er at de jedgment day — him an' Jerry. 
 Seem lak I kin hyar de clatter — " The old nurse 
 ceased suddenly to speak. 
 
 " Keep still, Miss Rose," she whispered tenderly, 
 " dar cum yo' Ma right now. She done wake 
 up, an' she knows it's gittin' night-time an' she is 
 comin' ter rock you ter sleep. Don' cry, honey, 
 you jes' set right hyar an' lis'en when she sing. 
 She's des es happy es er angel, Miss Rose, an' see 
 how sweet 'er face is ! Na'y wrinkle — her skin lak 
 er baby, dough 'er hair snow white." 
 
 A sad, pale woman came slowly toward the old 
 nurse and the young girl upon the piazza. Her 
 [43] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 hair was indeed white and her skin fair, but, as 
 Aunt Mandy had said, not a wrinkle was visible 
 upon her brow. A wistful look, however, saddened 
 the once beautiful face, a wistfulness, pathetic in a 
 childlike unconsciousness of all else save the long- 
 ing for him for whom she seemed to be forever 
 looking. 
 
 The old nurse handed a chair to the mother, who, 
 seeing the young girl (without a gleam of recog- 
 nition, however), drew partly back. Seeing her 
 hesitation, Aunt Mandy remarked, reassuringly: 
 
 " Hit's only a fr'en', Miss Lilly ; you needn' mine 
 her. What dat you say, honey? Fetch you de 
 baby? Yassum, I'll gib you de baby. Hyar she 
 is right now." Lillian Wallace held out her arms 
 as if to receive the precious one, which the faithful 
 nurse pretended to hand her. 
 
 " What did you say, Miss Lilly? " asked the old 
 nurse, tenderly bending over her. " What's dat 
 you say, honey? You so tired ternight — you rud- 
 der ole Mammy ter sing fer you? All right den — 
 ho? yo' little han'? Dat I will! How cole it is. 
 What dat you say ? You 'spec' he gwine cum ter- 
 night? Well, you des res' 'gin Mammy's arm, an' 
 I gwine wake you when he come. Des' res' on me. 
 I gwine sing you de chune what Marse Willie lub 
 [ 44 ] 
 
LOOKIN' FER MARSE WILLIE 
 
 mos'. Yassum, dat's his fav'ite chune — Jacob's 
 Ladder — dat de one he lub bes'. Seem lak he's 
 boun' fer ter hyar me right now." 
 
 Peering in vain down the avenue, and listening, 
 as ever, for the sound of the steps that were never 
 to come, the tired mother leaned back on the cush- 
 ioned chair and seemed to sleep, one arm holding in 
 imagination the baby to whom she had sung for 
 twenty years. But to-night, it was the quivering 
 voice of the nurse that fell upon the silent air. 
 Mammy held tenderly the hand of her child, which 
 she stroked caressingly, while she sang the old song 
 that " Willie loved," sang it while the tears fell 
 from the withered eyes, her trembling voice almost 
 choked by uncontrollable emotion : 
 
 " I is clim'in' Jacob's ladder, 
 
 Don' you griebe after me. 
 I is clim'in' Jacob's ladder, 
 
 Don' you griebe after me ; 
 I don' wan' you ter griebe after me. 
 
 '* I is goin' home ter Jordan, 
 Don' you griebe after me. 
 I is goin' home ter Jordan, 
 
 Don' you griebe after me ; 
 I don' wan' you ter griebe after me. 
 
 " I will wear dat crown uv glory, 
 Don' you griebe after me. 
 
 [45] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 I will wear dat crown uv glory, 
 
 Don' you griebe after me ; 
 I don' wan' you ter griebe after me." 
 
 Rosalind too was silently weeping. She had 
 looked beseechingly at her dear one with a last 
 longing hope for a spark of recognition — some 
 faint remembrance — but in vain. Kneeling rever- 
 ently, she pressed her face upon the arm of the 
 mother, for whom, away among strangers, she had 
 labored so faithfully and devotedly. 
 
 The hand that Mammy had released for her to 
 kiss grew colder and colder, and the chafing did 
 not warm it. Aunt Mandy, who was more accus- 
 tomed to the appearance of " her chile," soon no- 
 ticed the rigid fingers and the pallid hue on the si- 
 lent brow. Bending over her, she called, piteously 
 and tenderly, " Miss Lilly, honey, wake up ! How 
 cole yo' han' is gittin', Miss Lilly! Miss Lilly! 
 Oh, Miss Lilly, wake up ! " 
 
 No answer — no answer came, save the sobbing 
 sound of the daughter's grief. Gathering the 
 weeping girl within her arms, she cried: 
 
 " Miss Rose, Miss Rose, don' weep ; Marse Wil- 
 lie's sperit is come an' tucked my chile home at 
 las'!" 
 
 [46] 
 
Dat Chile 
 
Dat Chile 
 
 " HE wa'n' nair one uv dese hyar tow-headed 
 tom-boys lak de res' uv de chillun, I kin tell 
 you ; dat chile look mo' lak er sperit dan er 
 pusson, an' her hair look lak wheat straw, hit wuz 
 so gole an' yit so fair. I usen ter say, when de 
 'lasses candy got de color uv dat chile's hair, it wuz 
 done pulled ernuff an' fitten ter eat — an' hit wuz 
 too. 
 
 " She usen ter clam de trees lak er squi'l, an' she 
 look lak er rose bloomin' on de limb uv dat big mag- 
 nolia-tree. But she never to' her frock nor skin 
 her han's lak de res' — dat she didn'. She wuz es 
 dainty an' sweet es er butterfly, an' sing! um-m! 
 She'd set up dar an' sing lak er mockin' bird de 
 whole day long. Hit wuz es nach'al ter hyar dat 
 chile singin' dat when she went off ter school hit 
 look lak all de birds an' all de sunshine an' all de 
 flowers done gone wid her. But when she corned 
 back, hit wuz lak de glory uv de sunrise, fer eve'y- 
 thing seemed bright ergin. Yas, honey, Miss Isa- 
 bel (fer dat wuz her name) wuz de light uv de 
 place, an' she wuz er glory -light too. 
 
 " She seemed ter think of eve'ybody but herse'f 
 
 [49] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 while eve'ybody wuz sted'in' 'bout des her. Dat is, 
 her Gran'pa an' me. Lawd, yas, chile, her Ma done 
 died when she wuz born, an' her Pa soon f oiler after. 
 Ole Marster des p'intedly worshipped dat baby, an' 
 he give her eve'ything in de worl' she seem ter wish 
 f er. I never 'spected ter see de time when Marster 
 w'd er refused dat chile uv her wants ; but den, we 
 kin never tell what gwine ter happen, an' dat's sho\ 
 We ain' certain uv nuffin, honey, but def, fer dat is 
 boun' ter come. An' def did come when ole Mars- 
 ter broke de rule. 
 
 " Hit wuz 'bout de cap'n. Yassum, Cap'n 
 Franklin — Marse George I called him — he wuz jes' 
 f 'um de war 'bout dat time wid de straps on his 
 sleeves, an' er likelier lookin' young gent'mun you 
 never seed. Dat chile, she des seem ter think dat 
 de sun rise an' set in dem shoulder-straps an' I 
 couldn' see why ole Marster didn' lak him too. But 
 he des seem ter simply hate de sight uv him. 
 
 " Dat hurt Miss Isabel ter de quick, an' de 'tempt 
 ter keep 'legiance ter 'em bofe seem ter upset dat 
 chile might'ly. But I never 'spected ter see de 
 trouble dat I did. You see, dat chile wuz so young, 
 an' ole Marster so ole ; I reckon dat wuz de reason 
 uv it all. It happened one night in de springtime 
 — de time when de birds is nestin' an' de flowers is 
 [50] 
 
DAT CHILE 
 
 des beginnin' fer ter bloom, an' young folks gits 
 foolish, lookin' so much at de moon, dat I wuz 
 settin' in my cabin all erlone an' I wuz er smokin' 
 my ole cob pipe. It was one dat Silas lef me 
 when he died. I never tuck ter smokin' till after 
 dat — an' den I only smoked uv nights kaze I missed 
 him so. Well, honey, I wuz er settin' dar sted'in' 
 'bout puttin' up my pipe an' gwine ter bed — fer it 
 wuz gittin' late. I set dar restin' er minnit, an' 
 pres'n'y I heerd some light footfall by de do' an' 
 de latch hit lift up an' de do' creaked open. 
 
 "'Who dar?' I said, reachin' fer de fire-stick, 
 an' fo' de Lawd ! ef it wa'n' dat chile. 
 
 " 4 W-what in de name uv de lan' is you doin' up 
 dis time uv de night, Miss Isabel ? ' I say. ' What 
 on de face uv de yearth is de matter ? ' 
 
 " 6 Nuffin', Mammy,' she say, shettin' de do' an' 
 drawin' up a cheer by de chimley. Den I see she 
 got on gloves an' 'er hat, an' all dress up fer 
 trabellin'. 
 
 " 6 Miss Bell,' I say, 6 what dis mean, honey ? 9 
 " 6 Mammy,' she say, ' you mustn't git mad — 
 but I — I can' he'p it.' 
 "'Can' he'p what? ' I ax. 
 " 6 1 love him so,' she say. 
 
 " 6 Love who, chile ? ' I ax ergin. Wid dat, she 
 [51] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 bus' out cryin' an' flung 'er arms 'roun' my nake 
 an' sob out : 
 
 " 6 You know who it is, don' you, Mammy? Oh, 
 Mammy! Gran'pa, who used ter be so good ter 
 me, is so cruel,' she say. 4 Now, Gran'ma ma'ied 
 Gran'pa at sixteen, an' I am mos' seventeen,' she 
 say ; ' an' Gran'pa says I — I can' an' George says 
 I shall — an' — an' I'm so miserable, I'm — I'm gwine 
 ter run 'way.' 
 
 " 4 Gwine run 'way ! Bless Gawd ! What you 
 gwine run 'way f er ? ' I say. 
 
 " 4 George won' wait,' she sob out, * an' — an' I'm 
 — he's — he's comin' fer me ternight — an' oh, Mam- 
 my! I'm gwine be ma'ied an' I'm so miser'ble 
 an' so happy ! ' 
 
 " 4 Hyar ! hyar ! hyar ! ' I laf s, an' den I says : 
 4 You des hoi' on, baby, an' I gwine manage ole 
 Marster. I gwine see dat he lets in.' But 'fo' I 
 c'd move outen my tracks, I hyard er horse come 
 clatt'in' up, an' 'fo' I knowed what had happened, 
 de Cap'n done jump down an' open my do' an' 
 says : 4 Is you ready, darlin' ? ' 
 
 44 I sprunged up an' face him ; an' I say : 4 No, 
 Marse George, dis chile ain' ready. You ain' 
 gwine ter ca'y her 'way f'um 'er gran'pa in dis 
 way, nor f'um her ole mammy nurr. Ef you is a 
 [52] 
 
DAT CHILE 
 
 solger,' I say, 4 you ain' brave ter come hyar, 
 stealin' my chile in de night.' 
 
 " 4 Don' was'e yo' bref ', ole lady,' he say. 4 Her 
 gran'pa took matters in his own han's when he 
 wanted her gran'ma,' he say, 4 an' he seem ter have 
 forgotten how it feels ter be in love wid a girl,' 
 he say. 4 An' he rufuses me her han', an' I'm 
 gwine ter be solger enough ter take her off by 
 storm.' 
 
 4 4 4 Dat you ain',' I say. 4 1 gwine 'larm dis 
 whole place an' raise er storm, sho' nuff.' Den, 
 chile, I des' 'gun ter call des es loud es I could 
 holler. 4 Oh, Marster, oh, Marster ! Unc' Peter ! 
 Unc' Peter ! ' But knowin' dey wuz bof e deaf, I 
 den call fer de dawg. 4 Hyar, Wolf, hyar, Wolf, 
 hyar! sick 'im, sick 'im!' I call 4 mur-rder! 
 mur-rder ! ' Well, chile, by dat time ole Wolf 
 'gun to yelp an' bark an' he an' me made sich a 
 fuss terge'r dat Br'er Peter come runnin' out, an' 
 ole Marster hyard de fuss an' he run out an' shoot 
 off his pistil, say in' : 4 Whar de fief? Whar de 
 fief? ' Well, Marse George, he cotch Miss Isabel 
 up in his arms, an' set her on de pony he done 
 saddle up, an' honey, de wors' uv it all, he den 
 cotched me roun' de wais' — 'fo' Gawd, he did — an' 
 he sot me up on his own horse, right behine his 
 [53] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 saddle, jumped up hisse'f, give er cut ter de horse, 
 an' off we went! 
 
 " Dar we wuz, des er flyin' erlong. 6 Lawd, 
 Lawd ! dear Jesus ! ' I called out, 6 have mussy ! have 
 mussy ! Oh, Marse George, Marse George, le' me 
 down ! Le' me down, Marse George,' I say. 
 
 " 6 Hoi' on, ole 'ooman,' he say ; 6 we'll soon be 
 dar,' he say. All dat time, Miss Bell wuz on her 
 own li'l pony, flyin' 'long by de side uv us lake er 
 sperit in de night. My bref wuz mos' gone, my 
 body wuz mos' broke in two, an' my eyes wuz mos' 
 put out uv my haid, I wuz so terryfied. Well, 
 chile, hit wuz des sun-up when we 'rived at de li'l 
 Pistopal Church des at de aige uv de town. Den 
 he sort er ease up, an' he tuck me down an' almos' 
 tote me in de church-house. Dar wuz er preacher 
 an' er lady an' two odder gent'muns in unyforms. 
 Dey tuck us in an' de preacher he say some pra'rs, 
 an' pernounce 'urn man an' wife. Des den we 
 hyard a big fuss outside, an' bless Gawd! hit wuz 
 ole Marster. He done drove up wid de fam'ly 
 ca'iage an' de horses wuz white wid foam. He 
 walk right in de church-house, an' he say, wid his 
 face pale as def : 
 
 " 6 Jes' in time fer ter give my blessin'.' Den he 
 kiss de bride an' shuck han's wid de groom an' de 
 [54] 
 
DAT CHILE 
 
 urrs, an' he give his arm ter Miss Isabel, an' say: 
 4 We'll go home ter breakfas'.' An' he 'scorted 
 'um ter de ca'iage. He put us eve'y One in — me 
 an' all — an' tuck de whole uv us back home. Well, 
 it looked too good ter be true, honey, an' hit wuz. 
 
 44 Ole Marster wuz jes' es perlite es er fiddler, an' 
 he sorter look out de ca'iage winder, so es ter per- 
 ten' not ter see Marse George holdin' Miss Isabel's 
 han's. Dey didn' seem ter mine me, but dey seem 
 ter want ole Marster ter look de yother way, an' so 
 he did. When he got home, it wuz jes' 'bout 
 breakfas' time, an' Aunt Becky she done set de 
 table an' 'range eve'ything nice an' fine, fer ole 
 Marster had done give de order 'fo' dey bring de 
 ca'iage roun' fer him ter pursue us. Well, I wuz 
 terrible shuck up f'um de ride; I wuz mos' daid, 
 an' I corned mighty nigh dyin', I kin tell you. 
 Sometimes I wishes I had, honey, fer de trouble 
 what come ter me atterwards wuz wors' dan def. 
 Yassum, dat it wuz. 
 
 44 Well, when de breakfas' wuz over — an' hit wuz 
 a mighty cur'ous one, I kin tell you — ole Marse he 
 say he wish fer ter speak wid Cap'n Franklin in de 
 liberry. Miss Bell she went ter de drawin' room fer 
 ter wait while dey talked in de liberry. 
 
 44 Ole Marster wuz stan'in' by er table when 
 
 [55] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Marse George walked in an' on de table, honey, 
 wuz two big horse pistils — all loaded an' set. 
 
 " fi You is insulted my honor,' 'sclaimed ole Mars- 
 ter, c an' I 'spects you ter meet me at de bottom uv 
 de garden in half er hour.' 
 
 " Well, de cap'n thought dat ole Marster had 
 done fergive him when he fetched us all home so 
 perlitely, an' he wuz so 'stonished he couldn' speak. 
 
 " 6 You is er coward ! ' ole Marster 'sclaimed 
 ergin. 4 1 challenge you ter fight, sir, an' you is 
 afeered ter speak.' 
 
 " 6 I'm not afeered,' Marse George say at las', 
 * but I did not expec' dis ter be de result atter yo' 
 hospertal'ty — an' besides,' he say, 6 you is ole an' 
 I is young, an' I do not wan' ter take advantage of 
 you, sir.' 
 
 " 6 Coward ! ' ole Marster 'sclaimed ergin. ' You 
 is er coward, sir, an' unworthy my gran' daugh- 
 ter. Def en' yo'se'f ! ' With dat, he jucked up de 
 pistil an' Marse George he jucked up de yuther, 
 an' de nex' minit de shots runged out. An', chile, 
 when we got in dar, de cap'n wuz stretched on de 
 flo' wid de blood comin' f'um er hole in his bre's' — 
 an' ole Marster wuz stan'in' over him, plum 9 crazy! 
 Yas, chile, he wuz plum' crazy when he wuz actin' 
 so perlite at de weddin'. 
 
 [56] 
 
DAT CHILE 
 
 " Lawd, yassum, chile, de cap'n, he died wid his 
 haid on my baby's lap. An' he tell her not to 
 griebe an' tole her how it all wuz, an', chile, dey 
 found out atter he wuz daid, dat he never shot at 
 ole Marster 'tall — he des' p'int his pistil at de wall, 
 an' de bullet is right dar in de top ceilin' uv de 
 liberry ter dis day. 
 
 "No'm, dey didn' do nuffin wid ole Marster — for 
 he never knowed nobody f'um dat day ter de day 
 he died. He wuz stark mad, chile, an' Unc' Peter 
 had ter nuss an' watch him lak er chile, an' ter de 
 las' he wuz talkin' 'bout de 4 honor uv de fam'ly.' 
 But Miss Bell wuz de one to break my heart. She 
 des set on de cap'n's grabe, day in an' day out, an' 
 wouldn' say nuffin' 'cep'in' sometimes she'd sing; 
 but den I had ter go whar I couldn' hyar her. Hit 
 wuz de lonesomes' soun'in' singin' I ever hyard, an' 
 I couldn' stan' it. You see, Miss Isabel wuz de 
 light uv my eyes, an' she wuz all I had, an' I wuz 
 all she had, 'cep'in' Marse George an' her Gran'pa, 
 an' when she los' bofe uv dem, she seem ter fergit 
 her po' ole Mammy. She des set dar fixin' flowers 
 all de time, an' she eat so little, she des starve ter 
 def . Yassum, ter be sho' she died — dey all died — 
 but when my baby went, de light went out, an' 
 my trouble done come. Hit looked lak all de birds, 
 [57] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 an' all de sunshine an' all de flowers done gone wid 
 'er, an' nuffin' but darkness done settle over de lan'. 
 I goes ter de grabe-yard an' 'ten's ter de grabes, 
 an' sometimes I seem ter hyar dat chile singin' in de 
 magnolia-tree, lak she sunged when er chile, an' 
 den I seem ter hyar 'er singin' dat lonesome way lak 
 she wuz er singin' fer her daid love — on his grabe 
 — an' sometimes I seem ter see her stan'in' dar 
 fixin' flowers ergin an' I kin hyar her des as plain 
 sayin', 6 Sleep well, sleep well, sweet be dy rerpose.* 
 Den she disappears, an' I don' hyar nuffin' mo' twell 
 she come ergin. Ef you will come an' see me some 
 evenin' ergin, honey, jes' erbout dark, I will show 
 you de grabe-yard, an' maybe you kin hyar de 
 sperit uv dat chile, singin' dat grabe-song, 6 Sleep 
 well, sweet be dy rerpose.' " 
 
 [58] 
 
JCi-y 
 
 Uncle Tom's Matrimonial 
 Difficulties 
 
Uncle Tom's Matrimonial 
 Difficulties 
 
 HERE was a shuffling sound at the door, 
 
 a sound as of many feet in restless col- 
 
 lision trying in vain to extricate them- 
 selves from each other. But, indeed, it was only 
 a single pair, and such a pair! The plantation 
 shoemaker had never been able to give a number to 
 the last for Uncle Tom's shoes ; it was called simply 
 " Uncle Tom's big las' ; " and though plantation 
 brogans had long since given place to " store 
 boots," Uncle Tom still patronized the shoemaker 
 " wid de big las'," for store shoes were impossible 
 for his " tremendous understanding." A new pair 
 of these miniature gunboats adorned the feet of 
 Uncle Tom as he mounted the steps of the mansion 
 on the present occasion. He was trying vainly to 
 tread lightly and to keep back the squeaking as 
 he turned the door-knob of the house of Mr. John 
 Fairfax, the son of his old master, now at rest. 
 
 Mr. Fairfax had said " come in " repeatedly, 
 and yet many minutes went by before Uncle Tom 
 seemed to be able to manage his newly broganed 
 
 [61] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 feet or to make use of his equally big hands for un- 
 latching the door. With a much confused air and 
 many apologies for the late interruption, the old 
 man pulled his forelock, cleared his throat, and 
 stood like a culprit before the bar of justice. 
 
 " Well, Uncle Tom," said the young lawyer, 
 wondering at the old man's embarrassment, " what 
 can I do for you this evening? " 
 
 " Ef you please, Marse John," the old man re- 
 plied, gratefully, " I is come fer ter speak wid you 
 on de cur'ous axions uv Aunt Becky." Mr. Fair- 
 fax had risen, and, taking a glass from the table of 
 his study, filled it from a sparkling decanter and 
 handed it to his father's faithful coachman of past 
 days. 
 
 " That will help you to brace up, Uncle Tom," 
 he remarked. " You seem a little upset this 
 evening." 
 
 " Yas, sir, I is, thank you, thank you, Marse 
 John ; I is ve'y much obleeged ter you fer dis dram, 
 sir, fer I is powerful wor'ied dis ebenin', an' dat's 
 how come I is hyar ter ax yo' invice. Lawdy, 
 Marse John, dis do tase lak ole times — I feels bet- 
 ter a'ready, thanky, sir, thanky. What dat you 
 say, Marse John? Who Aunt Becky? She's my 
 wife, Marse John, an' I calls 'er Aunt Becky kase 
 [62] 
 
is cum fer ter speak mid you on de cur'ous axiom 
 uv Aunt Becky " 
 
TOM'S MATRIMONIAL DIFFICULTIES 
 
 I had growe.d up ter call 'er dat 'fo' I ma'ied 'er, 
 an' I does so yit out uv 'spec' ter 'er aige. 
 
 "You see, Marse John, I is bin in de ma'iage 
 business more'n onct. De fus' time I got ma'ied I 
 tuk de bes' lookin' yaller gal on de plantation, an' 
 we wuz gittin' 'long well 'nuff twell dat long- 
 laiged banjo-picker, Ned Wilkins, come erlong, an' 
 de fus' thing I knowed, Nancy (yas, sir, dat wuz 
 her name) done 'loped off wid Ned. Well, de nex' 
 time I ma'ied I tuk de blackes' gal I could fin', an' 
 she would 'er done mighty well but she tuk an' died 
 an' lef me wid ten chillun ter keep keer uv, an' de 
 younges' one jes' a baby; so I looked erroun' fer 
 ter s'ply 'em wid er mammy, an' in two weeks' time 
 I axed a mejum colored gal, des half yaller an' half 
 black, an' she 'cepted me ve'y willin', but f'um de 
 fus' day she an' de chillun couldn' 'gree. Dey fit 
 an' dey fought an' made things so lively 'roun' 
 de house, I was jes' 'bleeged ter stay 'way all I 
 could. 
 
 44 An' one day when I git home, I found dat 
 Tildy (yas, sir, dat wuz her name) done pack her 
 things an' lef me an' ma'ied somebody else. So 
 dar I wuz, Marse John, in er bad fix ergin, an' had 
 ter turn my 'tention ter de sitywation, so I des' 
 made up my mine ter let de young gals erlone, an' 
 
 [63] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 ter git one ole 'nuff ter ten' ter her business an' de 
 chillun an' not be lookin' at de odder mens. 
 
 " I looked all 'roun', but dar wa'n' no one what 
 I seem ter set my fancy on. No, sir, na'y one. So 
 one day Br'er Simon call my 'tention ter Aunt 
 Becky, He say how dat Aunt Becky would suit 
 de 'casion fus' class. Dat she wuz er fine cook an' 
 de bes' han' on de place fer raisin' chillun, do' she 
 ain' never is had none uv her own. Kase you know, 
 Marse John, no one ain' never axed her ter de altar 
 befo'. Hit tuk me mighty nigh a week ter settle 
 de matter in my own mine, kaze Aunt Becky ain' 
 much ter look at noways, but de chillun fret me so, 
 I made my mine up ter shet my eyes an' take 'er. 
 
 "An' f'um de ve'y fus', Marse John, de house 
 look lak bran' new. De ole soul seem so grateful 
 fer ter git ma'ied, she seem ter git young, an' she 
 an' de chillun took ter one nurr f'um de start. 
 Marse John, Aunt Becky is sutny done well by de 
 chillun. She done riz eve'y one uv um up, an' larnt 
 'um how ter cook an' clean an' do mos' eve'ything, 
 an' she sutny is bin er good cook. I ain' had no 
 fault ter find kase de greens was so good an' greasy 
 hit makes my mouf water ter des talk erbout 'um. 
 But you see, Marse John, de chillun is all growed 
 up now an' mos' uv 'um is done ma'ied an' lef, an' 
 
 [64] 
 
TOM'S MATRIMONIAL DIFFICULTIES 
 
 Aunt Becky she ain' es young es she wuz, an' she 
 boss me so ; de long an' short uv it is, I is fixin' f er 
 ter git me an'urr wife. No, sir, Marse John, I 
 ain' shame' : de white folks does dat way, an' we is 
 free ter git 'vorcements too, but you see Aunt 
 Becky she is onreasonable ; she is actin' mos' on- 
 grateful an' scand'lous. 
 
 " She is done got eve'y one uv my chillun sot 
 ag'in me an' dey th' eaten ter conger de gal what I 
 got in my mind, an' say how dey gwine hab me 
 'rested an' put in jail. I never had so much 
 trouble sence I wuz born, an' I come ter see ef you 
 can' he'p me out. Yas, sir, Marse John, I is putty 
 hard gone on Fanny (dat's her name) ; she's sich 
 er likely gal an' es frisky es er young sheep, an' — 
 an' — I can' sleep fer thinkin' 'bout her. I done 
 buy 'er de reddes' caliky frock I kin fine in de 
 sto' ; hit fairly put yo' eyes out ter look at it, hit 
 so red ; an' I is done got her er ring wid de bigges' 
 glass set in it I could fine in de town. Hit cos' me 
 two bits in silber. 
 
 " I done tole Aunt Becky dat I would let 'er keep 
 de spinnin' wheel an' de new cyards an' de new 
 sifter, an' eve'y thing mos', an' dat she could live in 
 de shed room an' he'p wid de work. But de way 
 she rar' an' charge hit ain' safe ter be in de house 
 [65] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 wid her, so I done 'cided ter leave 'er an' de chil- 
 lun — dem what ain' ma'ied — an' I is gwine ter live 
 wid Fanny's folks. What dat you say, Marse 
 John? Git 'vorcement? Yas, sir, dat's what I'm 
 hyar f er dis minit, so she can' have me 'rested an' 
 put no conger on Fanny. Bless de Lawd, Marse 
 John, I knowed you could fix it. Yas, sir, I'll call 
 ergin nex' week, yas, sir. Thanky, Marse John, I 
 gwine see de Jedge tomorrer ef I live." 
 
 A week after, the same shuffling sound announced 
 another visit from Uncle Tom, who, looking sadder 
 and more perplexed, excused himself by saying: 
 
 " Jes' er word, Marse John, ef you please, sir. 
 I is come ter tell you 'bout de way Fanny done 
 serve me. Des' es soon es she git her han's on dat 
 caliky frock an' de ring wid de big set, she done 
 sont me 'er imperdent letter what Uncle Simon done 
 spell out ter me. It say dat she an' dat good-fer- 
 nothin' Andy done run erway an' git ma'ied. Dat 
 all she wanted wuz ter git de red frock an' de ring, 
 dat she ain' had no notion uv ma'in' her gran'pa ef 
 her gran'pa did marry his gran'ma, an' — an' — an' 
 — she's done lef ' me an' I is mos' 'stracted. 
 
 " I done see de Jedge an' wuz 'rangin' fer de 
 'vorcement papers an' de lisum, an' I is even paid 
 de preacher in ervance, an' now she won' hab me. 
 
 [66] 
 
TOM'S MATRIMONIAL DIFFICULTIES 
 
 But dat ain' de wors'. I 'spected ter git ma'ied dis 
 ebenin', an' I done move over ter Fanny's people, 
 an' sence Fanny done run erway, dey is turnt me 
 out an' I ain' got no whar ter go, an' I is in a wors' 
 fix dan ebber. 
 
 " I went back ter my own home, an' bless de 
 Lawd! Aunt Becky done lock an' bar de do' on 
 me, an' she an' de chillun all inside dar larffin' at 
 me, an' say dey ain' gwine le' me come home no 
 mo' ; dat dey'll hab me 'rested ergin ef I breaks de 
 do' open an' will scald me wid hot water, an' dey is 
 actin' mos' scan'lous, an' I is come ter see ef dar 
 ain' no other paper what I kin sign dat kin he'p me 
 out an' make Aunt Becky berhabe herse'f an' le' me 
 come home. Lawd, Marse John, what makes you 
 larf so? I is so miser'ble! Ef you will jes' he'p 
 me out onct mo', I gwine fotch you de bigges' 
 water-million I kin raise in my patch nex' year, an' 
 de fus' possum what go up de 'simmon tree dis fall. 
 
 " Yas, sir, I promise ! Yas, sir, I sutny swear 
 I gwine let 'lone gittin' ma'ied ergin an' jes' try 
 ter make out wid Aunt Becky to de een, fer she 
 sutny is er good cook. 
 
 " I knowed you'd fix it, Marse John, for I hyar 
 tell dat you lawyers kin fix sich matters any way de 
 men wants, an' dat how come I ter talk wid you. 
 [67] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 "You gwine see Aunt Becky? Yas, sir, I'll — 
 I'll give you my word, I'll stick ter 'er ef it kills 
 me. Dat I will. Thanky, Marse John, thanky, 
 sir. I sho' gwine 'member dat water-million an' 
 dat possum." 
 
 [68] 
 
Ole Bline Hannah 
 
Ole Bline Hannah 
 
 AUNT HANNAH RANDALL, or "ole 
 bline Hannah," as she was called, was said 
 to be a witch. At any rate, she could 
 " conger " people and put them under " spells," 
 and even though totally blind and completely help- 
 less from the effects of rheumatism and old age, 
 everybody on the plantation was afraid of her. 
 Aunt Hannah lived alone in her own cabin, having 
 outlived her husband and all of her children; the 
 latter, however, died while young. There were 
 some who whispered that Aunt Hannah had not 
 taken care of them as she should have done and was 
 in some way responsible for their early departure 
 from this world. But no one dared to breathe it 
 aloud for fear of being conger ed. Though alone 
 and without a family to care for her, blind Hannah 
 lived better than anyone else on the place. She 
 called on anybody and everybody for whatever she 
 wanted. At first her helplessness had appealed to 
 the tender hearts of the negroes, and coupled with 
 the influence she held over their superstitious nat- 
 ures by her accredited powers of witchcraft, the old 
 crone soon realized the importance of her position 
 
 [71] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 and ruled her subjects with a rod of red-hot iron. 
 Her wants and demands were made too in the form 
 of prognostications. She would sing out so all 
 could hear her, " Sis' Becky gwine bring my brek- 
 f as' in de mornin' ; I sees fried chicken, an' I smells 
 fatty bread." 
 
 That was no less than an order for breakfast — 
 and no one dared to forget the notice. In the same 
 way, she would sing out (if she heard footsteps 
 passing) : " Sis' Tildy gwine scrub an' clean my 
 house fer me ter-day — an' I see Sis' Mandy 
 mendin' up my clo'es — an' I smells fresh buttermilk 
 f 'urn de house." It is needless to say that the news 
 was carried around the quarters at once, and even a 
 message was sent to " de house " to tell Mrs. Ran- 
 dall that blind Hannah wanted buttermilk. In 
 that way the old woman was fed, clothed, and kept 
 clean. Her bucket was always filled with fresh 
 water from the spring, and her yard was kept 
 swept cleaner than any other in the quarters. In 
 the evening, Aunt Hannah always had a gathering 
 of friends in her cabin. Everybody wanted to 
 hear Aunt Hannah talk. Her " experiences " were 
 a never-ending source of wonder and her visions 
 the most mysterious ever heard of. And then again 
 the fear of spells of " conger " which she some- 
 
 [72] 
 
OLE BLINE HANNAH 
 
 times cast over those undutiful to her, charmed 
 many a one to her circle who would have gladly 
 stayed away. 
 
 But Aunt Hannah was quick to ask, " Whar is 
 Sis' Lucy? " or " Whar is Br'er Jake? " And if 
 " Sis' Lucy " or " Br'er Jake " were to be taken 
 unexpectedly with a chill, or have a little mishap 
 of any kind, it would immediately be rumored that 
 " ole bline Hannah done cas' er spell on 'em, kaze 
 dey didn' go ter see her." And so it was, that 
 while despising her and afraid of her, the entire 
 plantation was at her feet in abject slavery. 
 
 Her domineering selfishness was almost unbear- 
 able at times, and many a rancoring heart wished 
 her in the other world, and especially the hearts of 
 the plantation children. They couldn't do any- 
 thing without some interference from old Hannah, 
 and they dared not " sass " her for fear of " de 
 spell." 
 
 Poor " Little Joe " hated her most of all. One 
 day he came from a long day's fishing with his 
 one treasured prize tucked inside his ragged jacket, 
 for Aunt Hannah could smell if she couldn't see, 
 and so he held it tightly inside and skirted the cab- 
 in of the witch to the very bottom of the garden, 
 and was creeping by to his home a few cabins 
 
 [73] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 away, when his poor little heart stood still as the 
 well-known screech of the old crone called out, 
 " Is dat you, Joe?" 
 
 The cracking of a tiny twig underfoot had be- 
 trayed " Little Joe," even though creeping by with 
 his most cautious tread. 
 
 " Is dat you, Joe ? " she called out again. " How 
 many fish you got dar? " 
 
 Now Joe had never mentioned his intention of 
 going fishing, and his woolly naps would have 
 stood up on end had it been possible for them to un- 
 kink, for it was a terrible mystery to him how Aunt 
 Hannah could have detected his tread and the fact 
 of his having gone fishing when he had told no 
 one, not even his Mammy, and when he had so care- 
 fully held his prize under the ragged jacket on the 
 further side from Aunt Hannah's direction. 
 
 " Little Joe " stood still at the question, a chilly 
 sensation ran up and down his back — while his 
 wool, as before stated, felt a strong desire to un- 
 kink. 
 
 " I — I — des got one, Aunt Hannah, an' — an' I 
 wuz bringin' it ter you for yo' supper," he replied 
 as soon as he could catch breath. 
 
 " Dat's er lie," Aunt Hannah responded. " I 
 know dat's er lie, fer I hyeard you sneakin' by, 
 
 [74] 
 
Poor little Joe 
 
OLE BLINE HANNAH 
 
 tryin' ter make b'lieve 'twarn' eben you. I kin 
 hyar an' kin smell ef I is blin\ Jes' you bring 'im 
 here an' Ma'y Jane — yas, I sees Ma'y Jane fryin' 
 'im fer me right now. What kine uv er fish is 
 it?" 
 
 " Hit's er cat-fish, an' hit's er big one at dat," 
 said Joe with an effort at being polite. 
 
 Aunt Hannah took hold of the sticky thing and 
 smelled it closely and carefully. 
 
 " Whar dat squr'l I smells dat's been 'long side 
 uv dis fish ? " she exclaimed. " 'Tain' no use fer 
 ter lie, kaze I knows you'se got 'im tucked erway 
 in yo' pocket." 
 
 " Hit ain' no 'count," Joe answered, feebly. 
 " Hit's des er young one." 
 
 "Hit's good 'nough fur me,' 9 replied Aunt 
 Hannah. " Des you han' 'im out, an' I see Ma'y 
 Jane bilin' 'im right now wid some new I'sh 
 taters. I 'low I gwine git er good game feas' fer 
 onct." 
 
 Joe was choking with inward rage and grief — 
 his childish disappointment was so mingled with 
 indignation that he could hardly control the sobs 
 that rose to his throat. He dared not, however, 
 show the slightest hesitation, and so pulling out the 
 tiny squirrel which he had tucked even more closely 
 [75] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 away, he handed it over to the woman and bravely 
 whistled as he walked away for fear Aunt Han- 
 nah would divine his feelings and cast a spell on 
 him. He stopped at Mary Jane's to say " ole 
 bline Hannah." That was notice enough to Mary 
 Jane, for she well knew it to be a " comman' f'um 
 de witch," and so she immediately went to receive 
 her orders about cooking the " game feas'." 
 
 Mary Jane was one of the motherly matrons of 
 the quarters. She was good-natured, kind-hearted 
 — and fat. She was a good cook and she loved to 
 eat. She was ever willing to prepare a meal for 
 the witch, as she generally got a bite for herself. 
 She hurried along to do the bidding, while poor 
 Little Joe trudged sadly homeward. 
 
 " I wish de debble would ketch 'er," he re- 
 marked as he flung himself down on his Mammy's 
 cabin floor. 
 
 " De debble wouldn't hab 'er," his Mammy re- 
 plied, for Aunt Nancy divined that something 
 was the matter with Little Joe, and she needed no 
 explanation of the cause of his grief, after he 
 made the remark. 
 
 Nobody but the " witch " ever molested her crip- 
 pled boy — for Joe was a small hunchback — and 
 that was the cause of his being called " little." 
 
 [76] 
 
OLE BLINE HANNAH 
 
 "What 'id she git out'n you dis time, Joe?" 
 asked the mother, with a tender solicitude in her 
 voice. 
 
 " De onl'es' fish I kotch an' de onl'es' squr'l " 
 sobbed the boy. 
 
 " Dat do seem hard," remarked Aunt Nancy. 
 " But I reckon dar's mo' fish in de creek, an' mo* 
 squr'ls in de trees; an' de nex' time you mus' des 
 cut ercross de bottom an' come up dis een uv de 
 quarters — den she kyan' smell 'um." 
 
 " Dat's des' what I done," sobbed Joe, still bit- 
 terly crying. " I crope by des es still es er mouse, 
 but Aunt Hannah gwine hyar you no matter how 
 still you is. I des hope dem fish-bones will choke 
 'er ter def !" 
 
 " You gwine git congered, fus' thing you know, 
 boy. Ole bline Hannah ain' no witch f er nuffin' — 
 you better look out what you say 'bout 'er. Dar 
 comes Unc' Sy, right now. You'd better shet yo' 
 mouf, I kin tell you." 
 
 " How you do, Br'er Silas ! " she exclaimed cor- 
 dially as Uncle Sy stepped briskly and suddenly 
 up to the door-step. 
 
 " I is well myse'f, thank you — how you do, Sis' 
 Nancy," he replied, politely. " What dat I hyar? 
 Who dat? Dat you, Joe? What de matter? 
 [77] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 You ain't sick, is you? " he asked kindly, seeing the 
 child in tears. 
 
 " No, sir," replied Joe, " but I ain' ve'y power- 
 ful well, Unc' Sy. I is been in de hot sun all day." 
 
 " Well, you better take my in-vice an' stay out'n 
 de sun all you kin dis season, fer de chills is er 
 gittin' mighty bad, I hearn tell," said Uncle Silas. 
 
 Little Joe grew more quiet as he stretched him- 
 self on the floor and kept his eyes shut as he lay 
 there thinking. 
 
 Uncle Silas glanced at him every now and then, 
 for he was very fond of the boy. He leaned back 
 in the best split-bottom chair, and conversed with 
 " Sis' Nancy " while she patched away on Joe's 
 Sunday breeches, quite cheerfully, considering the 
 size of the patches and the number of the holes. 
 
 All of a sudden Uncle Silas cleared his throat 
 quite hastily as if suddenly remembering what had 
 brought him to the cabin. 
 
 " I declar," he exclaimed, " I is done cl'ar forgot 
 to tell you 'bout Sis' Hannah, Sis' Nancy. Is you 
 hyard de news ? " 
 
 " Hyard what news? What is you talkin' 'bout, 
 Br'er Sy? " asked Sis' Nancy. 
 
 " Why, de ole bline sister is erbout ter choke ter 
 def wid er bone in 'er frote, I hyard tell es I come 
 [78] 
 
OLE BLINE HANNAH 
 
 erlong, an' Marse Tom is done come over wid de 
 toof pinchers, fer ter pull it out, but he can' git er 
 hoi' uv it, an' I spec' we gwine hab er fun'al." 
 
 Poor Joe ! he was not responsible for the smile of 
 satisfaction that lit up his ugly little black face. 
 He turned his head so that Uncle Silas wouldn't ob- 
 serve the effect of his words. 
 
 " I 'clar' ter goodness ! " exclaimed Aunt Nancy, 
 " I 'clar' ter goodness — dat look lak er conger, 
 Br'er Sy." 
 
 " Hit sho' do," replied her guest. " Hit sho' 
 do, an' I wouldn' lak ter be de one ter conger de 
 witch, kaze ef she lives, she'll put de wus' spell on 
 dem, an' ef she dies, her sperit gwine ter ha'nt 'urn 
 fer de res' uv dar days." 
 
 The smile died out of Little Joe's features; he 
 turned first cold, and then hot, and then began to 
 shake with a chill. 
 
 " What's de matter, Joe ? " asked the mother, 
 seeing an unusual agitation in the little limp figure 
 on the floor. " What's de matter, honey ? " 
 
 " I wishes I nebber had er gone fishin'," sobbed 
 the boy. " I never meant no wrong an' I nebber 
 'grudged Aunt Hannah ef I was mad." 
 
 " Wuz dat you what gib 'er de fish, Joe ? " asked 
 Uncle Sy, bending over the boy. " Well, le' me tell 
 [79] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 you, sonny, what's er fac'. Hit ain' yo' fault an' 
 hit ain' you what is congered Aunt Hannah; dat 
 fish wuz de caus' uv de conger — kaze she nebber had 
 no biz'niss takin' hit erway f'um er hunchback ef 
 she is bline, an' whoever it is what's done congered 
 Sis' Hannah ain' got no grudge 'ginst you. So 
 you needn' be 'feer'd." 
 
 The comforting words acted like a, charm on 
 Little Joe. He sat up with a hopeful, happy look 
 on his face. 
 
 " Den I hopes she'll die sho'," he exclaimed. 
 "Unc' Sy, dat fish wuz de putties' fish I ever kotch, 
 an' dat squr'l wuz de fattes' squr'l I eber seen." 
 The memory of his disappointment brought the 
 tears again to the surface. 
 
 " Dat's er unfergibin' sperit, Joe," remarked 
 Aunt Nancy. " We mus' fergibe, ef we eber 
 'spec's ter be fergiben. I prays dat de Lord will 
 hab mussy on her soul, fer Sis' bline Hannah has 
 been er miz'ry ter de plantation long 'nough — an' 
 I hopes de Lord gwine ter take 'er an' hab mussy 
 on 'er soul." 
 
 " Dat's what we all hopes," remarked fat Mary 
 Jane, who arrived at the door just as Aunt Nancy 
 made her last remark. " Dat's what we all hopes, 
 an' I is come ter tell you dat Sis' bline Hannah is 
 [80] 
 
OLE BLINE HANNAH 
 
 done choked ter def , an' we hopes de Lord gwine 
 hab mussy on 'er soul. 
 
 " Br'er Sy," she continued, " you is invited ter 
 de ' settin'-up.' Marse Tom is done loant us two 
 gre't big silber dollars fer ter lay on 'er eyes — 
 kaze dey half open an' am' shet good; and Miss 
 Sally done sont us er nice new nightgown fer de 
 swoud. 
 
 " We is done laid 'er on de coolin' boa'd an' I'se 
 done put de coffee on ter bile — an' so des' es soon 
 es you gits ready, you an' Sis' Nancy kin jine us 
 fer ter set up at de watchin'. Hit's gwine ter be 
 de bigges' fun'al ever seed in de quarters, fer no- 
 body ain' gwine risk bein' congered by stayin' 
 erway, I kin tell you." 
 
 The removal of blind Hannah was a relief and a 
 rest to the whole plantation, notwithstanding which 
 fact the funeral was the biggest and the weeping 
 the loudest ever known or heard in the quarters. 
 
 It seemed impossible to make grief enough over 
 the departed sister. But gradually the loud la- 
 ments over her sorrowful end ceased and the rest- 
 less dread of her " conger," and the " spells " it 
 was feared she had left, disappeared from the 
 minds of the superstitious. 
 
 Little Joe got well of the chills which had really 
 [81] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 taken hold of him on the day of the fishing, and 
 even became venturesome enough to speak of his 
 " las' gif ' ter Aunt Hannah." 
 
 In this way, perhaps, the death of the old witch 
 became associated with Joe's " las' gif " and the 
 cripple boy became in consequence a greater favor- 
 ite than ever on the plantation. No one ever both- 
 ered the little humpback again, and there was 
 always a kind word of welcome when it was an- 
 nounced, " Dar comes Li'l Joe whose fish-bone done 
 kill ole bline Hannah." 
 
 The two silver dollars which Marse Tom donated 
 to help close the eyes of the old woman were given 
 to Little Joe, as a compensation, we presume, for 
 the loss of the fish that proved so effectual in its sad 
 mission. Little Joe kept the two great big silver 
 dollars tied in an old rag around his neck, and 
 whenever he felt particularly friendly he would 
 display his hoarded fortune and tell you about his 
 " las' gif " and how the money had been " giv' him 
 by Marse Tom fer ter keep in 'membrance uv ole 
 bline Hannah." 
 
 [82] 
 
"Er White Horse Turnt 
 Loose " 
 
"Er White Horse Turnt 
 Loose " 
 
 A PLANTATION SERMON 
 
 Preached in the Bethlehem Chapel, Near Greens- 
 boro, Ala, 
 
 (i V "V E tex' uv my summon dis ebenin', is tex' 
 1 number two uv de Reberlations : 
 — ^ " 4 Er white horse turnt loose in heb- 
 ben an' de reins thow'd ober his nake, an' you kin 
 hyar de soun' uv his hoofs echoin' ter Goshum.' 
 
 " My Bredren', I know you all am' gwine be sat- 
 isfied wid my preachin' ter-night, fur I is sufferin' 
 wid de ho'seness uv my th'oat, kaze I done preached 
 at Cedarhill las' night, an' night befo' ; so you kin 
 see, dat I is putty well wo' out. Now, my Bredren 
 an' my Sistren, John, he was de great Revealer, 
 Ef de Lord hadn' said, ' John, seal up and don't 
 write no mo',' I am satisfied dat we'd er knowed de 
 ve'y hour, yas, my Bredren, de ve'y minit, we wuz 
 gwine ter die. 
 
 " Now, de Lord, he mounted de horse wid de 
 seven horns an' rode thoo de streets uv hebben, an* 
 I see er th'one wid fo' an' twenty Elders er settin* 
 [85] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 roun' an' I hyar de beas' hoofs echoin' thoo de 
 streets unter Goshum. 
 
 " Now, my Bredren, Gawd He made all de 
 beas'es an' things, an' He put man on de ve'y top 
 uv de ladder, an' he wuz de mos' disobedient uv 
 'em all. He made man wid two hund'ed an' eight 
 bones an' forty-th'ee element'ry sounds, an' th'ee 
 senses, an' He completed man by makin' him de 
 third pusson in de Trin'ty. 
 
 " An' es de beas' rode on de white horse, wid de 
 reins thow'd over his nake, an' his hoofs echoin' 
 ter Goshum, he seen de two hund'ed an' eight bones, 
 an' de forty-th'ee element'ry sounds, an' de th'ee 
 senses. 
 
 " My Bredren, hit would be onpossible fer us ter 
 pictur' in our min's how dem 'Postles an' saints uv 
 de ole times suffered. 
 
 " Dem folkses what lived in dem times corned 
 erlong one day, dey did, an' went up ter ole Br'er 
 Thomas wid er tommyhock in dar han's, an' dey 
 say, ' Ole Thomas, what def does you wan' ter die ? ' 
 An' Ole Thomas, he say, ' It don' make no diff '- 
 ence ter me how I dies. I jes' as soon die by de 
 tommyhock es any 'urr way ; ' an' my Bredren, dey 
 tommyhocked Ole Thomas ter def an' dey kilt him. 
 Den dey comes up ter ole Br'er Peter an' say, 
 
 [86] 
 
"ER WHITE HORSE TURNT LOOSE" 
 
 4 What def does you wan' ter die ? ' an' Ole Peter, 
 he say, 4 I don' keer ; hit don' make no diff'ence ter 
 me how I dies.' An' dey kilt Ole Peter. 
 
 " Den dey comes up ter John, de Revealer, an' 
 ast him, 4 What def does you wan' ter die? ' An' 
 Ole John say he wuz ready ter go when de Lord 
 called him. 
 
 " An' den, my Bredren, dem peoples tuk John, 
 de great Revealer, an' dey flung him into er pot uv 
 bilin' oil an' eve'y time de great Revealer bob'd up 
 an' befo' dey could push him back wid dey pitch- 
 forks, he lif his voice up ter Hebben an' say, 
 4 Lord, hit don' make no diff'ence ter me how I 
 dies.' 
 
 44 But dey couldn' kill dat gre't Revealer, kaze 
 while dey wan' lookin', Ole John lipt out uv de pot 
 an' runned off ter Patty mos. 
 
 44 Now, my Bredren an' Sistren, when Ole John 
 got ter Pattymos, he seen wile beas'es tearin' up an' 
 down an' all roun' 'im an' he lif up his voice ter de 
 Lord ag'in an' say, 4 Lord, hit don' make no diff'- 
 ence ter me how I dies.' 
 
 44 An' oh ! my f r'en's, de Lord he hyard Ole 
 John, an' he sont down er charrit. wid fo' horses, 
 an' cotched him by de robes, an' snatched him right 
 up into Hebben. 
 
 [87] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 " But, my fr'en' s an' hearers, de short time dat 
 John de Revealer wuz in Patty mos, he seen his bes' 
 fr'en' ole John Bunyam. 
 
 " Now de Revealer, he stopt f er ter see his fr'en' 
 John Bunyam, an' dey set down on a log on de 
 roadside an' talked erbout dat widder what lived in 
 de Bible. My Bredren an' my Sistren, 'specially de 
 Sistren, I wants ter pictur ter yo' min's dat ve'y 
 widder. Her onlies' son wuz gwine ter be hung, 
 an' she begged 'urn not ter kill 'im; but dey pay 
 no 'tention ter her, so she runned way ober ter de 
 king, an' she runned day an' night twell she got 
 dar. 
 
 " An' when she got dar, she tole 'im all 'bout her 
 son, an' he give her er stone wid his name wrote on 
 it. Den she thanked de King an' hugged an' kist 
 his feets. 
 
 " An' she runned all de way back, an' she got 
 ter de gallus an' seen her son, jes' two minits befo' 
 de time fer him ter die. 
 
 " An' she say, ' Jes' le' me kiss my son an' shuck 
 his han's onct befo' he dies.' 
 
 " An' she wouldn' show de stone ter any uv 'um, 
 fer she know'd dey would take it f 'um her. 
 
 " An' she got up on de gallus wid her son an' 
 she give him de stone wid de King's name writ on 
 [88] 
 
ER WHITE HORSE TURNT LOOSE" 
 
 it. An' he holded up de stone, an' say, 6 1'se 
 saved ! I'se saved ! ' 
 
 " Now, my Bredren, has any uv you got dat 
 stone in yo' hearts, wid de King's name writ on it? 
 Ef you ain', you'd better put it dar at onct. 
 
 " Oh, Almighty Gawd ! We ast dee ef it is dy 
 holy an' ergranted will ter give us pure hearts fur 
 Jesus' sake, an' lead us all back ter Jesus ef it is 
 dy holy an' ergranted will. An' keep us all well 
 ter do dy work ef it is dy holy an' ergranted 
 will." 
 
 (Loud groans and " Amens " came in volumes 
 from the aged Brethren in the left-hand corner, 
 and tremulous wails from the Sisters, and continued 
 rocking and swaying of their bodies. ) 
 
 Brother Driver seemed to realize the deep im- 
 pression which his words had made ; he mopped his 
 brow, cleared his throat, and renewed his efforts. 
 
 " O, my Bredren, I is glad ter see dat you all is 
 wakin' up, fur you didn' seem ter hab no repre- 
 hension uv de trouble uv sin. 
 
 " Hit is time fur ter wake ter de fac's 'fo' hit 
 gits too late. 
 
 " Now, my Bredren, dar is th'ee steps leadin' up 
 ter Hebben: Faif, Hope, and Cha'ity. 
 
 " Faif goes wid you thoo dis life, an' stops 
 
 [89] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 wid you at de grave. Hope does de same, but 
 Cha'ity goes 'long wid you into Hebben. 
 
 " I tell you ergin, Bredren, dar is th'ee steps er 
 leadin' into Hebben. 
 
 " Faif say, 4 Enter in.' Hope say, 4 Enter in.' 
 But Cha'ity takes you by de han' an' leads you in. 
 
 44 Now, Bredren, you knows I's 'parin' you fer 
 de love-feas' we is gwine ter hab ternight." 
 
 (At this point one of the brethren came in with a 
 bag of soda crackers and a pitcher of water for the 
 love-feast. ) 
 
 44 You all puts er piece uv de braid in yo' moufs, 
 an' takes er piece uv braid in yo' han's, an' den we 
 all breaks it together at onct. But, my Bredren, 
 I'm erf eared we ain' gwine ter hab much uv er love- 
 feas' hyar ternight, fer I kin tell f'um yo' 'pear- 
 ance dat my sermon ain' teched yo' hearts in de 
 right place. 
 
 44 But I is done my bes\ 
 
 44 Now, my Bredren, I wants ter tell you one mo' 
 thing, an' dat is dis: Dar is th'ee things what is 
 necessary fer er preacher ter have fer ter preach 
 de gospel. Knowledge in de haid, de sperit in de 
 heart, an' money in de pocket. 
 
 44 Now, I is got de knowledge in de haid, an' de 
 sperit in de heart, but, Bredren, I ain't got no 
 [90] 
 
"ER WHITE HORSE TURNT LOOSE" 
 
 money in de pocket. I ain' er preachin' fer 
 money; I is preachin' kaze hit's my callin', but 
 den, Bredren, I is 'bleeged ter have dem th'ee rer- 
 quirements, an' I only calls on you fer ter s'ply 
 me wid one uv dem. 
 
 " I will now call fer de third rerquirement, an' 
 I hopes you will shell out de nickels an' de dimes in 
 Br'er Perry's hat. Br'er Perry, will you please ter 
 step erroun' an' take up dat rerquirement com- 
 monly called de collectium. I specified de nickels 
 an' de dimes, but dar will be no rejection uv two- 
 bits, nurr free-bits, nurr fo'-bits — ef anybody is er 
 mine ter gib 'urn." 
 
 [91] 
 
Mammy Joe Tells of the 
 Sinking of the Merrimac 
 
Mammy Joe Tells of the 
 Sinking of the Merrimac 
 
 A COUNTRY village in the South is espe- 
 cially peaceful and quiet, except perhaps 
 on Saturdays and court days, when the 
 negroes come to town from miles around to buy 
 and sell and to attend court. The picture of 
 Main Street, Greensboro, Alabama, on those days 
 is a sight for the unbelievers ; one could hardly 
 imagine that so many mules, wagons, ox-carts, peo- 
 ple, watermelons, and watermelon rinds could be 
 gotten into so small a space. The road, the side- 
 walks, the side streets, and the stores are literally 
 jammed. 
 
 On one occasion a crowd was assembled the like 
 of which was never equalled in our quiet little city. 
 It was the 5th of June, 1898 ; the odor of roses and 
 honeysuckle hung heavily upon the warm summer 
 air; the peaceful stillness was only broken by the 
 carolling of mocking-birds among the shade trees 
 and shrubbery. Mammy Joe was on one of her 
 occasional visits to " Miss Ma'y." 
 
 Her arrival from the old home was always a 
 great event, and no queen ever received a warmer 
 [95] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 welcome than was accorded our faithful old nurse 
 whenever she came. She had heard that " Miss 
 Marfy," Miss Mary's sister, had arrived from 
 " Noo York," so the ox-cart was hitched up and 
 Isum and Jake had forthwith brought her to town. 
 
 " Lawd, honey," she exclaimed, as we helped her 
 into the house ; " you might er knowed you is one 
 uv my fav'rites or you wouldn' see me takin' dis 
 long ride ter town in dat ole rickety ox-cart. Bless 
 de Lawd ! how glad I is ter see you all ergin ! Hit's 
 good fer de sore eyes! But, chile, you ain' lookin' 
 ve'y well ; I f eered you don' git de right things ter 
 eat in Noo York. I hyar tell dey don' even know 
 what beat biskits is up dar; an' I know dey don', 
 kase I never seed none when me an' Mistis (yo' 
 Gran'mar), usen ter go dar befo' de war; nuffin' 
 'tall but des light-braid an' rolls — not even er sign 
 uv aig-braid; an' ef peoples don' hab good braid, 
 dey cfon' hab nuffin' good. 
 
 " But, chillun," she continued, after making her 
 expressions of happiness to each and all of us, 
 " has you all hyard de news uptown? " 
 
 No news had been heard by the family up to that 
 time ; it was then about eleven o'clock in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 " Why, chillun ! " she exclaimed in astonishment 
 [96] 
 
SINKING OF THE MERRIMAC 
 
 at our having heard nothing unusual. 44 Why, 
 chillun, hit's des lak Chris'mus uptown ; de 
 gent'muns is all stan'in' tergedder on de cor- 
 ners, an' I hjard 'um hoorajin' an' goin' on at sich 
 er rate, hit mos' skeered me. I seed Unc' Billy 
 comin' 'long, an' I called ter him an' axed him what 
 on de yearth wuz de matter. 
 
 " 4 Why, Aunt Joe,' he say, 4 ain' you hyard de 
 news ? ' 
 
 44 4 No, sir,' I say. 4 What news ? I is des' driv' 
 up f'um de country, an' I ain' hyard er thing 
 'ceptin' dat my chile done come home f'um Noo 
 York.' Wid dat, I thought Unc' Billy would bus' 
 open. 
 
 44 4 Why, good gracious,' he say. 4 Does you see 
 dem big crowds uv people up yander an' all dem 
 nigh de Pos' Off us? Well, Aunt Joe, dat's whar 
 de bullion-boa'd stan's, an' de news on dat bullion- 
 boa'd done say how dat Marse Rich Hobson is done 
 sunk de ship f'um under his feets, an' done walked 
 on de water lak 'Postle Peter. Yassum, dat's de 
 fac', Aunt Joe.' An' chillun, Unc' Billy say dat 
 Marse Rich walked on de water right over dem 
 dinermite shells, right thoo' de bullits what was 
 shootin' at him on de right side an' on de lef side 
 an' behine him an' in front uv him, an' dat Marse 
 [97] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Rich didn' pay no mo' 'tention ter 'urn den ef dey 
 was flies an' muskeeters. He des breshed dem can- 
 non-balls off wid his han's an' walked right up ter 
 de mouf uv dat gre't Spannium, an' ram his fis' 
 down dat Spannium's th'oat an' done choke him ter 
 def . Yassum, dat he did ! Unc' Billy say, 6 Aunt 
 Joe, dat's what I makes out f'um what I hyars 'urn 
 say, an' I'se gwine des as fas' as I kin ter tell Miss 
 Sally. I ain' s'prised er bit at Marse Rich,' he say, 
 6 f er I knowed he was de braves' solger in de war,' 
 he say, 4 an' boun' ter kill dat Spannium dey been 
 tryin' ter choke up. All dat s'prises me,' he say, 
 * is his workin' uv dat merricle. I done watched 
 dat chile,' he say, 4 when he wa'n' no higher dan my 
 knee, an' I always tuck noticement dat whenever de 
 boys played fox-an'-houn's in de grove, Marse 
 Rich wuz always de fox. An' he heads 'um ter dis 
 day, an' dey ain' never is gwine ketch him nurr. 
 But Aunt Joe,' he say, 6 who'd s'posed dat dat chile 
 was gwine work er merricle an' walk on de water lak 
 'Postle Peter, sinkin' de ship f'um under his own 
 feets an' not git kilt? I jes looks fer Marse Rich 
 ter be translated, an' 'spects de nex' thing we hyar, 
 de charrot will have tuck him up inter hebben.' " 
 
 But the news had reached " Miss Sally " long 
 before Uncle Billy did. Telegrams were flying all 
 [98] 
 
SINKING OF THE MERRIMAC 
 
 over the town before we had time to recover from 
 the remarkable account made out from the " bul- 
 lion-boa'd " by Uncle Billy, as related by Mammy 
 Joe. 
 
 It did look like Christmas uptown sure enough, 
 for the little city took on a holiday appearance. 
 Among the rose vines over " Rose-Mary " cottage 
 the first flags were hung. What did it matter that 
 they bore the Southern cross of the Confederacy? 
 They were flags — they meant life, country, hero- 
 ism, and honor, and they were unfurled, for they 
 were all that we had, and we were fain to honor the 
 hero of our home. When the evening train came in 
 from Selma, however, the Stars and Stripes, which 
 had been telegraphed for, were unfurled by the side 
 of the mementoes of the Lost Cause. The flag of 
 the nation took on a new meaning, and for the first 
 time since the war, the " Stars and Stripes 99 floated 
 peacefully over many proud mansions and devas- 
 tated Southern homes. 
 
 [99] 
 
Mammy Tilly's Visit to 
 the City 
 
4S€ 3S» 
 
 Mammy Tilly's Visit to 
 the City 
 
 XASSUM, all my white folks is moved 
 j( erway — gone ter town ter be near de 
 A schools, so dey say — no money fer ter 
 hab gub'nors an 5 teachers lak dey usen ter hab. 
 Eve'ything so changed, you know. 
 
 " Yassum, de chillun tries ter he'p me all dey 
 kin, an' dey pays my rent fer me now, an' dey 
 wanted me ter go live in town, but I des can' leave 
 de ole place. Seem lak hit suits me bes', an' den de 
 good book say dat 6 man mus' yearn his braid by 
 de swift uv his eye-brows.' I des stays hyar an' 
 makes my 'tater patch an' gits erlong de bes' I kin 
 wid what dey does fer me. 
 
 " Sometimes I goes ter Greensboro, ter see Miss 
 Ma'y, but I never is gwine ter de city uv Bum- 
 mingham ergin es long es I live. Hit's too unruly 
 er place. Hit's wus' dan Xoo York, honey. I 
 never did see cyars runnin' 'long widout horses 
 hitched ter 'um, an' spittin' fire when me an' Mistis 
 usen ter go ter Noo York, an' I never seed none in 
 Washin'ton City nurr ; but Bummingliam, chile, is 
 in de han's uv de debble, sho' es you's born. I hope 
 [103] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Miss Sadie will come back home some day an' leave 
 dat place. Dey tells me dat Noo York done got de 
 same way sence de war, but I ain' been dar, an' so I 
 don' know, but de whole worl' seem upside down 
 sence de war. Yassum, dat it do. 
 
 " Yassum, dey wanted ter take ole Mammy Tilly 
 erlong, but I couldn' leave de ole place nohow. I 
 went up dar f er er time on er visit, but de 'citement 
 uv de city wuz too much fer my rheumatiz. Sech 
 a time es we had ! Chile, I lak ter have died bef o' 
 I got back home. 
 
 " Miss Sadie got er ve'y nice house in Bumming- 
 ham, but it ain' lak de mansion over dar in de grove 
 where she usen ter live lak er queen. Hit's too 
 close ter de neighbors, heap wors' dan Greensboro. 
 / lak plenty uv room, honey; I'se been usen ter it 
 all my life, an' it sutny did make me mad ter see de 
 servants in de nex' house lookin' right square in our 
 back do', an' watchin' eve'ything what we doin' in 
 our house. Den ergin, you kin hyar eve'y word 
 dey say, an 9 smell everything dey cook, an 9 see 
 eve'ything goin 9 on. No'm, I don' lak no city. 
 Dar is too many myster'us things in er city, Miss 
 Marfy. Cyars runnin' 'long, doubten horses 
 hitched ter 'urn an' spittin' fire f'um top ter bot- 
 tom, an' notes an' letters on telefomes fly in' roun' 
 [104] 
 
"An makes my later patch 
 
MAMMY TILLY'S VISIT TO THE CITY 
 
 doubt en no nigger ter carry 'um ter de ladies, an' 
 de boys comin' home at night an' openin' de front 
 do' wid er key no bigger dan de blade uv er pen- 
 knife, an' nobody hyar 'um. Dem keys is mys- 
 ter'ous, chile, an' sometimes dey makes mischief an' 
 trouble. One night, Marse Tommie, Miss Sadie's 
 younges' boy, who wuz home Turn school, went out 
 ter er dance, or somethin', an' when he come home 
 he fotch er young gent'mun fr'en' wid him, unbe- 
 knownst ter us all. Well, dey come in wid dat key, 
 an' nobody hyard 'um. Marse Tommie, he went 
 right ter baid, but de young gent'mun what wuz 
 wid him, say he gwine hab er smoke fus', an' so he 
 light de cigar an' res' his feets on de mantlepiece, 
 leans back in er big tall cheer an' starts ter read de 
 paper. Well, Miss Sadie, she wake up an' disre- 
 membered dat she done fergit ter lock de back hall 
 do', so 'stead uv callin' me, what wuz sleepin' in 
 de nus'ry, she waked up Miss Helen an' axed her 
 ter go downstairs an' lock de hall do'. Well, 
 Miss Helen, she tuck de candle an' started down. 
 When she gits ter de bottom uv de steps, she sees 
 a bright light in Marse Tommie's room, an' she 
 peeps in, an' bless Gawd ! when she seed er strange 
 young man settin' in dar an' de lights all up, she 
 runs back upstairs, skeered mos' ter def, an' to? 
 [105] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 her Ma dat de whole house was filled up wid 
 bu'glars. Den Miss Sadie called me ter wake up, 
 an' we locked an' barred de room do', an' den we 
 raise de winder an' call ter de nex' do' neighbor. 
 Hit wuz de fus' time I ever feel reconcile ter de 
 closeness uv de neighbors. Miss Williams she riz 
 up her winder an' want ter know what de matter. 
 4 Our whole house is full uv bu'glers,' Miss Sadie 
 tell her, an' she ax her ter please sen' Mr. Williams 
 over fer ter he'p us. But Miss Williams say dat she 
 couldn' ; dat she feared Mr. Williams would git 
 kilt — dat she wouldn' wake him up fer de worl'. 
 Well, honey, dar we wuz ! An' ef it hadn' been fer 
 de telefome, Gawd knows what would er 'come uv 
 us. 
 
 " Miss Williams she say she had er telefome, so 
 she call up de perlice departmen', an' de nex' minit 
 mos' er hunderd perlicemens hit seem lak come rid- 
 in' up wid drawed pistils in dey han's. Dey come 
 in de back hall do' lak Miss Williams tole 'um, an' 
 drawed up in line befo' Marse Tommie's do'. Well, 
 de young gent'mun, when he hyard de fuss an' seed 
 all dem revolvers p'inted at him, he jumped up an' 
 dashed outen de winder, breakin' it all ter pieces, 
 wid all de perlicemens right behine him. Dat woke 
 Marse Tommie up ; an' when he seed de buttons an' 
 
 [106] 
 
MAMMY TILLY'S VISIT TO THE CITY 
 
 de guns, he run ter de winder an' hollered 6 Fire ' 
 des as loud as he c'd holler. De perlicemens what 
 wuz outside, turnt on de fire-'larm, an' 'fo' dey git 
 thoo' chasin' de young gent'mun back in de house, 
 whar dey kotch 'im an' tie his han's, de whole fire 
 bergade done turnt out, an' de nex' thing we 
 knowed, de water was po'in' down de chimley an' 
 thoo de winders, an' sich er time you never see sence 
 you wuz born. Ef Miss Sadie hadn' reco'nize 
 Marse Tommie holl'in' an' fightin' ter be turnt 
 loose, dem perlicemens w'd er han'cuff' an' ca'ied 
 him off ter de jail. Es it wuz, dey done him bad 
 ernough. An' when we f oun' out dat dey wan' no 
 bu'glers, 'cep'in' des Marse Tom an' his fr'en', we 
 sutny wuz mystyfied. An' hit wuz all de fault uv 
 dem night-keys, honey. Dey ain' half so 'spect- 
 able as hit wuz when ole Marster er de boys w'd 
 come home wid de clattin' uv horse-hoofs thoo' de 
 grove an' de big soundin' step on de gall'ry an' 
 Unc' Billy an' Unc' Sy ter unsaddle de horses, an' 
 Jerrymiah dar fer ter put 'um ter bed. Dem keys 
 is lots uv trouble. I wuz so shuck up over de 'cite- 
 ment I mos' died, an' de nex' time I des come home ! 
 Yassum, dat I did. 
 
 " Dat wuz de time when Marse Tommie had 
 ernurr fr'en' wid him. You see, Marse Tommie's 
 
 [107] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 room wuz on de parlor flo', an' one day ole Miss 
 Ma'y Jane Wilkins, f'um up de country near 
 Cracker-Nake, come ter stay all night. Well, she 
 so ole dat Miss Sadie tole Marse Tommie fer ter 
 sleep upstairs in de comp'ny room an' let Miss 
 Ma'y Jane sleep down in his room ter keep her f 'urn 
 goin' up de long steps. Well, chile, I fixed de 
 room ready fer de exchange, an' Marse Tommie he 
 went ter baid on time, but de young gent'mun he 
 went callin'. Miss Sadie say she gwine set up an' 
 wait fer 'im an' sen' 'im upstairs, es he didn' know 
 erbout comp'ny bein' in Marse Tom's room. But 
 dat key, chile, wuz so slick, he come in widout Miss 
 Sadie hyarin' 'im, an' he opens de do' an' started 
 ter baid. 
 
 " He couldn' fine er match nowhar, so he starts 
 ter ondress in de dark, an' de fus' thing he done 
 wuz ter kick one uv his boots off, honey, an' sling 
 it at de baid, thinkin' Marse Tom in dar. Ole Miss 
 Wilkins she call out, 6 Who dat in hyar?' De 
 young gent'mun didn' say nuffin', thinkin' hit was 
 Marse Tom tryin' ter play a joke on 'im, makin' 
 b'lieve he was a 'ooman. 4 Who dat in hyar? ' she 
 call out ergin. De young gent'mun he make er 
 fuss wid his mouf, jes' so- — € coop, coop, coop.' 
 ' Who dat, I say ? ' 6 M-m-m-m-m,' say he, an' den 
 
 [108] 
 
MAMMY TILLY'S VISIT TO THE CITY 
 
 he sail de yuther boot erlong over de baid. Well, 
 chile, Miss Ma'y Jane was mos' skeered ter def by 
 dat time, an' de way she hollered an' de yell she done 
 give would er raised de daid ! Hit sutny did raise 
 Marse Tommie's fr'en'. He jumped outen dat 
 room in his night clo'es, an' met Miss Sadie an' de 
 young ladies, an' Marse Tommie an' we-all comin' 
 down de stairs wid lamps an' sticks ter see what de 
 matter wid po' ole Miss Ma'y Jane Wilkins. Dat 
 wuz ernuff fer me. I tole Miss Sadie I des' couldn' 
 stan' de 'citement uv town no ways, an' so I come 
 'long home. Marse Tommie he fotched me all de 
 way to de station, an' when he lef me, he say, 
 'Mammy Tilly, I'll tho' 'way dat latch-key ef 
 you'll des go back wid me ter town.' But I couldn' 
 stan' de 'citement, so I des lives on de ole place in 
 hopes dat de summons will come some day an' ca'y 
 me home ter ole Mistis what's waitin' fer me in de 
 kingdom." 
 
 [109] 
 
Aunt Roxy-Ann an' de 
 Apple- Tree 
 
Aunt Roxy-Ann an' de 
 Apple- Tree 
 
 DE apple-tree, honey, is er merikle uv 
 merikles. Hit's er tree you better not 
 fool wid. Hit's been er gittin' people in 
 trouble eber sence Adam steal dat fus' fruit fer 
 Eve. One day at chu'ch, when de stracted meetin' 
 wuz gwine on, I axed Br'er Proffit Christian whut 
 wuz de truble 'bout dem apples, anyway. 
 
 I axed him what wuz de reason de Lawd didn' 
 wan' Eve ter eat 'um. An' Br'er Proffit he say de 
 reason dat de Lawd didn' wan' Eve fer ter eat 'um 
 wuz kaze He wanted 'um fer His se'f, he say, an' ef 
 he didn' want 'um fer His se'f He wanted 'um for 
 somebody else, he say. But himesoever hit wuz, he 
 say, de apple-tree is er tree ter be 'voided. In dem 
 days I wuz des grow'd up, an' honey, I wuz mighty 
 fon' uv fixin' up wid fine close an' outdoin' de 
 yuther gals an' er carryin' my haid high. I didn' 
 hab nuffin' ter do but nuss Miss Lou's baby, an' Miss 
 Lou wuz mighty good 'bout givin' me her cas'-off 
 hats an' things. One day she give me er fine raid 
 velvet hat, an' de chillen had done gib me some yal- 
 [113] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 ler paper flowers, an' I fixed it up fine f er ter w'ar 
 ter de big fun'l on Sunday. You see, Aun' Neu- 
 phelia J ones had des died, an' Miss Lou sed I might 
 go to de fun'l. I sho' wuz proud dat Sunday morn- 
 in' when I git myse'f ready ter f oiler de persession 
 to the grabe. I had on all my bes' close, an' I felt 
 as free as er jay bird in de cornfiel'. 
 
 De fun'l was de bigges' I ever seed, an' Unc' 
 Proffit Christian he preached de summon. 
 
 De ve'y nex' day atter de buryin', Unc' Silvester 
 Jones, de husban' uv de corpse, corned to my mam- 
 my's cabin f er ter call. Mammy she wuz down ter 
 de spring doin' de Monday washin', an' dar wan' 
 nobody dar but me an' Miss Lou's baby what I 
 wuz nursin'. Well, chile, berfo' Unc' Silvester lef 
 he done axed me ter mar'y him. When my mammy 
 cumed in Unc' 'Vester said ter her, " Sis' Malaria 
 Ann," he say (yassum, dat wuz my mammy's 
 name, Malaria Ann Johnsing). " Sis' Malaria 
 Ann," he say, " I is done axed Miss Roxy Ann fer 
 ter jine han's wid me dis day two weeks." 
 
 " Bless Gord," say mammy, " you is in er mighty 
 big hurry, Br'er 'Vester. Why, Sis' Neuphelia ain' 
 hardly cole in de grabe." 
 
 " Well, I knows dat, Sis' Malaria," he ses, " but 
 Neuphelia is des es daid es she eber is gwine ter be, 
 [114] 
 
AUNT ROXY-ANN 
 
 an' den ergin, de preacher he sed at de fun'l dat dis 
 life wuz short an' oncertain, an' I know'd I didn' 
 hab no time ter lose. An' den ergin you see de 
 ole sisters at de chu'ch will be er layin' out plans 
 fer me ef I don' lay out plans fer myse'f an' 
 git er haid uv 'um, an' when I seed Miss Roxy 
 Ann at de grabe yistidy, lookin' lak er corn blossom 
 wid de tassels all 'er silkin', I des made my mine up 
 right den an' dar fer ter ax her ter take de place uv 
 de deceased corpse. Why, Sis' Malaria," he say, 
 " Miss Roxy Ann wuz de ve'y light uv de fun'l. I 
 don' b'lieve I could er stood it if I hadn' seed her 
 standin' dar, de one bright light in de darkness uv 
 my trouble." 
 
 Well, honey, mammy and Unc' 'Yes' fixed it up, 
 an' Miss Lou said she'd give me some mo' things, 
 an' dey got me all ready fer de weddin', what tuck 
 place de nex' Sunday week. All de yother gals 
 wuz dat env'ous uv me dey couldn' see straight, 
 an' I wuz so happy I des la'f all de time. Miss Lou 
 an' Marse Jack give us er cabin all to wese'f, an' I 
 seem so joyful an' full uv de pleasures uv de worl' 
 I 'gun ter git skeerd dat I never would be able ter 
 feel sorrowful ernuff ter git 'ligion an' jine de 
 chu'ch. 
 
 So one day I made my mine up ter ax de Lawd 
 [115] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 ter sen' trouble ter keep me fum gittin' too f amil- 
 ious wid de debbil. You see, I had de fines' close 
 uv any gal in de congergation, an' no wuck ter do 
 but nuss de baby an' cook fer 'Ves. I know'd I 
 wuz too free fer er Christian. So I went down in 
 de bottom uv de garden, whar' no one could see me, 
 'cep'n de Lawd, an' I git down on my knees under 
 de big apple-tree an' 'gun ter pray. Ef I des 
 hadn' gone ter de apple-tree, honey, it would er 
 bin all right, but hit looked mo' ter my fancy dan 
 de peach-tree, an' so I prayed ter de Hebbenly 
 Father fer ter sen' me er trial uv my strenf. 
 " Lawd," I ses, " I is er miser'ble sinner, an' too 
 unfit fer Your kin'ness ter me. I is too happy, 
 Lawd," I ses, " an' I wants You to please, Sir, sen' 
 me er trial ter fetch me th'o. Sen' me trouble 
 Lawd," I cried, " sen' me trouble ! Tromp on me, 
 beat me all ter pieces, an' mash me on de groun', 
 Lawd, fer I wants ter prove my love ter Dee." 
 Well, honey, de Lawd did hyar me fum under dat 
 apple-tree, an' He sont me all de trouble I axed 
 fer, an' He tromp on me, too. 
 
 But, chile, I didn't know dat He wuz gwine ter 
 cum down on me wid bofe feets. No'm, I didn' 
 spec' dat. But He did, yas, honey, dat He did. 
 You see, I wuz under de tree uv f erbidden fruit, an' 
 [116] 
 
AUNT ROXY-ANN 
 
 He made has' fer ter punish me fer de joyments 
 uv life. 
 
 Hit wan' no time f urn de day I prayed under dat 
 apple-tree dat 'Vester 'gun ter take up wid Penny 
 Wilson an' my li'l gal wan' no mo dan two year ole 
 when he done lef me fer to lib wid 'er. Den my 
 mammy died, an' all I had lef wuz my li'l gal. I 
 named her Neuphelia Malaria Roxy-Ann, fer 'Ves- 
 ter's fus' wife, an' my mammy an' myse'f. But she 
 died, too, an' den I know'd dat dat apple-tree wuz 
 de wrong tree fer ter pray under. I done cut dat 
 tree down, honey — I cut it in de night, so nobody 
 would know who done it, an' when I prays I 'voids 
 de garden all I kin, an' don' go under no tree wid 
 fruit on it. I des goes in de bushes an' de grass. 
 Yassum, de Lawd sho' did come down on me hard, 
 an' wid bofe feets, lak I say. 
 
 But it f otched me ter de th'one uv grace. 
 
 I don' wear no mo' raid velvet hats wid yaller 
 paper flowers, an' I ain't gwine ter be de bride uv 
 no mo' grooms uv er corpse. 
 
 [117] 
 
How Sis' Mandy (an' Her 
 Dog Pinchey) Got 'ligion 
 
How Sis' Mandy (an' Her 
 Dog Pinchey) Got 'ligion 
 
 LAW, yas, chile, to be sho' I does b'lieve 
 dat dogs is got souls, to be sho' I does. 
 I never had no usen fer dogs twell I 
 owned old Pinchey, an' dat dog, honey, is er pus- 
 son, ef sense counts fer anything wid de Lawd. 
 An' den ergin, dat dog is er heap better dan some 
 pussons I knows, I kin tell you. 
 
 De way I cum ter own Pinchey wuz dis : 
 You see de times is mighty hard down hyar in 
 Alabama, whar de cotton don' fetch but five cents 
 er poun', an' I is had er mighty hard time er gittin' 
 erlong. Sometimes I kin pay de rent, an' some- 
 times I can't, an' sometimes I has braid in de ashes, 
 an' sometimes I ain't. 
 
 Well, one day I was des gittin' over er spell uv 
 de chills, an' er feelin' putty miserable an' no- 
 'count, an' I riz outer de baid an' cum to de do' an' 
 set down on de steps, an' 'gun ter steddy 'bout how 
 I gwine git som'n ter eat, kaze it ain' like it usen to 
 be befo' de wah. Ike he wuz erway pickin' cotton 
 on de yuther side uv de creek, an' I wuz all erlone 
 by myse'f , an' nobody fer ter he'p me. 
 
 [121] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 I set dar sted'n 'bout what to do, an' de f us' thing 
 I know I seed dat ve'y dog you is lookin' at stan'in' 
 right befo' me, lookin' at me. He looked at me, 
 an' I looked at him, an' pres'n'ly I say to 'im: 
 " What you want hyar, dog, I ain' got nuffin fur 
 you; you better go long to dem what you ber- 
 longs ter." Wid dat he 'gun ter wag his li'l ole 
 bob tail an' walk up closer ter me, an' I seed 
 he wuz raw bonied an' hongry lookin' lak he didn' 
 b'long ter nobody. " Whar you cum fum, dog? " 
 I say ergin, des ter be er talkin', an', honey, ef dat 
 dog didn' turn roun' an' look to'ds de crossroads, 
 I ain't er settin' hyar. 
 
 I know'd right den dat he done been turnt erway 
 by de po' niggers at de settlemint. Well, I ses out 
 loud ergin as I set dar, " Well, dog," I ses, 
 " you an' me is in de same fix. You is done been 
 driv off an' Ike, my ole man, he's done gone off an' 
 lef me, pertendin' ter be pickin' cotton over de 
 creek. I knows who he's wid over dar, I ses — an' 
 he knows better dan ter cum back hyar wid his 
 backslidin' ways. I wan' no Christian, honey, an' 
 de chu'ch members didn't come ter look after me, 
 kaze I wuz er dancer, an' hadn't come th'o." Well, 
 chile, when I sed dat, dat dog looked up de road 
 de ve'y way dat Ike would er cum, an' he wag his 
 [ 122 ] 
 
HOW SIS' MANDY GOT 'LIGION 
 
 li'l stump tail ergin an' git closer ter me dan 
 ever. 
 
 Somehow I couldn't he'p talkin' ter dat dog, he 
 look so knowin', an' he look so lonesome, des lak I 
 wuz, an' I know'd he wuz bofe hongry an' not er 
 bite did I have in de house fer ter eat. Hit 'gun 
 ter git dark, an' so I went ter de spring an' fetched 
 er bucket er fresh water, an' I picked up er few 
 sticks fer ter make up er blaze fer ter see by. 
 When I raked up de ashes an' blowed up de coles, 
 I turned roun' an' I ses to de ole dog what wuz still 
 watchin' uv me : " Ef you could go an' ketch er 
 rabbit," I ses, " or er squir'l, or sum'n," I ses, 
 " you an' me mout hab er supper," I ses. Chile, 
 dat dog what you is lookin' at right now, what I 
 calls Pinchey, he turns right erroun' an' walked 
 out uv my do', lak er pusson, an' when he cum back 
 he had er rabbit in his mouf, what he had done 
 kotch. Yassum ! I so 'stounded I fell right down 
 flat on de hV. But hit wan' many minnits 'fo' I 
 wuz eatin' dat rabbit, an' Pinchey wuz eatin' uv de 
 bones. Fum dat day me an' Pinchey is lived to- 
 ge'r, an' dat dog knows ev'y word I ses ter 'im. 
 I calls 'im Pinchey, kaze we wuz bofe in sech er 
 pinch when he cum ter me. No'm! Ike never did 
 cum back, an' ef it hadn't been fer ole Pinchey, 
 [ 123 ] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 I'd er starve' ter def 'fo' now. Dat dog goes 
 huntin' ev'y day uv his life. When possum sea- 
 son come ole Pinchey fetches possums in reg'lar, 
 an' when rabbit season come he fetches in de rabbits 
 an' de squir'ls an' de birds, an' sometimes dat dog 
 fetches er chicken an' er piece uv meat somebody 
 done give 'im roun' de settlemint somewhar. One 
 day Br'er Rastus, de preacher, cum erlong, an* 
 he ax me ef I wan' gwine jine de chu'ch; dat de 
 camp meetin' wuz gwine on at de Flatwoods 
 Chu'ch, an' he wuz hopin' I would come roun' an' 
 perfess. Dat set me ter stedin' 'bout my sins, an' 
 erbout jedgmint day some folks sed wuz not fur 
 off, an' so I 'gun ter seek. I tried ter pray, an' I 
 couldn't. I went down in de woods an' I called on 
 de Lawd, an' He wouldn' hyar me. 
 
 One day I sey ter Pinch — yas, chile, I talk ter 
 Pinch all de time, des de same as ef he wuz Ike — 
 " Pinch," I say, " ef I des could git 'ligion, an' 
 cum th'o, I wouldn' be skeered uv de debble no 
 mo'." Pinch looked at me, but he didn' say nuffin', 
 an' de nex' day dat dog never come back f um de 
 woods. Fo' days went by an' Pinchey never come ; 
 all dat time I wuz still er seekin', too, dough I 
 didn't know it. On de f ourf day, I recollec' I wuz 
 fixin' fer ter make some ley-homly. I had done 
 [124] 
 
"1 stir er way } mi 1 stir erway, all de time stediri 'bout my sins' 
 
HOW SIS' MANDY GOT 'LIGION 
 
 put de pot on ter bile wid de corn an' ashes, an' wuz 
 er stan'in' by it wid my long fire stick, stirrin' it 
 up. I stir erway, an' I stir erway all de time 
 stedin' 'bout my sins, an' 'bout de way Ike done 
 treat me, an' bymeby, while I wuz stan'in' dar, 
 Pinchey cum in fro' de do J an' laid down on de ha'f 
 an' watched me. Presen'ly all uv er suddent, I 
 gun ter feel de sperit uv peace move in my heart, 
 an' I hyard som'n speakin' ter me fro' de chimly. 
 Hit sey, " Sis' Mandy, don' grieve no mo', rerpent 
 fum yo' sins an' come th'o." Den I 'gun ter feel 
 happy, an' de nex' minnit I feel myse'f bendin' dis 
 way an' dat way wid 'motion. Den I 'gun ter 
 shout, chile, twell de ve'y flo' seem ter be er shoutin' 
 wid me. All dat time Pinchey set dar lookin' at 
 me an' whinin', but bymeby? dat dog couldn't re- 
 sis' de sperit what wuz on us, an' 'fo' de Lawd ef 
 he didn' git up off de ha'f an' 'gin ter shout right 
 wid me. De mo' I shout, de mo' he shout, twell we 
 bofe git wo' out fer de want uv strenf ter shout 
 wid. Dat night, honey, I went ter meetin' fer de 
 fus' time since Ike lef ' me. I went right up ter de 
 moaners' bench, me an' Pinchey, an' when Br'er 
 Rastus, de preacher, corned down fum de flat-form 
 fer ter hyar my spe'ance, I tole 'im 'bout Pinchey, 
 an' how me an' Pinchey done bofe come th'o tog'er. 
 [125] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 No, chile, I ain' no Mef'dis, I is er Baptis' ter my 
 skin, an' when Br'er Rastus 'mersed me in de creek, 
 I ses ter 5 im dat I want 'im ter baptize Pinchey 
 'long wid me. He say, " Sis' Mandy," he say, " I 
 kyarn' take de 'sponsibility uv baptizin' dat dog. 
 I ain' doubtin' but dat he is rightly come th'o, but 
 den I ain' never is baptized no dogs, an' I don' lak 
 ter bergin now." 
 
 " Br'er Rastus," I say, " ef you don' baptize my 
 dog wid me, you will hab er wuss 'sponsibility rest- 
 in' on yo' soul dan I would lak ter hab restin' on 
 mine," I say. 
 
 Well, honey, dat dog hyard ev'y word I sed, an' 
 he know'd des what ter do, fer de Sunday dat I 
 went in de creek I felt som'n pull me des as I come 
 up fum under de water, an' 'fo' de Lawd dar wuz 
 Pinchey done baptize hisse'f right erlong wid me. 
 Yassum, hit's des lak I tell you. Dat dog got sense 
 lak er pusson, an' me an' Pinch is bofe Christians, 
 an' we bofe 'spec' ter live ergin when we dies. 
 
 [J26] 
 
Mammy's Receipt for Mak- 
 ing Alabama Velvets 
 
^ jr-— ■ Ja-y 
 
 Mammy's Receipt for Mak- 
 ing Alabama Velvets 
 
 LAWD, chile ! you ax me how ter make 
 Dat li'l velvet batter cake. 
 Why, Honey, hit's er magic art, 
 What comes right f'um yo' Mammy's heart. 
 
 You takes er loaf uv braid dat's stale, 
 An' den de velvets cannot fail; 
 You puts it in er pau'clin pan 
 An' covers wid hot milk at han'. 
 
 You mus' not use no stuff ter rize, 
 No powder what you puts in pize ; 
 Des take two aigs an' beat 'urn well, 
 An' when de braid begins ter swell 
 
 You peels de crus' what's brown an' hard, 
 An' adds er pinch uv nakey lard, 
 Or butter, what I mos'ly use, 
 An' salt, ter give er tas'e, infuse. 
 
 Den put into de batter dough 
 A li'l flour, white es snow ; 
 
 [129] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Den take yo' spoon an' beat an' beat 
 For dat's what makes 'um good ter eat. 
 
 Now, when de dough gits sof es cream, 
 So smoove an' velvety hit seem, 
 You puts it in er li'l cake 
 Right on de fryin' pan ter bake. 
 
 Hit only takes er minit's time 
 Ter make 'um crisp an' brown an' fine ; 
 An' eve'y mouf what lubs ter eat 
 Gwine smack fer joy; dey tas'e so sweet. 
 
 Ain' nuffin' on dis yearth so gran' 
 As Alabama velvets; an' 
 Jes' you tas'e 'um, den you'll know 
 Ole Mammy said, she toV you so. 
 
 Now, wid dese 'greegints, I mus' tell 
 You how ter work de magic spell, 
 Fer ef ter have de right success 
 An' make 'um lak ole Mammy's bes' 
 
 You sho' mus' know de conger art 
 What Mammy keeps right in her heart- 
 Hit's f 'um de blessed scripter book — 
 " She lubs ter eat — she lubs ter cook" 
 [130] 
 
T^CT — — — J^T 
 
 Go ter Sleep on Mammy's 
 Bre's' 
 
Go to Sleep ox Mammy's Bres'. 
 
 (A Plantation Cradle Song.) 
 
 Words and Music by Martha S Gielctt. 
 
 P 
 
 Andante espress e pateiico. 
 
 * " * * 
 
 When de pine trees 'gin 
 
 sigh-in* to de daylight what's dy in'. .Mummy's ba - by 'gins cry-in" for to 
 
 a tempo. 
 
 Refrain, pp , accel ^ a tempo. 
 
 rock on Mam-my'y bres.. Go to sleep. li"l ba - by. Go to sleep, li'l 
 
 accel. ^ a tempo, 
 
 -e>- 
 
 pp colla 
 voce. 
 
 Copyright. 1902. by Martha S. Cielow. 
 
seemin', In de smile what is beamiif, On de babe dats now dieamin', Fas' er - 
 
 a tempo 
 
 Refrain. accel. ppp 
 pp 
 
 sleep on Mammy's bres', Go to sleep li'l ba - by, Go to sleep, li' 
 
 "p^-^ 8va 
 
 _$g- \m*i ,4:g: s U^--h£L-& 
 
 pp 
 
 colla voce. 
 
 :±: 
 
 1— 
 
 acceZ. rt tempo. 
 
 ba - by, Go to sleep on Mammy's bres'. 
 , loco. 
 
 Go to sleep. 4—4. 
 
Go ter Sleep on Mammy's 
 BreV 
 
 WHEN de pine trees 'gin sighin' 
 Ter de daylight what's dyin', 
 Mammy's baby 'gins cryin' 
 Fer ter rock on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 When de moonlight 'gins shinin' 
 On de hearts what is pinin', 
 Mammy's ba-by 'gins whinin' 
 Fer ter rock on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 When de shadders 'gin tallin' 
 An' de jew-draps 'gin fallin', 
 Den de Angels 'gin callin' 
 Ter de lam' on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 [ 133 ] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Chorus. 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep on Mammy's bre's\ 
 
 'Tis de Hebben-light what's seemin' 
 In de smile what is beamin' 
 On de babe dat's now dreamin', 
 Fas' er sleep on Mammy's breV. 
 
 Chorus. 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep, li'l ba-by, 
 Go ter sleep on Mammy's bre's'. 
 
 [ 134] 
 
"Go ter sleep, IV I baby, 
 Go ter sleep, It I baby, 
 
 Go ter sleep on Mammy's bre's ' 
 
Mammy's Luck Charm fer 
 de Bride 
 
^^-^ Bl^l^l^^^l^^l^ ^ ^^^ ^^^ ^l ^ ^^^^l^^ ^ ^^ll^ll^^ ^ ^ll^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^► 
 
 Mammy's Luck Charm fer 
 de Bride 
 
 (Dedicated to a Chicago Bride.) 
 
 HYAR, honey, take dis little gif 
 An' place it nigh yo' heart, 
 'Twill keep erway dat littP rif ' 
 What causes folks ter part. 
 
 Hit's only des er rabbit-toe, 
 
 But den, de luck it brings 
 Is wuf er million dimes an' mo' 
 
 'An all de weddin' rings ! 
 
 Be sho' you wear it in yo' bre's', 
 
 Pertic'lar on de day 
 De preacher come ter pray an' bless 
 
 An' jine yo' han's ter stay. 
 
 Des' keep it, honey, an' you'll fine 
 
 Hit hoi's er magic spell 
 Ter make yo' lover true an' kine 
 
 An' han'some, des es well. 
 
 [137] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Er rabbit foot what's congered right 
 
 Lak dis un is, I know, 
 Will make you always glad an' bright 
 
 An' good an' putty, sho\ 
 
 [ 138 ] 
 
Aig- Braid 
 
1JU1II1III1MBIII1I111IIIIMIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIH— I— IIW— — J' ~1_ 
 
 Aig-Braid 
 
 LAWD, yassum, dat's what Mistis said, 
 Dat I could beat 'urn all 
 At makin' cms' an' biskit braid. 
 An' rolls what wouldn't fall. 
 
 But le' me tell vou what's de bes', 
 
 Fer eve'ybody say 
 Dat breakfas' aig-braid beat de res' 
 
 Fer eatin' any day. 
 
 Why, chile, hit is de " starff uv life," 
 
 Dat what de Good-book tell, 
 An' eve'y cook what's in de strife 
 
 Will say so, des as well. 
 
 An' you does s'prise me when you ax 
 
 My bes' rerceep fer pies! 
 Why, honey, hifalutin' things 
 
 Don' never take no prize! 
 
 Dem consequencious puffs an' cakes 
 
 Ain' fltten fer ter eat, 
 An' dem presumious tarts I bakes 
 
 Is too pompacious sweet. 
 
 [141] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Don' ax me nuffin 'bout sich trash, 
 
 Fer Ps er higeen cook 
 An' dat assumious puddin' hash 
 
 Is only fer dey look. 
 
 Now ef you wants de proper dish 
 Fer healf an' tas'e an' ease, 
 
 You'll hab de aig-braid fer yo? wish. 
 An' hit will sho'ly please. 
 
 You takes er pint uv Injun meal, 
 
 An' sif it in er pan, 
 An' add er pint uv buttermilk, 
 
 An' fo' aigs — ef you can. 
 
 Sometimes I uses one or two, 
 
 But fo 9 is always bes', 
 An' den you add er spoon uv lard, 
 
 An' stir in wid de res'. 
 
 Er cup uv hom'ly what is cole 
 Adds might'ly ter de tas'e, 
 
 An' he'ps de lightness, so I's tele 
 An' saves er heap uv was'e. 
 
 Er pinch uv soda in er spoon 
 You puts in wid de milk, 
 [ 142 ] 
 
AIG-BRAID 
 
 An' beat it well till ve'y soon 
 ? Twill seem es smoove es silk. 
 
 You heat yo' pan twell nice an' hot, 
 An' smear it well wid grease, 
 
 (Er spoon uv melted lard I mean,) 
 Ter brown dat aig-braid f eas'. 
 
 Hit only takes er little while 
 Ter bake it well an' done, 
 
 Des twenty minits ter er smile, 
 By any clock dat's run. 
 
 An' sich er breakf as' you will hab, 
 'Twill fill you wid surprise, 
 
 An' shame dem gim-crack fancy puffs, 
 What's aimin' fer de prize. 
 
 Dem sickly, sweet usurpeous pies, 
 Dat hashed up " tuckle " stew, 
 
 Dem " angel cakes " I sho' despise, 
 An' " Injun puddin' " too. 
 
 Des' gi' me aig-braid eve'y time, 
 Hit's hardes', too, ter make, 
 
 An' mighty tick'lish, you will fine, 
 'Bout sp'ilin' in de bake. 
 
 [ 143 ] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Des' gi' me aig-braid eve'y time, 
 Des' aig-braid night an' day, 
 
 Dat braid usurpeous an' fine, 
 What's come ter bide an' stay. 
 
 [ 144 ] 
 
De Chris'mus Baby 
 
De Chris'mus Baby 
 
 Dedicated to Little Robert Joyce Newhottse. 
 
 H USHER-BY an' le 5 me sing 
 Er ole-time song uv happy joy, 
 Fer Santy Claus is done an 5 bring 
 Er precious li'l baby boy. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Halleluyah! Le' me sing 
 
 My bes' cosanthum, des' fer joy, 
 
 An' let dem Chris'mus chu'ch-bells ring 
 Fer Mammy's li'l baby boy. 
 
 Husher-by, you blessed chile, 
 
 Go right ter sleep, go right ter res', 
 De angels up in Hebben smile 
 
 On dy sweet face on Mammy's breV. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Halleluyah! Le' me sing 
 
 My bes 9 cosanthum, des' fer joy, 
 
 An' let dem Chris'mus chu'ch-bells ring 
 Fer Mammy's li'l baby boy. 
 
 [147] 
 
^gg«— — — — ■— — JtTT 
 
 Little Sweet Ladie 
 
Little Sweet Ladie 
 
 dedicated to 
 Little Edith Richmond Barnard. 
 
 S 
 
 WEET li'l ladie, 
 
 Expected so long, 
 Come le' me hoi' you 
 
 An' sing you er song ; 
 All 'bout de birdies 
 
 Way up in dey nes', 
 Sweet li'l ladie, 
 
 Come rock on my bre's'. 
 
 Sweet li'l ladie 
 
 I'm glad you is here, 
 You is so precious, 
 
 So dainty an' dear, 
 Des' lak de birdies 
 
 Way up in de nes', 
 Sweet li'l ladie, 
 
 Come rock on my bre's'. 
 
 Sweet li'l ladie 
 
 Wid hebbenly eyes, 
 Smiles lak de angels 
 
 Way up in de skies, 
 [151] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Come coo lak de birdies 
 Way up in dey nes', 
 
 Sweet li'l ladie, 
 
 Come coo on my bre's\ 
 
 [152] 
 
VW.. : 
 
 On My Journey Home 
 
On My Journey Home 
 
 MY long white robe come down ter my toes, 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 My long white robe come down ter my 
 toes, 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey, journey home, 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Er hebbenly crown is on my haid, 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 Er hebbenly crown is on my haid, 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey, journey home, 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 [155] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Er golden harp is in my han', 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 Er golden harp is in my han', 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey, journey home, 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 I'll reach dat blessed res' at las', 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 De Saviour, he will hoi' me fas', 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey, journey home, 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 Come shout, you Christians, you is free, 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 Er starry crown fer you an' me, 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 [156] 
 
ON MY JOURNEY HOME 
 
 Chorus. 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey, journey home. 
 Hail! Hail! Hail! 
 
 I'm on my journey home. 
 
 [157] 
 
X LWI— "■■■I I ■IIIHIMIW—IIMIMIWIIMI^MIIHIIBIWII— » P II J. _ 
 
 T'C.C , 
 
 Come Ring dem Charmm' 
 Bells 
 
Come Ring dem Charmin' 
 Bells 
 
 I'M goin' home ter die no mo', 
 I'm goin' home ter die no mo', 
 I'm goin' home ter die no mo', 
 An' ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 0 ! Come, my brothers, 
 
 Ef you wants ter git ter Hebben 
 Fer ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 0 ! Come, my fr'en's, an' go wid me, 
 Come, my fr'en's, an' go wid me, 
 0 ! Come, my fr'en's, an' go wid me, 
 Fer ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 O! Come, my sisters, 
 
 Ef you wants ter git ter Hebben 
 Fer ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 0 ! Won't you come an' go wid me, 
 Won't you come an' go wid me, 
 0 ! Won't you come an' go wid me, 
 Fer ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 [161] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Come, my chillun, 
 
 Ef you wants ter git ter Hebben 
 Per ter ring dem charmin' bells. 
 
 [162] 
 
Wheel in de Middle o' de 
 Wheel 
 

 
 Wheel in de Middle o' 
 Wheel 
 
 WE see Zek'l prophetsy, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 We see Zek'l prophetsy, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 0 ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Zek'l 'clar he saw de wheel, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Gre't big wheel an' a little bit o' wheel, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 0 ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Eve'y spoke wuz human kine, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Eve'y spoke wuz human kine, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 0 ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 0 ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 [165] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 In de valley, 'mongst dem bones, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel, 
 
 In de valley, 'mongst dem bones, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Zek'l say will dese bones live? 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Zek'l say will dese bones live? 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Lawd, my Lawd, yas, You do know, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel, 
 
 Ef dese bones will rise er no, 
 Wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 O ! wheel, wheel in de middle o' de wheel. 
 
 [166] 
 
Plantation Funeral Song 
 
Plantation Funeral Song 
 
 -1- ▼ My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 Go all roun' an' j'ine de army, 
 Go all roun' an' j'ine de army, 
 
 Go all roun' an' j'ine de army, 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 Chorus. 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
 Is gone, is gone ! 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 We'll see 'im ergin on Canaan's sho', 
 We'll see 'im ergin on Canaan's sho', 
 
 We'll see 'im ergin on Canaan's sho', 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 Y li'l ba-by is gone, 
 Is gone, is gone ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
 Is gone, is gone ! 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 He'll git ter Hebben an' tell de news, 
 He'll git ter Hebben an' tell de news, 
 
 He'll git ter Hebben an' tell de news, 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
 Is gone, is gone! 
 My li'l ba-by is gone, 
 
 Let us j'ine de social ban'. 
 
 [170] 
 
Oh, Lawd, ain' dem Lobely 
 
Oh, Lawd, ain' dem Lobely 
 
 DE king uv de Jews he wuz Phareo, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 Moses begged dat de Jews might go, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Chorus, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Phareo would not set dem free, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Followed dem ter dat Red Sea, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Chorus, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 De Jews dey went thoo de sea dry shod, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Phareo was drownded by de han' of God, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 [173] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 De Jews dey wuz a stubbin race, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 De Lawd f 'um dem did hide his face, 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Fifty yeahs in de wilderness, 
 See all dem angels robed in white! 
 Moses an' de J ews did res', 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 Oh, Lawd, ain' dem lobely, 
 
 See all dem angels robed in white ! 
 [174] 
 
Oh, Ma'y, don' you Weep 
 
Oh, Ma'y, don' you Weep 
 
 MA'Y wo' de golden chain, 
 Eve'y link wuz Jesus' name, 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep an' don' you moan, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep o'er de Lawd, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Jesus rode de horse uv death, 
 
 Eighteen arrows in his bre's', 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Chorus, 
 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep an' don' you moan, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep o'er de Lawd, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Holy Ghos', Holy Ghos', talkin' in de air, 
 
 Holy Ghos', Holy Ghos', ter talk it out fair, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 [177] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep an' don' you moan, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep o'er de Lawd, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Moses, take yo' shoes off an' hide yo' face, 
 De groun' whar you stan'in's er holy place, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep an' don' you moan, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep o'er de Lawd, 
 
 Phareo's army got drownded, 
 An' Ma'y, don' you weep. 
 
 [178] 
 
Note by the Author 
 
Note by the Author 
 
 IN writing the dialect of Old Plantation Days 
 I have endeavored to make the spelling as sim- 
 ple as possible, so that it may be read more 
 easily by those unacquainted with the " Mammy " 
 tongue. 
 
 While I am aware that the abbreviation of words 
 ending in " d " is mostly used and is mainly cor- 
 rect, it is nevertheless less expressive to those unac- 
 quainted with the pronunciation of the dialect than 
 the substitution of the letter " e," and not so easy 
 or helpful to those who are; nor do the words cut 
 off with an apostrophe convey to the mind of the 
 reader that soft, indefinable drawl which we are en- 
 deavoring to reproduce and which, after all, is the 
 chief charm of the dialect, as in the sound of a word 
 ended with the " e." 
 
 For instance, " child " abbreviated " chil' 99 looks 
 like " chill; 99 and " mind," " min'," like " minn; 99 
 and "bind," "bin'," like "binn;" "blind," 
 " blinV like " blinn," " cold," " col'," like " coll," 
 etc., etc., and, unless the reader is perfectly famil- 
 iar with the dialect, the sweet, tender cadence is 
 necessarily lost. 
 
 [181] 
 
OLD PLANTATION DAYS 
 
 To me the " e " sound is so perceptible in the 
 spoken language that I find when writing it that 
 my pen glides unconsciously into putting the " e " 
 in the place of the "d" — that the words should look 
 as they sound. Yes, the rhythm of the accent 
 seems to speak out to me from the very pages as I 
 write, and I seem to hear the lingering softness of 
 my Mammy's voice as distinctly as the memory of 
 a note of music held in pressure with the soft 
 pedal, " Gard bless dat chile." The " e," there- 
 fore, seems indispensable to me. 
 
 Having studied the language very thoroughly 
 both from nature and under the guidance of Mr. 
 Henry Gaines Hawn, to whose competent instruc- 
 tion I owe my success as an interpreter and reader, 
 I feel justified in writing my dialect as simply as I 
 have endeavored to speak it from the platform. I 
 try never to misspell a word unnecessarily, and 
 while I sometimes use " des 99 and then " jes 99 in the 
 same page, and am, therefore, seemingly not always 
 uniform in spelling of the same word, I am never- 
 theless writing it as I speak it in recitation, true to 
 nature, for the negro changes from " des " to 
 " jes 99 as often and unconsciously as the euphony 
 of the word seems most agreeable to the ear. Plan- 
 tation dialect, as heard from the lips of the Mam- 
 [182] 
 
NOTE BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 my now passing, will soon be a dead language; 
 the musical rhythm and tender pathos we shall try 
 in vain to reproduce. Hence my desire to put as 
 much of the tone into each word of my written in- 
 terpretations as can be conveyed by the method of 
 simple spelling. Again I would like to explain to 
 my readers, that the negro race is the most relig- 
 ious of all people, and that their constant use of 
 the Lord's name is neither disrespectful nor irrelig- 
 ious — but comes from their daily familiarity of 
 appealing to Him as a person ever present to hear 
 and see their joys, their woes, and their prayers. 
 
 Martha S. Gielow. 
 
 [183] 
 
Date Due 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 8ARAug72 
 
 
 
 
 Jail 22*35 P 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 OApRCj wn 
 
 \jMi\r\LL lw 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1