Virginia Frazer Boyle

“ A dozen little negroes clamor for the lines, and with a friendly nod to them the autocrat of autocrats gives his hand to “Ole Miss,” who is standing at the open door.
“Ole Marse” sits with him in the library below, talking in subdued tones and joining now and again in a familiar julep, brought, at regular intervals, cold and dewy, by the serving man, Cæsar. And “Young Marse,” with his head upon his hand, every nerve strained to its tension, looks idly through the window upon the pulsing life without. ”

“ Again it is “the dark of the moon,” and Satan is abroad in the “Quarters,” and the good hoodoo who must beat the devil at his own game is working wonders against him as he “splits the wind.” “Ole Cinder Cat” sits by the hearth nightly, and the “devil’s little fly” buzzes audibly in wondering childish ears.
The same old stories, ever witching, ever new, to the same old chorus—“Tell another, Mammy!” ”

“ No one knew exactly how the Other Maumer roused the Quarters that night. Some said that she came on bat wings and fluttered against the chimney as she cried. Others said that she came on a great horse that struck fire with his hoofs as she beat upon each door with her hickory stick. Though to all the message was the same: “Fly, fly ter de ribber an’ fetch [Pg 153] de soul er Cindy’s baby!” But the latter part of the admonition was lost in the weirdness of the command, and the frightened negroes tumbled out of their warm beds, wide awake for once. ”

“ The now soiled and torn broadcloth, even upon its spare ebon rack, still held the Judge’s outline in its creases. Ludicrously pitiful the picture, and the crowd swayed and murmured.
The Judge rose to his feet. He was thinking of green fields and boyish days, of the clear brook beyond the pasture, of the pair of honest black feet that had timed their pace to his. ”

“ The whole plantation rang next day with the loss of the curious box, an heirloom and a [Pg 72] token from Marse Charles to Demetria; but the box was not found, and Marse Charles wandered about, pale and ill at ease, for the little fly did not return.
The narrative of the dusky story-teller does not falter at this juncture, for there were always three pairs of eager eyes that were burning into hers. “Zacheus was the hoodoo—the good hoodoo who could steal souls back from the devil!” sang the chorus. ”

“ Now, by way of practice, the devil had conquered the “Quarters” of a great plantation, even to every soul, with the exception of an old mammy and a certain Zacheus who was very cautious, and was preparing plans for the “Big House,” when something went wrong with the eternal fire below, and the devil was besought to depart in haste. ”

“ So they set the wedding-night, and Bithie’s old man, under the spell of the devil in Unc’ Caspar’s skin, stole four hogs and three sheep from Ole Marse, and made a great barbecue for the wedding-supper.
But ’Liza wept that the time was drawing near, for in her heart she loved Amaziah. Then the devil, in Unc’ Caspar’s skin, raised a heavier mist and showed her greater treasures than Unc’ Caspar had done, until her tears were dried, for ’Liza was part covetous and part hoodoo, said Mammy. ”

“ Still swaying and singing, every movement consorting with the rhythm of the chant, she bared her shapely body to the waist, whirling now above her head and now about her knees a cluster of rude castanets swung by a leather thong.
At each revolution, accompanied by a high note in the wail, the rough edges of the shells cut sharply into the steaming flesh. ”

“ All yo’ hatter do is ter foller uv her, ’case I’se fixed her so’s she gotter sarve yo’; an’ den when yo’ sees what yo’ lookin’ fur, lay de grape-vine on, quick an’ fas’, ’case hain’t nuffin ail Solon but dat yaller hoodoo!”
It was turning twelve when Old Cinder Cat rose from the hearth, and, stretching herself, bounded through the doorway. Juno woke with a start.
“Um! Juno better be gwine too. Mighty fine business fur her ter be in, long er hoodoos an’ Ole Cinder, but she sho’ gwine wid ’em dis time, mun!” ”

“ De body lif’ t’other arm; but de branch done plum dry now; an’ Unc’ ’Jah he riz wid he charm an’ jump ’cross an’ lay he han’s on de body; an’ de debil he pull, an’ Unc’ ’Jah he pull; but de debil cain’t work ’gin’ Unc’ ’Jah’s charm; an’ he howls lack er dog fur ter skeer Unc’ ’Jah off, but Unc’ ’Jah ain’t skeered; an’ he bark lack er wolf, but Unc’ ’Jah know him; an’ he roar lack er lion an’ holler lack er mad bull, but Unc’ ’Jah keep he han’ wid de charm in hit on de body. ”

“ But arter while de cat kim er-sneakin’ erlong, wid he eyes des er-shinin’ white an’ red an’ green, lack de fox-fire in de swamp. When he sees ’Lish, he quoil he tail keerful lack an’ sot down an’ look at him erwhile, an’ he look an’ look, so knowin’, twel hit mek de goose bumps fa’r riz up on ’Lish’s back; den he git tired er settin’, an’ whisk dat ole long tail er his’n at ’Lish an’ go on inter de spring-house, des er darin’ ’Lish ter foller. ”

“ But when de mornin’ kim dar wa’n’t no cat dar, dead er ’live, an’ Ole Marse laff an’ say dat ’Lish been er-dreamin’, but Ole Miss she git sorter mad an’ r’ar ’counter de tale dat ’Lish tell dat he kill de cat.
“Well, ’Lish, he hain’t no skeery nigger, he gittin’ smart lack de white folks; so next night he sets er dead-fall fur de cat, made outen heaby timber, an’ he sees de trigger spring an’ de dead-fall drap, ’bang!’ plum on de cat, ’fore he leabe dar. But in de mornin’ dar wa’n’t no cat ner dead-fall nuther dar, an’ de cream done gone ergin. ”

“ Unc’ ’Jah workin’ yit, an’ bimeby de stranger ain’ kim ter see de gal no mo’; but er tarrypin foller her, an’ stay by her when she work, an’ listen when she talk, an’ hit ’ten’ ter be ersleep; but when she ain’ look at hit, hit snap at her toes wid hits ugly mouf, an’ she cain’t dribe hit off. An’ bimeby she shivers, den taken hit up in her lap, ’case hit de debil an’ he mek her do hit; an’ dat tarrypin hit bite de blood outen her arm, ’case she b’long ter him an’ he got her promus; an’ she were so po’ly dat she gitten right scrawny. ”

“ Think I gwine hab Cage layin’ roun’ here in de shade er w’arin’ er broadclorf ever’ day—an’ Ole Marse ain’ do dat—an’ er-settin’ up [Pg 32] he ole foots ter be fanned lack dey was sumpen, an’ dey es big es all out-doo’s, an’ he er-pesterin’ me ’bout he fried chicken fur dinner lack he were white—an’ dey sen’ hit ter him, too. My Lord! Um—Ole Marse done los’ he head ter ’low dat; but I hain’t los’ mine, sho mun, and I gwine git eben wid Cage. Talkin’ ’bout freedom dis an’ freedom dat, an’ erlowin’ dat hit sumpen dat Milly cain’t git. ”

“ The hoodoo threw a chip at a great toad that was napping in an old shoe beside the hearth, and, shaking the ashes from her pipe, she refilled it from her pocket. “Hain’t nuffin ter ole Ysbel, gal—her day done ober; she don’ claim no man, dead ner libin’! But I done tole yo’ ’bout dat yaller gal, hain’t I? Yo’ done seed her wid you’ own eyes, hain’t yo’? An’ I done tole yo’ how ter git shet uv her. Hain’t [Pg 17] my keerin’, but if yo’ don’ wanter know no mo’ ’bout her, yo’ des tote dem moon year-bobs back home wid yo’!” ”

“ But dar’s one thing dat yo’ kin put in yo’ pipe an’ smoke; we’s all got our match somers, dar’s sumpen gwine ter ketch up wid de fastes’, [Pg 186] an’ dat why de black cat ’ain’ show no fight ’gin er rope.
“Well, ’Lish he tightens de noose an’ fling de eend er de rope ober de swingin’ fork, an’ tie hit dar, an’ sot an’ wait. De cat he grin an’ grin at ’Lish; he kin see de teef by de light er de eyes dat des shoot sparks, an’ hit ’pear lack dem eyes des charm ’Lish lack er snake, fur his’n plum sot on de cat’s, an’ he cain’t tek ’em off. ”

“ THE BLACK CAT
Daddy Mose had been counsellor, soothsayer, and leading exhorter to the whole of the dusky population of Piney ever since the close of the war. It was said that in emergencies the white people themselves could not do without him; for the year that the worms were so bad in the bolls even Colonel Preston had sent for Daddy Mose and had a private consultation with him, and the result was that the Colonel’s was the only cotton in the Bend that was worth picking in the fall. ”

“ I’s ’bleeged ter you, Ole Marse, ’deed I is, but I wants you ter take hit back. I’s nuffin but er fool nigger, Ole Marse, an’ ’fore Gord I hain’t gwine cut up no mo’! I’se got all I want ’dout freedom, an’ I gwine be thankful fur hit!”
Micajah paused expectantly; there was a silence, which was broken by the master’s firm voice.
“I am a man of my word, Micajah. I have promised you a month of freedom, and you have accepted it; I cannot take it back until the time is out. Stop your foolishness, and go and make the best of it.” And Ole Marse rode away. ”

“ Yo’ cain’t tech her on you’ own, no matter what happin, ’case she kin ’do’ yo’ den, an’ she’s de bestes’ hoodoo in dis kentry, ’ceptin’ ole Ysbel, fur all dat she’s on’y er gal. Don’ yo’ say nuffin ter-night at de bre’k-down, ner do nuffin, but yo’ gwine ter see sights, if you does what I tells yo’. Mek lack ter Solon dat yo’ hain’t gwine sho’ ’nough, dat yo’ ailin’ er sumpen, an’ let him gin out dat he gwine ter see his daddy. Yo’ lay low twel yo’ hears dem fiddles des er-talkin’ in de middle er de night, des ’fore dey sarve de supper; den yo’ tek you’ foot in you’ han’ an’ git down dar ”

“ One hain’t no betterer dan tuther ter er nigger. Dey bofe on ’em lies ter er nigger, an’ hit hain’t nuffin but miz’ry. Dey don’ ’spec’ me no mo’; dey don’ lis’en ter me talk no mo’. Eben Milly, my ole ’oman—dat I gwine frail ’din er inch uv her life when I gits shet er freedom—done lay er spell on me: I kin feel hit in my bones. Eben de little nigger what tote de palm-leaf fan done talk sass ter me, an’ I ’low I cain’t stan’ hit! ”

“ Dey flewed so high dat dey could see down folks’ chimblies; an’ ’pear lack dar wa’n’t no tops on de houses, fur de debil were ’long an’ he onkiver ’em, lack he do ever’ night, an’ Unc’ ’Jah see de white folks, des what dey doin’, some uv ’em ’sleep, some uv ’em drinkin’, some uv ’em dancin’, an’ some uv ’em playing cards, an’ er-doin’ all kinds er devilment dey think nobody kin see—stranglin’ wid ropes, an’ killin’ in de dark, an’ sech lack; but Unc’ ’Jah he ain’t say nuffin, ’case hit wa’n’t none er his business. ”

“ But de stranger say de debil do de mos’ tore-down things es er fly, ’case he kin go ever’whar, an’ walk on de ceiling top side down des er-seein’ things dat’s hid, an’ he kin git erroun’ faster ’n de man, an’ fas’ ergin es de sarpent, an’ er hundred times es fas’ es de tarrypin. He taken de tarrypin so’s ter git de ’scusin’ er movin’ slow. Well, Unc’ ’Jah he don’ pay no ’tention ter de prophesyin’ an’ de churchin’, ’case he do he own prophesyin’ an’ workin’, so he des lay low an’ keep still.
“‘Bout dat time Unc’ ’Jah’s boy Rube he go co’tin’ de putties’ nigger gal dat ebber were borned ”

“ Bimeby de cat git ernough an’ sneak out ergin, an’ look ’Lish plum in de eyes an’ grin es he passes.
“In de mornin’ ’Lish he go up ter de Big House, an’ Ole Miss brag on him fur bein’ smart ernough to fin’ de t’ief, an’ she say dat some un gotter kill de black cat.
“Now, white folks ain’ lack niggers—I mean de ole-time niggers. Dey hain’t got de ole ’he sense’ dat de niggers is got, an’ wid dey book-larnin’ an’ dey fine clo’se an’ things, hit ’pear lack dey done furgit what folks kin do an’ what dey cain’t, ’case nobody kin do des what dey pleases ”

“ Solon’s er good man; he wouldn’ be no kin ter me if he wa’n’t!—fur he’s des hoodooed an’ hain’t ’sponsible. But soon’s de sap’s riz you git yo’ er good big piece er green grape-vine an’ lay fur de ’oman, an’ hit her wid hit unbeknownst; ’case if she know yo’ arter her, she’ll go er mighty long piece outen her way ter git shet er yo’, fur de grape-vine sho’ brek de charm—hain’t no hoodoo kin mek er stan’ ’gin yo’ if you hit ’em wid er grape-vine when de sap’s up; but be [Pg 12] mighty sho’ she’s stan’in’ on her own groun’ when yo’ hits her. ”

“ Well, dar ain’ nobody kin kill dat snake wid er stick, an’ dar ain’ nobody dat kin shoot hit wid er gun, ’case dey done try, an’ all de time dat sarpent des er-thinnin’ dat gal’s blood lack er man-eatin’ bat, when here kim Unc’ ’Jah down in de fiel’, an’ he taken de gun fum he shoulder an’ wipe de sweat offen him, ’case hit were hot. ”

“ Well, Unc’ ’Jah he do so lack de bat dat he most furgit whedder he er bat er no, ’case he do dey ways an’ know dey talk ’dout steddyin’ uv hit; but bimeby de debil he git tired er dodgin’ Unc’ ’Jah, ’case he done lef’ dat body so long already dat he know hit dry up an’ crack, lack clay in de sun, an’ he know he gwine hab er power er trouble ter git back inter hit; an’ he see de dodgin’ ain’t do no good, an’ ’pear lack he lef’ dat body ’cross de branch, so he mek de kin’ er breeze blow up dat allus mek Unc’ ’Jah powerful sleepy. ”

“ Well, dat body er de debil were er long way off, fur dey flewed an’ dey flewed, an’ rin ergin mo’ quare critters in de air dat ’pear ter be some ’quaintance er de bat, an’ he stop ter say ’howdy’ ter. Dey rin ergin all kinds er owls, an’ de bat ’pear ter be mighty thick wid ’em, an’ fum de things dey talks ter one nuther in de dark, Unc’ ’Jah think they mout be kin. ”

“ Now er black cat won’t holler when yo’ hangs him, if hit er rale black cat, ’case hit’s mostly de debil dat is er-w’arin’ uv er black cat’s skin when he wanter ’do erbout,’ ’case he know no hones’-minded pusson is gwine ter dribe erway er cat. So de debil he set by de warm hearth, in de skin er de black cat, an’ purr an’ purr, an’ hear all de secrets er de fambly, an’ things dat passes twixt man an’ man an’ man an’ wife, ’dout anybody tekin’ notice; an’ dat how things go singin’ roun’ an’ dar hain’t nobody tole ’em. ”

“ Ole Miss she ain’ lack de way things is gwine on, an’ she ’low one day dat we all was mighty po’ niggers, dat cain’t ketch sech er low-down t’ief, an’ Dave he was so mizerbul an’ po’ly, ’case he’s feared de big meetin’ close ’dout he gittin’ ’ligion, dat Brer Jonas he say fur Dave ter leabe Pomp in de Quarters, so’s he kin wrastle erlone wid de sperit down by de spring-house. ”