Louise Clarke Pyrnelle

“ The younger negroes were laughing and chatting in groups outside the door, but the older ones wore very solemn countenances, and walked gravely in and up to the very front pews. On Mammy’s arrival, she placed the little girls in seats at the back of the house, and left Dilsey and Chris and Riar on the seat just behind them, “fur ter min’ em’,” as she said (for the children must always be under the supervision of somebody) , and then she went to her accustomed place at the front; for Mammy was one of the leading members, and sat in the amen corner. ”

“ The winter was always a great season with the children; Mammy would let them have so many candy-stews, and they parched “goobers” in the evenings, and Aunt Milly had to make them so many new doll’s clothes, to “keep them quiet,” as Dumps said; and such romps and games as they would have in the old nursery! ”

“ The children were as much excited over it as the negroes were and Mammy could hardly keep them still enough to dress them, they were so eager to be off. Major and Mrs. Waldron were to go in the light carriage, but the little folks were to go with Mammy and Aunt Milly in the spring-wagon, along with the baskets of provisions for the “white folks’ tables;” the bread and vegetables and cakes and pastry for the negroes’ tables had been sent off in a large wagon, and were at the place for the barbecue long before the white family started from home. The negroes, too, had all gone. ”

“ She lifted her now to her shoulders, and, throwing her head up and snorting like a horse, started off in a canter to the house; while Diddie and Dumps, and Chris and Riar, and Agnes and Frances followed on behind, all barking like dogs, and making believe that Tot was going hunting and they were the hounds.
“See, Mammy, here’s Agnes and Polly and Frances,” said Diddie, as they entered the nursery; “mamma let us have them, and they are to stay here a long time and play Injuns with us.” ”

“ The children enjoyed the dancing even more than they had the playing, and Diddie and Dumps and Tot and all of the little darkies were patting their hands and singing “Cotton-eyed Joe” at the very top of their voices, when Mammy appeared upon the scene, and said it was time to go home.
“No, Mammy,” urged Dumps; “we ain’t er goin’ ter; we want ter sing ‘Cotton-eyed Joe,” hit ain’t late.”
“Umph-humph! dat’s jes wat I ’lowed,” said Mammy. “I ’lowed yer wouldn’t be willin’ fur ter go, er set’n’ hyear an’ er patt’n’ yer han’s same ez niggers, an’ er singin’ uv reel chunes ”

“ The land is just lying there useless, worthless; and the squirrels play in and out among the trees, and the mocking-birds sing in the honeysuckles and magnolias and rose-bushes where the front yard used to be. ”

“ Ef I was writin’ er book, I wouldn’t have no boys in it.”
“There’s boun’ ter be boys in it, Dumps; you can’t write a book without’n boys;” and Diddie seated herself, and opened the book before her, while Dumps, with her elbows on the table and face in her hands, looked on anxiously. “I’m not goin’ ter write jes one straight book,” said Diddie; “I’m goin’ ter have little short stories, an’ little pieces of poetry, an’ all kin’ of things; an’ I’ll name one of the stories ‘Nettie Herbert:’ don’t you think that’s a pretty name, Dumps?” ”

“ PLANTATION GAMES
“Mammy, the quarter folks are goin’ ter play to-night; can’t we go look at ’em?” pleaded Diddie one Saturday evening, as Mammy was busy sorting out the children’s clothes and putting them away.
“Yer allers want ter be ’long er dem quarter-folks,” said Mammy. “Dem ain’t de ’soshuts fur you chil’en.”
“We don’t want ter ’soshate with ’em, Mammy; we only want ter look at ’em play ‘Monkey Moshuns’ and ‘Lipto’ and ‘The Lady You Like Best,’ and hear Jim pick the banjo, and see ’em dance; can’t we go? PLEASE! It’s warm weather now, an’ er moonshiny night; can’t we go?” ”

“ Yer know deze chil’en ain’t got no bizness ’long o’ specerlaters.”
In the meanwhile Dumps and Tot were crying over their disappointment.
“Yer mean old thing!” sobbed Dumps. “I ain’t goin’ ter min’ yer, nuther; an’ I sha’n’t nuver go ter sleep no mo’, an’ let you go to prayer-meetin’s; jes all time botherin’ me, an’ won’t lemme see de specerlaters, nor nothin’.”
“Jes lis’en how yer talkin’,” said Mammy, “given’ me all dat sass. You’re de sassies’ chile marster’s got. Nobody can’t nuver larn yer no manners, allers er sassin ole pussons. Jes keep on, an’ yer’ll see wat’ll happen ter yer ”

“ You’re all time pettin’ ’im an’ feedin’ ’im—hateful old thing—tell he thinks he’s got ter go ev’rywhere we go. You ought ter be ’shamed er yourse’f. Ef I was you, I’d think myse’f too good ter be always er ’soshatin’ with sheeps.”
“You’re mighty fond of ’im sometimes,” said Diddie, “an’ you was mighty glad he was here jes now, to be Lord Burgoyne: he’s jes doin’ this fur fun; an’ ef Chris was my nigger, I’d make her git down an’ drive ’im away.”
Chris belonged to Dumps, and Mammy had taught the children never to give orders to each other’s maids, unless with full permission of the owner. ”

“ Dumps buried her face in her hands, and remained in deep study for a few moments, and presently said,
“And now she is dead, an’ I am so glad.”
“Oh, Dumps, that’s too wicked,” said Diddie. “You mustn’t never be glad when anybody’s dead; that’s too wicked a poetry; I sha’n’t write it in the book.”
“Well, I nuver knowed nuthin’ else,” said Dumps. “I couldn’t hardly make that up; I jes had ter study all my might; and I’m tired of writin’ poetry, anyhow; you make it up all by yourse’f.” ”

“ But Nancy Jane O, bein’ so fur er start uv all de res’, an’ not er dreamin’ ’bout no kin’ er develment, she ’lowed she’d stop an’ take er nap, an’ so de lark he come up wid ’er, wile she wuz er set’n on er sweet-gum lim’, wid ’er head un’er ’er wing. Den de lark spoke up, an’ sezee, ‘Sis Nancy Jane O,’ sezee, ‘we birds is gwinter gin er bug feas’, caze we’ll be sho’ ter win de race anyhow, an’ bein’ ez we’ve flew’d so long an’ so fur, wy we’re gwine ter stop an’ res’ er spell, an’ gin er feas’. ”

“ He’s er gittin’ uperds in years now; pretty soon he’ll hatter shove off fur dat ‘heb’nly sho’,” an’ wen de Lord sen’ atter him, he don’t want dat angel ter catch him in no kinwunshuns ’long wid ’publicans an’ sinners.’” And so Uncle Bob attends to his store, and mends chairs and tubs, and deals extensively in chickens and eggs; and perhaps he is doing just as well as if he were in Congress.
Dilsey and Chris and Riar are all women now, and are all married and have children of their own; and nothing delights them more than to tell their little ones what “us an’ de white chil’en usen ter do.” ”

“ Somebody, you know, must attend to the wants and comforts of the gray-haired woman in the asylum; and Diddie had her boy to support and educate, so Dumps teaches school and takes care of her mother, and is doing what Uncle Snake-bit Bob told the Sunday-school children that God had made them to do ”

“ The representation of the different motions was left entirely to the taste and ingenuity of the actor, though it was the rule of the game that no two people should represent the same character in the same way. ”

“ Tight-fis’ Smith, an’ he’ll get—”
“Lor’, chile,” interrupted Uncle Pomp, “don’t tell yer pa nuf’n ’boutn it; he’ll sho’ ter sen’ me back, an’ dat man’ll beat me half ter def; caze I’se mos’ loss er week’s time now, an’ hit’s er mighty ’tickler time in de crap.”
“But, s’posin’ the dogs might come?” said Dumps.
“Well, honey, dey ain’t come yit; an’ wen dey duz come, den hit’ll be time fur ter tell yer pa.”
“Anyhow, we’ll bring you something to eat,” said Diddie, “and try and help you all we can; but we must go back now, befo’ Mammy hunts for us; so good-bye;” ”

“ Yer won’t see no dancin’ den; yer won’t hyear no cussin’, nor no chickens hollin’ uv er night; dey won’t be no reel chunes sung den; yer’ll want ter go ter prayin’, an’ yer’ll be er callin’ on us wat is stedfus in de faith fur ter hep yer; but we can’t hep yer den. We’ll be er tryin’ on our wings an’ er floppin’ ’em” (“Yes, bless God!” thus Uncle Snake-bit Bob) , “an’ er gittin’ ready fur ter start upuds! We’ll be er lacin’ up dem golden shoes” (“Yes, marster!” thus Mammy) , “fur ter walk thu dem pearly gates. ”

“ They are not able to buy my child, and he must be raised in ignorance, to do another’s bidding all his life, my poor little baby! His dear father hated slavery, and it seems so hard that his son must be a slave!”
“Now don’t yer take on like dat, er makin’ uv yerse’f sick,” said Uncle Bob; “I know wat I gwine do; my min’ hit’s made up; hit’s true, I’m brack, but den my min’ hit’s made up. Now you go on back ter de house, outn dis damp a’r, an’ tuck cyar er yerse’f, an’ don’t yer be er frettin’, nuther, caze my marster, he’s de bes’ man dey is; an’ den, ’sides dat, my min’ hit’s made up. ”

“ Well, for “Mammy” and “Daddy Jake” and “Aunt Milly” and “Uncle Dan’l,” “dat angel” has long since “blowed de horn,” and I hope and believe they are happily walking “dem golden streets” in which they had such implicit faith, and of which they never wearied of telling.
And the rest of the negroes are all scattered; some doing well, some badly; some living, some dead. Aunt Sukey’s Jim, who married Candace that Christmas-night, is a politician. ”

“ I an’t got no ’pinion uv po’ white folks, nohow.”
“Is Miss Carrie po’ white folks, Mammy?” asked Dumps, in horror, for she had been taught by Mammy and Aunt Milly both that the lowest classes of persons in the world were “po’ white folks” and “free niggers.”
“She ain’t no rich white folks,” answered Mammy, evasively; “caze efn she wuz, she wouldn’t be teachin’ school fur er livin’; an’ den ergin, efn she’s so mighty rich, whar’s her niggers? I neber seed ’em. An’, let erlone dat, I ain’t neber hyeard uv ’em yit;” for Mammy could not conceive of a person’s being rich without niggers. ”

“ When Diddie had finished her dinner, she joined them; and such a merry time as they had, burying their little naked feet in the sand, and splashing the water against each other!
“I tell yer, Diddie,” said Dumps, “I don’t b’lieve nuthin’ ’bout bad little girls gittin’ hurt, an’ not havin’ no fun when they runs away, an’ don’t min’ nobody. I b’lieve Mammy jes makes that up ter skyeer us.”
“I don’t know,” replied Diddie; “you ’member the time’ bout Ole Billy?”
“Oh, I ain’t er countin’ him,” said Dumps; “I ain’t er countin’ no sheeps; I’m jes er talkin’ ’bout ditches an’ things.” ”

“ I got er nuther han’ lef’,’ and ’ker bum’ he come wid his udder han’, on de tar baby’s tuther jaw, an’ dat han’ stuck.
“‘Look er hyear! who yer foolin’ wid?’ sez Brer Rabbit; ‘I got er foot yit.’ Den he kick wid all his might, an’ his foot stuck. Den he kick wid his udder foot, an’ dat stuck. Den Brer Rabbit he ’gun ter git madder’n he wuz, an’ sezee, ‘Ef yer fool ’long o’ me mun I’ll butt de life out’n yer,” an’ he hault off wid his head, an’ butt de tar baby right in de chis, an’ his head stuck. Dar he wuz! ”

“ Yit de message, hit sez, ‘dey young men shall die by de s’ord, an’ dey sons an’ dey daughters by de famine.’
“Now, bredren an’ sistren, an’ monahs an’ sinners, don’t le’s force de Lord fur ter drive us; le’s try fur ter sarve him, an’ fur ter git erlong doutn de s’ords an de famines. Come up hyear roun’ dis altar, an’ wrestle fur ’ligion, an’ dem few uv us wat is godly—me an’ Brer Snake-bit Rob an’ Sis Haly an’ Brer Gabe, an’ Brer Lige an’ Brer One-eyed Pete, an’ Sis Rachel (Mammy) an’ Sis Hannah—we’re gwine put in licks fur yer dis ebenin’. ”

“ And, besides all these amusements, Mammy or Aunt Milly or Aunt Edy, or some of the negroes, would tell them tales; and once in a while they would slip off and go to the quarters, to Aunt Nancy the tender’s cabin, and play with the little quarter children. They particularly liked to go there about dark to hear the little negroes say their prayers.
Aunt Nancy would make them all kneel down in a row, and clasp their hands and shut their eyes: then she would say, “Our Father, who art in heaven,” and all the little darkies together would repeat each petition after her ”

“ An’ he jes clum up de side uv de den, he did; an’ soon’s uber his feet tech de yeath, he sez ter de king, sezee, ‘King, hit ain’t no usen fur yer ter fool erlong o’ me,’ sezee; ‘I’m er prayin’ man mysef, an I ’low ter live an’ die on my knees er prayin’ an’ er sarvin’ de Lord.’ Sezee, ‘De Lord ain’t gwine let de lions meddle long o’ me,’ sezee; ‘I ain’t fyeard o’ nufn,’ sezee. ‘De Lord is my strengt an’ my rocks, an’ I ain’t er fyeard o’ NO man.’ An’ wid dat he helt er preachin’, sar, right whar he wuz; an’ he tol’ ’em uv dey sins, an’ de goodness uv de Lord. ”

“ I don’t want never to learn to read all my life. An’, Mammy, can’t you go an’ turn Diddie erloose?”
“No, I can’t,” answered Mammy. “Yer pa don’t ’low me fur ter do it; he won’t do it hisse’f, an’ he won’t let dem do it wat wants ter. I dunno wat’s gittin’ in ’im myse’f. But, you chil’en, put on yer bunnits, an’ run an’ play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis’ uv cloes; an’ you little niggers, go wid ’em, an’ tuck cyar uv ’em; an’ ef dem chil’en git hut, yer’ll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer’d better keep em off’n seesaws an’ all sich ez dat.” ”

“ An’ de frog, he turnt roun,’ he did, an’ he wave his han’ roun’ his head, an’ he holler back,
“‘Pig-un-a-wa-ya, Pig-un-a-wa-ya, hooo-hooo!’
“Atter Nancy Jane O got erhead er de birds, den de hardes’ flyin’ wuz thu wid; so she jes went ’long, an’ went ’long, kin’ er easy like, tell she got ter de stone; an’ she lit on er’ simmon-bush close ter de crick, an’ Pigunawaya he slipt off, he did, an’ he hist up his feet, an’ he gin er jump, kerchug he went down inter de water; an’ by’mby hyear he come wid de stone in his mouf. Den he mount on Nancy Jane O, he did ”

“ Uncle Snake-bit Bob is living still. He has a little candy-store in a country town. He does not meddle with politics. He says, “I don’t cas’ my suffrins fur de Dimercracks, nur yit fur de ’Publicans. I can’t go ’ginst my color by votin’ de Dimercrack papers; an’ ez fur dem ’Publicans! Well, ole Bob he done hyear wat de Book say ’boutn publicans an’ sinners, an’ dat’s ernuff fur him. ”

“ I’ll keep my promise to the little ones; you shall not be punished in any way. Come out, and let’s go home.”
And Uncle Pomp emerged from his hiding-place, presenting a very ludicrous spectacle, with his unwashed face and uncombed hair, and the dirty cotton sticking to his clothes.
“Ef’n yer’ll furgib de ole nigger dis time, marster, he ain’t neber gwine run erway no mo’ an’, mo’n dat, he gwine ter make speshul ’spress ’rangemunce fur ter git up sooner in de mornin’; he is dat, jes sho’s yer born!” said the old negro, as he came before his master. ”

“ Ef’n de nigger hadn’t ben so sleepy-headed, he’d er ben white, an’ his hyar’d er ben straight des like yourn. Yer see, atter de Lord make ’im, den he lont him up ’gins de fence-corner in de sun fur ter dry; an’ no sooner wuz de Lord’s back turnt, an’ de sun ’gun ter come out kin’er hot, dan de nigger he ’gun ter nod, an’ er little mo’n he wuz fas’ ter sleep. Well, wen de Lord sont atter ’im fur ter finish uv ’im up, de angel couldn’t fin’ ’im, caze he didn’t know de zack spot whar de Lord sot ’im; an’ so he hollered an’ called, an’ de nigger he wuz ’sleep, an’ he nuber hyeard ’im ”

“ I wuz er gwine myse’f ter see ef’n I could’n git dat gol’-stone; hit’s true I don’t stan’ much showin’ ’long o’ birds, but den ef’n eber I gits dar, wy I kin jes jump right in an’ fotch up de stone wile de birds is er waitin’ fur de crick ter run down. An’ now, s’posin’ I wuz ter ontie yer, Nancy Jane O, could yer tuck me on yer back an’ cyar me ter de crick? an’ den we’d hab de sho’ thing on de gol’-stone, caze soon’s eber we git dar, I’ll git it, an’ we’ll cyar it bof tergedder ter de king, an’ den we’ll bof git de deares’ wush uv our hearts. Now wat yer say? ”