The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1872-09-20

The way in which evil is sometimes
suggested to the immature minds of
servants and children by accusing them
on speculation of some fancied wrong.
doing, the manner in which they are
thus shown the practicability OF acts
which they would otherwise suppose
impossible for them to accomplish, has
seldom been better illustrated than in a
story which still circulates in Virginia,
concerning a negro boy switch his
name it was" Bill. He was owned by
an eccentric old lady, whose suspicious
temper made life a burden to her.elf
and every one around her. One day
she sent Bill down into the cellar to
draw cider for dinner. The cellar con-
tanned also some fresh butter; and as
the boy failed TO re.appear within a rea-
sonable time, she began to fear for its
safety. Going to the hall of the stair
way she called to him.
bill, what are you doing down
there? | know you are stealing that
butter
"Law, missis," replied the boy; how
could steal the butter? Whar is /
got to put 1T"
"Why, you could hide it in your
shirt bosom," she incautiously replied.
" Bless your heart, Massa john" said
the grinning negro, as he afterwards
told the story to my grandfather, 81
never wanted for butter from that
day F."
The real, though perhaps uncon.
scious, creed Of vast number of per.
sons, is well expressed in the advice
given by an old black man to a wild
young Virginian:
"Massa Richard" said this hoary evil
doer, solemnly lifting up his hand to
emphasize his admonition, 81 if there is
hereafter, don't carry on-but," he ad.
ded, suddenly breaking out into enthu-
siasm and broad grin, if there amt
no hereafter, carry on powerful
am sorry to say that the young gen.
tleman in question adopted the latter
half OF the sable mentors instruction
with readiness with which advice is
seldom received, or, at least, acted
upon.
Talking of a future existence recalls
the opinion pronounced upon his own
prospects, and those OF his race, by an
elderly mulatto man, the dining-room
servant In house on the bank of the
Rappahannock. He was overwhelm.
lng.y genteel; and to see him solemnly
retreat to his buffers pantry before al
lowing himself the luxury of smile or
cough, made one quite ashamed TO
indulge in such demonstrations. lie
scarcely ever spoke; but when he did
So, it was to express some decided con-
viction as to the inevitable destiny Of
his race in this world and the next.
" It's no use to tell me-" he would
jerk out IN short sentences, THAT white
folks and niggers are going to the same
place in heaven. Sure as you are born,
there Ii be a quarter built off tor us to live
in. And they'll have something for us
TO do; why, they'll set Us to pushing
along the clouds, if they can't find any
thing else"
Before the war, there lived on
plantation near Lynchburg an old col
ored preacher, whose sermons were
truly remarkable. One day his master,
who happened to be passing, paused to
listen as he discoursed to his fellow
servants. His subject was hell and its
horrors, which he described in terrible
terms, declaring that there was "whip-
ping and whaling, and snatching out of
teeth" He then proceeded, with a
touch of Dantesque vigor, to tell his
hearers that hell was a region of fearful
cold, where ice and snow covered all
things, and where freezing was the ia
volite punishment.
why, Cesar," said his master the
next time they met, curious to learn
why the preacher differed SO strongly
from the usually accepted theory of the
internal regions, "what makes you tell
my servants that hell is a cold place p
Law, massa, don't dare to tell
them people nothing else Why, if |
was TO say that hell was warm, some Of
them old rheumatic niggas would be
10 start down thar the very
first trost."-Mr. Seemuller, IN Old and
NeO for September.