Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1874-11-26
A TRUE STORY, REPEATED WORD
FOR WORD AS l HEARD 1T.
BY MARK TWAIN.

| We were sitting On the porch OF the
| farmhouse, on the summit of the hill,
and aunt Rachel" was sitting respect
| fully below our level, on the steps-for
she was our servant, and colored. She
was of mighty frame and stature; she
was sixty years old, but her eye was un-
dimmed and her strength undated. She
was q cheerful, hearty soul, and it was
no more trouble for her to laugh than 1t
is for a.bird to sing. She was under fire,
now, as usual when the day was done.
That is to say, she was being chatied
without mercy and was enjoying 1t. She
would let of peal after peal of laugh
ter, and then sit with her face in her
hands and shake with throes OF enjoy
ment which she could no longer get
breath enough to express. AT such mo-
ment as this q thought occurred to me,
and l said:
"Aunt Rachel how is it that you've
lived sixty years and never had any
trouble?"
She stopped quaking. She paused,
and there was moment OF silence. She
turned her face over her shoulder toward
! me and said, without even smile in her
| voice:
"Misto c., is you in 'arnestg"
1t surprised me q good deal; and it
| sobered my manner and my speech, too.
l said:
"Why, l thought-that is, ! meant
why, you can't have had any trouble. I've
never heard you sigh, and never seen
your eye when there wasn't laugh
in it,"
She faced fairly around now and was
full of earnestness'
HAS l had any troubles Misto
c., Use gwyne to tell you, den leave
it to you. I was Dawn down 'mongst de
slaves; knows all bout slavery, ease
ben one of 'em my own self. Well, sab,
my ole man-dats my husban'-he was
lovin' an kind to me, jist as kind as you
is to yo own wife. An We had chilen-
seven chilen-an' we loved dem chil'en
jist lie same as you loves yo chil'en. hey
was black, but de Lord can't make no
chil'en so black but what dey mother
loves em an wouldn't give 'em up, no,
not for anything OATS in dis whole world
| "Well, sab, was raised in ole Fo'
ginny, but my mother she was raised in
Maryland; an my souls! she was TURF
bic when she'd git started My Ian!
but she'd make de fur fly! When she d
git into dem tantrums, she always had
one word dat she said. She'd straighten
herself up an put her fists in her hips
an say, Il want you to understan' dat |
want bawn in de mash to be fool by
trash! rs one o. de ole Blue Hens
Chickens, I isr Case. you see, OATS
what folks OATS bawn in Maryland calls
deyselves, an dey's proud of it. Well,
dat was her word. don't ever forgit it,
becase she said it so much, an beca'se
she said it one day when my little
Henry tore his wis awful, an most
busted his head, right up at de top Of
his forehead, an de niggers didn't fly
aroun' fas' enough to tend to him. An
when dey talk back at her, she up an
she says, Look-a-heahp she says, |
want you niggers to understan' dat
want bawn in de mash to be fool by
trash! rs one O de ole Blue Hens
kitchen an bandage' up de chile herself.
So says dat word, too when rs riled.
"Well, bymeby my ole mistis say she's
broke, an She got to sell all de niggers
| on de place. An when / heah dat dey
gwyne to sell US all off at cotton in Rich
mon, oh, de good gracious! know what
| dat mean"
Aunt Rachel had gradually risen while
| lowered above u.s. black against the stars
Dey put chains on us an put US on a
stan as high as dis poch-twenty foot
high-an' all de people stood aroun',
crowds an crowds. An dey'd come up
dab an look at us all roun', an squeeze
our arm, an make us git up an walk, an
den say, Dis one too OLE or Dis one
lame, or Dis one don't mount to much. '
| An dey sole my ole man an took him
away, an dey begin to sell my chilen an
take dem away, an begin to cry; an de
man say, 'Shet up yo' dam blubberin','
an hit me on de mouf wild his ham. An
when de las one was gone but my little
Henry, grab him clost up to my breas'
so, an ris up an says, You shan't take
him away | says; IN kill de man dat
tetcLes himp l says. But my little
Henry whisper an say, | gwyne to run
away an den l work an buy yo' free
DOM Oh, bless de chile, he always SO
good! But dey got him--dey got him,
| de men did /; but took and tear de cloe,
mos of of 'em, an beat 'em over de
head wld my chain; an deg give it to me,
too, but l didn't mine dat.
We'll, dab was my ole man gone, an
all my chil'en, all my seven chil'en-an'
six Of 'em l hain't set eyes on ag'in
to dis day, an OATS twenty-five year ago
las Easter. De man dat bought me
blong' in Newbern, an he took me
dab. Well, bymeby de years roll on
an de waw come. My marster he
was Confedrit Colonel, an | was his
family's cook. SO when de Unions took
dat town dey all run away an lef me all
by myself wild de other niggers in dat
mons'us big house. So de big Union Of
fcers move in dab an dey ask me would
| cook for dem. Lord bless you,' says |,
OATS what Is .for.'
"Dey want no small-fry officers, mine