St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1880-03-20
CATO'S MISHAP.


pounds Of flour, and eff you had any
butter to spar, or any thing else, she'd
be proud, mudder would, to git it, and
she'd take it out next weeks washin'
you know, ma am"
Now did know Cato was the most
audacious little black boy in the neigh
borhood and there was something so
strange in the idea of Celia, the most
aristocratic old negress in town, giving
q lair, a mode of raising money which
she had been in the habit of condemn
ing as only fit Ser de low-down black
trash,' that very serious doubts were
awakened.
81 can't believe you, Cato" I an
swered. "What is Aunt Celia giving a
fair for? Is it for the church?''
"No'm. Mudder says as how all de
colored folks is done gin fars, and dey's
been a-makin' fun oh her, and dey seq
as how it amt becaze she's proud, she
don't gin one, but Gaze she's so drotted
stingy and pore. And mudder ain
gWine to take dar. from no man, and
no woman neither. And she'll show
'em what's what, fore she's done,
reckon"
My young friends must not suppose
that these fairs given by the colored peo-
pie of the South at all resemble those
they have been accustomed to see.
There are no knick-knacks, no hand
somely arranged stalls and tables.
1t is simply a sbountiful supper of
meats and cakes, for which each paws
fifty cents, with gumbo at the close
which is sold at twenty-five cents a
plate. The largest cake is always raj
fled off. The motives for these fairs are
multifarious. There are church fairs,
but if Aunt Dorcas wants new basin or
pitcher, or Sister Mandy a new dress, a
fair is the invariable mode by which
these perplexities are solved.
But let us return to Cato, who is wait
ing for the flour and butter and "oder
little tings.' Knowing his propensi-
ties, tied up the sugar as securely as
could in the other packages, and sent
him on his way. He didn't get very far,
however, for large pecan-tree stood
near my front gate, and there were many
windfalls beneath it,
He deposited his bundle near the gate
and fell to picking up the nuts, cracking
and eating and filling his pockets at the
same time. Something called off my
attention and forgot him, but quarter
of an hour afterward when approached
my front door, there was the little scamp
still busy.
was just about to call to him when I
saw an ayenging Nemesis moving swift
iy along on the outside of the palings. I
knew the towering red turban, and |
knew, too, from the manner in which it
was tossed, that Aunt Celia was about
to swoop down like hawk on its prey
She opened the gate unseen by her busy
son, made a swift movement, and
pounced silently upon him.
In the twinkling of an eye Cato, scat
tering his plumber right and left, was
pitched squealing over the fence, his
little black legs quivering for second
in the air as he disappeared.
She put her hand to her head, and
found that in her exertions her majestic
turban had collapsed. Now this tur-
ban always seemed the insignia of Celia's
rank and proud pretensions. When
she felt particularly humble, she laid it
in flat folds on her head. When she
came in the quality Of a washerwoman,
it was mounted little higher, but still
Il compact and unassuming head-dress.
But when she paid a visit of ceremony,
or called an enemy to account, the red
flag of defiance lowered aloft, in most
wonderful proportions.
II sont dat trit1in' wagabone boy
hours and hours ago, Miss Marie, to git
some tings.n
Il gave them to him, Celia" I an
swered. "There they lie now by the
gate. Come in, and rest yourself
"Tanky, ma'am, can't stop more'n
q minute. Why, ma am, l done broke
my eggs fore sont dat awdacious crit
ter fur de flour and butter. He's dat
took wild low company, Albert Stark
head man, dat he amt no use to me.
He's all de son got, too, and to see
him takin' up wild dat bad niger, AL
bert, most breaks my heart. You know,
Miss Marie, I'm gwine to gin far
III" So heard, Aunt Celia, but could
not believe it was true, knowing your
opinion of that mode of money-mak-
ing"
''Yes'm, it do seem long down way,
sure huff. But dey done dared me to
it, an amt gwine to hab all de black
scum a snigglin' game at me. Why,
dey done make song bout me, and
dat impident Albert he hollered it out
jest under my nose.
Ole Aunt Cely, she can't gin far,
Gaze poor ole Cely's cupboard is bar;
She's neber had n good squar' meal,
Fur she dries and she eats de apple peel
AS she repeated the insulting dog
gerel, her turban quivered with rage,
and her eyes flashed.
Snow you tink I'm gwine to let 'em
trample me down dat ar way? Yes,
I'll gin a far, and my far will be ten
thousand times finer than any thing dey
cher saw.
"Now, look here, honey, wants you
to help me. I'm gwine to make great
big stack cake, and ice it, and | want
you to dress it fur me with flowers and
stars and tings. It's gwine to be Sec
ton cake, one part fruit cake, and white,
and golden cake, all jined together. It's
to rattle off,
"To raffie!" I exclaimed. "Why,
live heard you say that you thought
raffies SINFUL
81 links so YETI solemnly shaking
her head, "but eff l gets my feet wet,
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