The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1882-05-10

Fate had so ordained it; familiar
scenes of lifetime were destined
soon to vanish from view; the old
homestead had been bargained for;
the plantation was no longer ours.
Others might walk beneath the state
ly shade trees, but they would never
know the pleasure, as we had known
it, of watching the budding of the
leaves, or listening to the piping of
the birds-to us it was as the greet
ing of old friends, to them it might
be perhaps like the chance excite
ment of some new acquaintance.
And the dear old house, wherein we
had so much of Joy, and of sorrow
too-ahl who shallsay which it was
that drew us closer 10 ii?
At last the morning of the day
for our departure came, and in the
excitement of final preparation our
hearts in measure closed to all
about us. 1t was hustle and con-
fusion everywhere; perhaps We may
have purposely allowed ourselves no
time to think. But all things end,
and with nothing more to keep my
self occupied indoors, / stepped out
on the broad gallery that surround
ed the dwelling. | looked above at
the bright blue sky, glanced at the
deep running river before me, i
watched the gently swaying branches
of the trees so near me, and / said,
Good bye" with almost child
like simplicity. | watched and list
ened till l fancied the sky clouded,
like the eve will sometimes grow
dim with unbidden tears, while in
the rustling of the leaves about me
heard bat one continuous goodbye.
How sweetly it was whispered. So
faint and yet so clear, as though the
ghosts of my own tender thoughts
were lowering near.
: Presently / heard footsteps, trem-
bling footsteps as it were,. and the
Oldest of the plantation hands, white
haired Uncle Tom, came close to the
gallery.
Miss Mary" said the old man,
as he stopped and leaned on the
stout staff he carried, II know'd you
when you was wee bit of baby
in your nurses arms"
"Yes, Uncle Tom" l answered me-
"And 1 has watched you many a
time when you was a tiny gal play
ing up and down dis here lane"
Yes, Uncle Tom"
"And / has seed you grow up to
be what you is now, Miss Mary
/ said nothing.
And is you gwine to leave de old
Place forebber??"
What crowding fancies followed
this simple question. Forever, Had
| really thought of that before? I
took the old man kindly by the
hand, and though never a word
passed my lips, knew he felt / was
telling him goodbye. He turned to
90, and as he slowly shuffled away
| heard him murmur:
Poor old Uncle Tom hain't got
much longer to live, but he'd feel
heap sight easier if old Massa and
Missus would still be here to help
put him under the ground"
The old man had never quit the
place, even in the first days of free
dom, and now that strangers were
coming, he saw nothing in the fu-
ture but misery for him. What
dependency many of the
Did slaves still have upon their for
ner owners.
Towards evening the boat that
was to carry US off made the land
ng. We hurried aboard. The thir-
y or more hands on the plantation
lad all gathered at the river side to
De with US 10 the last, and it was not
i'll the good hearted captain had
more than once rung his bell that
he last hand shaking had been gone
through with.
/ stood on the guards ill every
amiliar point had faded away, apeL
hen / hurried into the cabin and
nto my room. | laid me down TO
est, and as | slowly fell asleep |
leard in the monotonous padding
f the boat. but the eyer-repeated
sords. Poor Uncle Tom, Old Uncle
'om."