The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-03-27

1OuSn unS neeu .COugn napOIln
We followed him to the brick-yard,
where wa my father experimenting a
lot of hirelings and hands from his own
plantation, in making brick forhis own
chimnies. Though now seven years
old, I had not e a brick chimney,
and the frame building not yet COM
pleted on my fathers place was the
only frame house in our neighborhood.
My father appeared worried and he
looked at Ben over his spectacles.
at took you a long time!"
'Couldn't come sooner. Had to look
roun' for de child'en. Dey was right
smart fur ways"
"At the chestnut hill. I see,"
t'Childen won't come without chest
nuts"
There was still a slow smile upon his
lips and his eyes beamed with the humor
of his very lame excuse,
sis the water rising very fast"
"Fallin' since breakfast"
My father babe US run along home,
for the plantation, was more than a mile
from the brickyard. Like spoiled
children, we loitered about, watch
ing the busy scene, and fonnd ourselves
once more in Uncle Ben's vicinity.
He was now molding brick and placing
them in rows for the sun.
why don't yer help, KateP"
81 don't know how"
stIt's laziness. OATS it."
"I'm too little bit"
'It's ease yer no count. All on yer
is trash gang
"Cuss desc brick, den, if you any
count"
mamma will not let u.s."
"How she goin' to know FTP Cuss de
brick and de mules and Ill give you a
silver quarter" He showed us the
piece of money, which was too much
for my cupidity, and, in concert with
my little black playmates. I repeated
after him all his profane words. He
seemed delighted and roared with
laughter. Thinking I had earned his
quarter, / reminded him of it.
..Dis de quarterP" he said, lifting me
in his arms and starting toward my
father. In vain was my pleading.
Here's Kate, Marster. She's ben
cussin' me an de brick an nigh bout
cherry thing else"
My father brushed me out without a
question and started me home with a
troop of squalling little negroes. AS
we passed Uncle Ben at his work he
poked fun at Us in this wise:
"Dat's purity music. Whar did you
larn dem tunesp Don't you want de
quarter? Hope Mistiss will play an
odder tune on dem music boxes.
My father was a native of.the North
and owned no negroes, except as they
came to him in my mothers portion.
Ben was near my mother'sage and was
fond of telling how he played with her
in childhood. He was very black,
massiyely built, full of energy and my
mother often said the handspring of
plantation life in farm or negro quarter.
He did not shirk, and was the
champion rail splitter, boxer and
wrestler in the neighborhood. He was
always ready alike for work or fun.
He delighted in humoring and teasing
us small small oDes, in turn. Often,
eve when he lamented@ being a slave,
his eyes were so full of merriment, we
were in doubt whether to laugh or CRY.
For, indeed, he frequently talked to us
of the hardships of slave life and his
desire of freedom. Sometimes wonder
ing why the black man should be
doomed to obey the behests of the
white man, and then perchance would
la%ughingly declare that s'nigger was to
white man what mule was to niger,
and when niger gets free from white
man den mule ought to be free from
niger"
There was a steamboat landing on
my fathers land, and a long cotton
shed where cotton and freight were
stored. During the shipping season
this landing was the public Sunday re-
sort for many of the farmers, overseers
and negroes of the neighborhood. This
was before the advent of railroads in
that section of Mississippi, and the cot
ton from the rich prairies beyond had
to be hauled many miles, over dreadful
roads, to reach the river. Hence, bust
ness men and teamsters from other
countries often spent their SUNDAYS
here. [ had often heard of the wrest-
ling and boxing matches, in which our
Ben was an ever ready champion.
off their cumberous gar
ments, these wrestlers were accustomed
to exhibit their Drawn to the better
Our Ben was particularly fond
of showing his smooth and unscarred
back, often boasting to his less fortu-
nate competitors that he had not receiyed
a stripe since from his own mothers
hands in boyhood. Some of the over
seers, passing their hands over the
muscles Uncle Ben so proudly exhi-
bited, were disposed to grumble be-
cause he had no scar, and would ex-
press desire and determination to give
him a beating. Burning with in
dignation, my brothers would repeat
to u parents many of these
threats. Our father would smilingly
say that "Ben is not afraid" But my
mothers eyes would glow with a heat
she did not attempt to conceal; for she
was very sensitive as to the welfare and
rights of her property.
Our Ben had one fault, which was
doomed to get him into trouble. He
was passionately fond of hunting opos-
sum, and would wander many miles off
my fathers land. He was counting a
girl on a neighboring plantation, whose
owner was not pleased at it.
He had been forbidden to visit this
plantation, and my father, knowing
and sy~mpathizing with him, permitted
any OF us to write him apass, whenever
be wanted it. But our obdurate neigh
Dor finally forbade his visits, even with
pass, n some overseers were con-
stantly on the alert to catch him.
One night, when my father was away
from home, for, being a lawyer, he was
often away on business, we were started
from slumber by a halloo lin our back
yard. My mother dressed quickly, and,
going into the back veranda, met my
brothers as they came u of their
room.
Poor Uncle Ben stood beside a mule;
his two hands tied to the pommel of a
saddle, on which sat one of the most
unmerciful overseers of our vicinity.
There were three of these men in sight,
and n skulking in the shadow of the
trees which grew near the door. The
moon rode brightly through a starlit
cEu on6 ffS haa,,1 ell f-1I- --