The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-01-17
HOW HE WAS RAISED.
Old Bumpford has Trouble With the Church--A Thieving Preacher and
 an Ugly Buck -Nigger.

"I aint got much use fur desc heah las week an dis week churches. Da's dun los all idee O de right sorter rigion an runs too much wid de worl'."
 The speaker, old Bumpford Clay, a colored gentleman of many days sojourn on this earth, had sat down on a barrel of salt in a warehouse; and with an air of great perplexity, had removed his hat and was rubbing his head.
 "What's the matter, Uncle Bump ?" asked the proprietor of the establish ment.
 "Nuthin' de matter wid me, Mars John. De trouble is wid de church, sah.'
 What has the church been doing p
 " "Cuttin' up CT usual, sah. Thought l want fit ter set wid de holy folks. T'uther night, while wuz down in de country, de water rig SO dat couldn' git home, so 1 staid all night on de Calvin place. De cullud folks had a sorer blowout an axed me ter jine in wid 'em. 'Cose 1 couldn't hep but show my p1iteness on dat urcasion, fur Mars John. yessef knows dat wuz raised right in dis heah rec speck. Wall, arter while da gunter tune up fiddles. know'd da wuz gwineter dance, but ez it had gunter rain mighty hard bout dis time, want gwineter run of like l wuz skeered, fur Mars John, vessel knows 1 want raised dat eiway. Wall, putty soon de young niggers gum ter grab dar podners, an sorter shake dar hoofs CT little. felt nightly like grabbin' my hat an leabin' de place, bu, it want 'zackly right ter show 50 much feelin'. want raised dat erway. Yer knows dat vessel, Mars John. Ez sot dar, tryin' not ter see whut wuz gwine on, l felt suthin' tech me, an lookin' down I seed dat somebody had dun put fiddle inter my ham. want gwine ter fro de thing on de do' an ack CT fool right dar, case 1 want fotch up dat way, fack what yessef mighty well knows. hil' de thing CT mint, an' den ter keep rum causin' any side CT marks, sorter sawed it CT little, an sah, de ole fiddle felt so much at home, dat she gunter talk right dar, an bless yer, fust thing knowed, wuz CT callin' of de sets. couldn' stop all O CT suddenment arter had begun, fur dat wouldenter showed razin'. Went on dis way fur some time tell arter erwhile CT man he took de fiddle an CT young 'oman-mighty likely gal, too cotch hotter my arm, an wid CT mighty pleasin' smile, led me out on de fo'. Think wuz gwineter stan' dar like CT fool2 Nor, sah. Er man wid my razin' couldn' do it. shuck desc oie feet. shuck de fros' O five winters outen 'em, Mars' John, done it sho's yer borned, did. 'Twant long arter dis tell some feller showed Q bottle un'ez my nose. Wuz gwineter be suited by dis ack O kine- ness? Couldn't be, sah. tuck dat bottle an hip it up. Things went dis way putty nigh all night an de naixt day bout twelve CT clock 1 foun' myself layin' in de cornder O de fence, feelin' mighty sorry dat de high water wuz gwineser cause sich 'struction in de lam. De naixt night airter come home, went teS church. l alius lead in de singin', but dat night, jes' ez lifted up my voice, de preacher-ole Ham Parker, yer know him, Man John, 'vicsed oscs fur sseaiin'-~all, dat ole maa he turned roun' ter me, an' say: 'Shet dat mouf' 1 looked at him in 'sprise. sShet dat mouf,' say he, fur we doan waak no vile sinner carryin' on in heah. Want yer ter un'erstan', sah, dat yer aint at q nigser dance.' Who yer aingin' dem sinnywasioas at ? sr. 'Oh. ef ds 5rogan 6t yer, war it, says he. 'Idoan' kssch de reffercncement Q yer carcistions,' s'I, fingin' up my head vid pride, fur, Mars' John, yer knows vuz raised dat way. 'Mebbe yer aint got sober yis,' says ss. Doaa think dat yer ken fiddle an dance wid sinners an den come heah an opeEaie dis heah house O de Lawd. Yer mer dance all yer wanss ter, but dar ain't no gospel lsyin' roun' heah fur no sich ez yessef is 'Whut yer gxine tez do bout itr sl. 'Whut ! gwine ter do bout it ? says ze, 'Pse gwine pst yer