The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-02-20
REV. SAM JONES AND THE RAE.
 BIT FOOT.

IOpie P. Read, in New York Mercury.1
 doan mine doin' de wuck O two or. dinary pussons, boss, but dar aim no use'n talkin', l aim gwine ober dar by dat grabeyard ter day"
 Jasper Hollings, an old negro we'll known in the bottoms, threw down the lines and, ominiously shaking his head, climbed down from the wagon. Judge Boyers, a planter upon whose plantation the negro was employed, had ordered him to drive over to an old graveyard, on the border of the plantation and bring away load of posts which he would find piled up in the woods.
 Kain' go, jedge," old Jasper repeated His face had assumed serious expres- sion, creating the impression that if it were possible he would turn pale.
 "Why can't you go ?" the judge de- manded. "Don't pay you for your workT'
 "Oh, yas, sab; yer pays me fur my wuck, but who gwine ter pay me fur beir' skeerd ter def by dem ghostez. It's git- tin laung in de ebenin' an dem speret. Il put on dar white shirts putty sooa a,' hop CT roun' in CT gram dance O lief. Uch huh, yer kain tamper wid me, case l'se been heah some time-come heah fore de leaves put out"
 ""Jasper," said the judge, "you are too old te talk that way"
 "Yas, sah, yas; too ole ter talk dat way, but aim too ole ter look back, see CT ghost an den run ag'in' CT tree an kill mersef. Yer may call me foolish ef yer wants ter but I'd ruther be CT fool an hab CT good apertite den Ter be CT smart man an be skeered inter de grabe. l'se had seb'ral ercasions ter 'sider desc yere p'ints an yer dun heard whut I'se prock- lermate. Good ebenin, sah."
 Hold on, Jasper" the judge called. The negro stopped. "You believe in the power of the rabbit foot, don't you"
 " Wall, ssh," scratching his head, "I does sorter b'lebe in de art O de rabbit foot"
 "I daresay you have one in your pocket"
 "Yas, sah, has; has fur CT fack."
 "Well, don't you know that if you cross yourself time or two with that foot no ghost can molest you ?"
 "Who tole yer dat p
 "Sam Jones, the great revivalist, says so."
 "Who, dat man whut dribes up de mourners like dribin' sheep in de pen ?"
 "Yes."
 "Wall, den, dar mus be sumfin in de fack"
 "There is, undoubtedly"
 " Is yer sho' dat de holy white man said dat fack" 1"
 "I heard him say it."
 "Nuff said. lse gwine alter dem postez"
 He climbed onto the wagon and drove away. Nat Boyers, the judges son, had overheard the conversation, and, slyly en- tering the house, he secured white ta- blecloth, and by crossing 6eld reached the graveyard before Jasper arrived. Nat euveloped in the tablecloth, was seated near a grave when the negro drove up. asper was i'll at ease, but contrived to sing tuneless song:
 doan wanter stay in dis ole worl'
 Good Lawd, take me home,
 Fur sin comes CT roun' in CT reg'lar whirl,
 Good Lawd, take me home.
 Moses an Aaron lubed de Lam',
 Good Lawd, take me home,
 An da fed de people on de gospel ham,
 Good Lawd. take me home.
 Oh, yes, good Lawd, do take me ter rest
 Wid CT hallelujah kiverin'
 Ober my breast,
 An
 "Who dat fiingin' at me ?" Nat, while crossing the field, had found a bone, and had thrown it at the negro. Who dat fling CT chunk at me3" he repeated, as he nervously crossed him. self with the rabbits foot. Good Lawd, 'taint no chunk. It's CT bone O de hu- man famblyp'
 Just then he discovered the "ghost." He dropped on his knees, crossed him self with the rabbits foot, and said:
 "Doan know whut yer is, but keep er- way. Mout be CT saint, an yer mout be CT Great Lawdl'
 The boy had made a lunge at him. Jasper did not look back, but, like brown smear across the dim disk of twilight on the hill, he fingered for a moment and then disappeared.
 What's the matter ?" the judge asked,
 "Nothin' CT tall, sah, nothin' CT tall. Jes thought I'd come back an ax yer CT few p'ints. Did de holy pusson say dat CT rabbits foot would keep CT ghost er- way2"
 "Yes."
 "Wall, sah, l jes trapped in CT wuz passin' ter tell yer dat de holy pusson mout not uv tole CT lie, but dat he pro- gicks wid de truf in CT skanlus manner. Yer'll fine yer blame mules an CT wagin load O sperets ober by dc grabe-yard. Goodbye, sah.'
 A Cheap Pair of Pictures.
 For forty cents we will mail. post.naid