The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1886-07-23
AN oLD-TiME MAMAN.

An Occasion OF the Deepest Displeasuro-
Fire of Injured Innocence.
It was one Of those brilliantly warm
evenings recently when New Orleans
citizen stops mops, and considers himself
over-hasty in the unkind remarks he made
on the late winter freezing manners
High up on St Charles avenue, directly
in front of swell olive-green mansion,
stood patch of color that would have de-
lighted Fortuny. She was big and black,
with the fine polish of ebony. Her soft,
dark wool had been wrapped SO artistically
that each slender roll acted as an interroga-
tion point for her whole head. A guadily
rich veil anu orange turban set off the deep
purple and white scalloped gown to admira-
tion. Huge brass hoops festooned her ears,
completing the tout ensemble Of chic thor
oughbred cook lady.
But of what avail is vain outward adorn-
ment when a treacherous folly has attacked
the heart! Overtaken in weak moment,
this high type OF African virtue had fallen,
allowing the sly worm of the still to crawl
in and take possession of the fair temple Of
her body-clouding clear brain, dimming
acute reasoning powers
The chief occasion Of her displeasurs at
present was a slim young oak standing in
extensively near the sidewalk. To her in
famed imagination it took the form of an
indignant mistress who had that morning
discharged her
The conversation began by the dark lady
throwing off all impediments to free discus
sion. The first thing to go were her shoes;
quickly followed Northumberland, apron,
with general loosening of all strings con-
filming her ample charms. She alluded to
hoI fns$ fri s,, FEEL
Il dan slave, yes Lord! dun driv an slave
nuf ter er made o.d Unck Job hissef
cuss that mean, low down Ginkins' stock.
From ther Growing NV ther rooster tell
plum dark, who, | AK, dun stood eny
higher ter der stove or dnn swetted morn
me!
Il bin 'cussed wrongfully. bin spit on,
kicked like nubbins under them Ginkins'
proud feet an now gwine ter hev honerbie
vingenee'"
A free fight followed. The old party's
eyes rolled, and she made for the sapling
with the fire of injured innocence. The
blow was shocking, she rocked and reeled,
but went for the tree again and again,
exclaiming at the injustice of poor white
folks.
We'll, why don't yer gimme my money!
Gimme my money, say. Cline it ter me,
or III bust yer right wide open. Shores Pm
name what Pm name, gwine shake every
stingy tooth outer yer head ef yer don't pay
me thet two bits what yer owe me. amt
gwine stan nun yer mean ways en- ef I can't
ask ther money outer yer, gwine snatch it
oudaciously."
The gender mood sweet wine provokes
now took possession, and warm tears fell
like spring shower from her wabbling
eye!.
Il amt nothing but one old fool niger,
Miss May, an lowed ter live and die by
you and them chilans. / feel like yer wus
my own chile, fore Gawd I do. Amt yer
gwine to let yer old cook come back in her
kitchen an wait ON yera ~
Honey, / was just funnin' with yer this
mawnin, carryin' ON pack of foolishnese
jest to see what yer gwine to say. amt
never drunk no whisky, you knows never,
newer, I new" ~ ... ,.....
Here the sobs abated, she sunk slowly
down, the broad lids dropped, and in five
minutes only the occasional waggling of a
toe as the flies became too personal evfnced
life of any description in the late belliger-
ent-New Orleans Times Democrat