The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-04-07
MADE HIM FEEL CURIOUS,

An old negro, in northern city, hearing, as he stood near 6 saloon, the somewhat wavering strains of "Ps Gwine Back to Dixie," entered the place and requested the singer to sing the song again. When his request had been granted, he stood for mo- ment, turning his hat round and round, and then said:
 "Sump'n in dat ar song dat sorter makes nc feel cuis."
 "You lived in .the south, didn't you?"
 "Yas, sah, bornd dar; bornd on de Nash plantation, 'way down on de Missip riber. Long time sense l wuz down dar. Alter de war l flung CT ole cast blow up in de cornder O de fence an sorter kicked it, did, an says: You mer lay dar ez laung ez yer wants ter, but ez fur merse'f, wy, l gwine way fun yere. Deze we're cuckle- burrs an'pusley an lambs quar- ter mout suit you, but I dun sorter rig erbove lem. Pm gwine 'way fum we're, l tell you.' An l did go way, too. want no boy; better b''ebe l want, wen I had CT wife, an some chillun might nigh grown. I wucked mer way on up yere an den pitched in ter make CT libin'. Folks wuz perlite, sah yas, da wuz mighty perlite an da didn' cuss me CT tall, but soon foun' out one thing. Foun' out dat dad take de las cent had of owed it ter lem. tell you, it want long till dun cut some eye teef bout CT inch an CT half laung. It wuz CT scuffle, CT mighty hard rassle, but l gunter make CT little suthin'. Now I's putty well off. Got one son 'ployed by de state. Ain't CT book keeper nur nothin' O dat sort, sah. Wars his stripes an wucks right erlaung wid de udder men. Vas, sah. Ps putty we'll fixed, but I'd like ter go back down wander whar l kicked dat blow up in de cornder O de fence. would like ter see de runnin' vine and de yaller mayapple dat grows in de woods. b'l'ebe could go out in de fel an set down wid my back agin CT tree an lissun ter de crows fur CT hour at CT time."
 "You wouldn't like to be a slave again, would your"
 "No, sah, I wouldn't. De nigger dat wants ter be CT slave ergin is cider CT fool UT too big CT coward ter face de 'sponcerbilities O dis yere life. No, sah, doan wanter be nuthin' but jes whut I is, but I tell you whut's CT fack, I has got CT mighty love fur dat ole place down wander, an it mout be foolish in me, but wen dies would like ter be buried down dar 'mungst dem cuckle- burrs an pusly an lambs quarter. I would ruther be buried down dar wid CT rail-pen erroun me, wid de bell COW reachin' ober alter de fox tail grass dat grows roun' mer head, den ter be buried up yere an hab a tombstone high ez dis house. Wush I wuz right dar dis mint, ketchin' dem big, yaller pearch outen de bayou. I would like ter set on CT log an see de ole turkle sunnin' his self on CT chunk. 1 ken almos' yere dem birds sing now, am ken almos' ketch de scent O CT dogwood tree in bloom. We'se got snow am sleet am cuttin' wins up yere, but de leaves is out down dar, an de redishes is big ernuff ter a: by dis time. De ole black 'oman, wid her red hankercher tied round her head is singin' ez she rakes up de dead leaves dat hab blowed inter de ole cabin yard, am de boys is rasselin' on de grass. De ole man is lookin' round fur his fishin'- pole, an'-hello, who's dat walkin down de lane like he own de country? Oats de nigger pastor O Mt. Zion church. Mt. Zion is down in de bot tom on de bayou, an sometimes de water comes am floats its pulpit er- roun', but it's Mt. Zion all de same. Dat nigger preacher is out alter sum'p'n ter eat. He gwine ter git it,