The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1890-05-20
AMERICA.

his name was America, OUT IL SQOulQ
have been Apollo, because he was feet
of foot and 1.-the and graceful of limb, and
his sweeth9art's name was Daphne. He
pursued her, fguratively speaking, around
the house, out the front gate, down the
road, across the corn6eld, through the
cane brake and back home again every
Sunday afternoon. But he could not
catch her.
1t was before the war, and they were
slaves. He was solid black aud his face
had a oily sheen; but his nasal organ
was long enough to place him outside the
classification of "hat-nosed niggers."
Daphne was also as dark as an hour be-
fore day, and consequently had no objec-
ton to his color. Her complaint against
him was posed on higher ground.
"'Taint no usen akin me ter malay yer.
Merely, for I amt gwine ter do it less'n
yer do what l AK yer to do
"But, Daffny," he pleaded, placing his
hat on a stool and wiping his brow with
a bandana handkerchief, "you know l
KANT be er hippercrit. SpoSen I'd jine
de church. Wouldn't 1 lose my fgion
de fus' time I plowed in er new groun's?
1 tell yer wen er root flies back en- hits
me on de shin, Use 'bleeged ter swar. 1t
he'ps talk de so'ness outen de bruise."
%Y knows I likes yer, but I won't hab
yer. You's de only iel niger dat mis-
sus let's come inter dis kitchen, kase she
says you'se got some sense and knows
how ter ack like er generman: but eff I'd
malay you ez you IL I'd halter leave heah
an 60 down ter de ~plantashun. Missus
couldn't bide yer. Yo' promisin' ter stop
cussin' amt gwine ter do no good. En-
niger KANT quit his meanness 'cep'n he
leans on de Lawd."
America went to work next morning.
1t was hot day in June. The sky was in
tensely blue; a startled quail rustled the
still leaves of the dark-green corn before
him a woodpecker ratified off his snare
drum beat on a dead limb. The negro
was almost pious. "Il fool Daffny by
not takin' de Lawd'S name in vain dis
day, sho'."
A storm came up when the afternoon
was half gone. While unhitching his
mule it stepped on his foot. He could
not utter a word until he had mounted
the animal, when he turned loose the
pent-up profanity Of a day. A streak of
lightning split the air, followed by thun-
der and a smell of burnt leather. The
mule was dead and the sole of one of
Americas programs was gone. His wits
were gone, too, but he found his way to
the quarters"
Next Sunday he was baptized. "No,
Daffny," he said, solemnly, dropping her
hand from his as he stood at the kitchen
door. 81 amt itten ter marcy yer yit.
De Lawd was mussiful ter me. l mus
show i'm dat l Tub i'm. When Use called
ter preach I'll ak yer ergin fur yer han"
Three months afterwardh he was "called,"
and they were married. "Missus taught
them to read and write, and they were
the wonder and envy of their brethren
and sisters of the faith. Tue war came
and went, and they left the farm and took
residence in New Orleans, where America
tended a large flock and p~rospered accord
ingly. He was a wonderful speaker, and
many people of wealth f~requented his
church, always leaving him a practical re-
minder Of their appreciation Of his talents.
He grew in fame, and went to the Legis-
lature.
One morning the poStman handed him
a letter. 1t was for his wife. They went
into the parIor and read it. 1t said:
"MY DEAR COOP SERVANT DAPHNE {:
Papa is dead. The old home must be
| sold, unless | can borrow five hundred
dollars. II it passes into strangers hands
I will not care to live in it any more,
| ever if its new owners were to offer me
q home with them. I was always good
to you, and I know you loved me. l
hear you are prospecting. If you can help
me I know you will so it is no use for
ne to write more than this. Your mis-
tresS in sorrow. DELLA.'
"Does er boat go up this ~evenin'
Daffny p he asked. Look in the paper
an see."
Eyes, at half pas FIVE"
You go down au' gage passage fur
two"
my own sweet darlin' purity lady,
wy didn't you write sooner? Whut did
you 90 and worry yerself even fur er day
fur, when you knowed Daffny wuz Ell
Twin an wIllin' ter give you cherry cent
she had eff you needed it. Did you think
dis chile 'ud let de ole house 60, eff hel
dollars could sabe II"
"No, Daphne, no., but sit down
America; 1 insist on it."
"Deed I will, Miss Della, fur I knows
yer means it. No, indeed. Mos all d.
Ian is sole of, but dis ole house am yourn
Heah's de deed. No, you doan' owe MI
nuthir'. We owe it all ter de Lawd. HI
ken see er laung ways erhead-er mighty
laung ways; an wen He flung dat thun
derbolt at me erbout ten yeahs ergo, H
said: IN make er Christyun outen di
black rascal, so he ken be wu'f sump'n ind
worl." An eff I wuz ter stay on dis vail
of tears fur er millyun yeahs, my wu'
wouldn't shine brighter'n it does now
CHARLES S. BLACKBURN.
ADITT~r r0n v0T1Ay~ 1ryr1-r-~