The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-05-04
old Gilbert. unabashed.

Amity had not stirred a step, and
Glory-Ann, in great wrath, turned upon
her and gave her box on the ear. ''Tek
dat, en- go!" she said, fiercely. "Stan
roun' gapin' lax a hoptoad after f1y.".
"Amity is my niger" shrieked Missy.
'You got no right to hit her"
81 gwan hit her ez my Judgment IA
vors," said Glory-Ann, as she sat down
upon the floor and took Missy feet in her
lap and rubbed them admirngly; they
were pretty little feet. but you gwan
git em all crippled up wild de roomatiz, "
said Glory-Ann. "You amt gvan dance
none when you git growed, see dat
plain"
Il don't want to Dance" said Missy,
beginning to cry.
While Glory-Ann was demonstrating
against this Amity came flying back; she
had pair of stockings in one hand and
the linen CATERS in the other; her eyes
were round with fright; her face wore
that peculiar ashen hue that stands for
pallor in the negro race.
"Mawster is dat mad, for sho!' she an
nOunced in a thrilling whisper, with up
lifted right hand.
is you toll him bout Missy gittin' in
the rain, you fool nigger?" demanded
Glory-Ann, rising up, rigid with wrath.
" 'Clar' ter Gracious, L amt toP moth
in'r Amity protested, putting up her
arms and ducking her head, in antici-
patton of another box on the ear.
IL.
sobbed Missy.
Eur shot, asseverated Amity, drop
ping her arms. "Missle-v irey is a moan
in en- a-wringin' her hans, en- Miss
Pauline, she's a-squeechin', en- sayin'
she amt nuver gwan git over hit, en-
Miss Flo's a-cryin' too, en- mawster is ies'
a-stompin' roun' Mawse Nick's room"
EN- why Mawse Nick?' demanded the
expectant crowd.
"Gone! Gone! Gomez walled Missy.
''Iruth, Lawd!' sighed old Gilbert.
''Dat hukkom Missy is comet me in de
rain"
Aunt Dicey, who had been leaning
forward in strained attention, her hands
on her knees, sank back among her
feathers, and began to Groom a doleful
hymn:
Trouble, trouble, trouble, de troubles OBJ dis
Torl"
She was a pious Baptist; SO was old
Gilbert; he joined the strain, bobbing
his head and patting his foot. They
seemed to find comfort in the perform
ance.
Glory-Ann sat down on the floor and
drew Missy into her lap. whey he
gone, Honey? Tell yo' nanny" she
cOaxed.
He's done got married to Dosia Fur
nival," sobbed Missy.
de Lawd amend u.s." Glory-Ann ejac-
ulated, feebly.
Old Gilbert ceased his singing, to re-
mark, resignedly, ''Hit's fac"
''Dat POI white trash?" cried Glory
Ann, recovering her spirit. ''Why, dem
Furnivals can't count half dozen mig
gers, big en- little, amongst 'em all"
'Dat'r SOL the assembly assented, in
scornful chorus.
''And l don't carer cried missy, re-
sentfully. ''Dosia is prettier II my cousin
Flora and gooder too"
Whatever consolation or rebuke Glory
Ann might have uttered in reply was
arrested by the sound of heavy weight
dragged along the piazza floor, ana every
ear was strained nquestioning attention,
when the colonel s voice was heard shout
ing:
"Tom Quash! Griffin Jim!'
''Suh!' responded Miss Victorines adj
mires, in startled haste, nearly knock
ing each other down as they sped out of
the kitchen.
''Take that out of my sight" said the
colonel, spurning Nicholas trunk with
his foot. "Make yourselves fine for
Sunday go-to-meeting."
''Yessuh, mawster."
The colonel strobe back into the house.
Tom Quash and Griffin Jim stared at each |
other through the gloom, in unspoken |
of the fact that they had |
fallen heirs to goodly heritage; then, |
between them, they carried the trunk |
into the kitchen and began forthwith to
discuss the division of its contents.
''Dat 'broidered welwit wesk Mawse |
Nick hisse'f alters PROMISED me" said |
Griffin jim.
''You kin tex hit eff hit wuz promised, !
but I'm gwan have dem panterloons wild /
the vines a-creepin' up de s1aes,' Tom
Quash declared.
Old Gilbert rose in wrath. ''You sassy
fool niggers," said he. pushing them
away and taking his seat on the trunk, |
"doan you know mawsters dat mad he |
amt Onerstandin' what he's doin'? You |
relin he gwan tolerate you struttin' /
round in dat vesk en- dem pantaloons? /
You amt gwan tech Mawse Nicholas |
clothes, douten you slaughter me fust. |
I'm gwan resz forwardin' dis trunk ter
Mawse Nick, tubbe sho."
He rose up and glanced around. Aunt
Dicev and Uncle Dublin nodded ap-
proval, and Glory-Ann spoke out. ODE
Lawd reward you, ole man. and wiped
her eyes.
"Brer Dublin. said old Gilbert-Dub-
lin was his brother in the church-''len'
ne a holpn' ham. eff YOU please. l gwan
tote dis home, tell l gifts som light on de
business.
To be Continued.