The McCook tribune., 1891-01-30
THE DEATH OF "OLE JOE." !"

The dark. drizzling rain. lowering
clouds and heavy atmosphere bring
back to me so we'll the night so many
years ago on which poor Ole Joe
breathed his last. / say ''Ole joe"
Such was he always called by every
one, old and young, on the plantation,
l really believe.
Some of the negroes never thought
he was anything else than old-in 9TH
er words, born old. From my earliest
childhood he was always the same.
Tall and slightly bent. with shaking.
rheumatic walk, grizzly hair and beard.
1t may have been natural, it may have
been from respect to his old age, but
Ole Joe was looked up to by every 9TH
er negro on the place, and had pc
culiar way of adapting himself to any
crowd he was thrown amongst. He
was favorite with all the children.
and had knack of telling stories and
before or since. 1t may not have been
what he said so much as the manner
In which it was related, but certain it
is that all the children were firm be-
levers in his stories. and looked upon
him as something of an oracle.
For many years everything glided
along peacefully. until my fathers
death, and then what a change. AL
WAYS kind master and good neigh
Dor. his death was mourned by all.
We had scarcely gotten over the shock
when, not long after, news was brought
to the house that Arthur, an only
brother. had been found dead on 1.-The
big road" 1t proved but too true.
He had received severe internal
injuries. and died before help could
reach him. 1 will draw a veil over
the next few years. Many changes
had taken place on the plantation, but
/ will tell you about the death of ''Ole
joe" He had been sick and decrepit
long time. but no one had thought
the end was so near. One day | was
busily attending household affairs.
when one of the women rushed in and
cried:
20, Miss Hattie. do for de Lords
sake come to Ole Joe. l jes know he's
dyin' out thar in the field"
l rushed out where he was, and
when reached the spot he was lying
on the ground. The negroes, paralyzed
with fear, were afraid to touch him.
His breathing was faint and irregular
so faint, indeed, that it was hardly
perceptible. Giving orders to the men
to take him into the cabin at once, | dis
patched one of the darkies for ply
Sician and hurried to the house to get
restoratives. These were administered,
and he had partially recovered when
~, ir,sy
some time, and having given directions
to Nanny Jane, who was to act as
nurse, he took his departure.
Before leaving. however. he told me
he thought Ole Joes time was run, and
his death was only the question of
few hours. | went over to the bed
and sat down by the side of one who
had ever been such f;4thful friend
and servant. As l sat there his eyes
opened and he gazed around the room
as one woald after consciousness from
long siege of illness. He looked at
me. then at the negroes standing
round. aud | saw that he recognized
all. He spoke slowly and distinctly,
though with great effort. He said:
Il bin tellin you long time l was
gettin' feeble, and now l tell you that
Ole Joe'll soon be gone. You've all
been good and kind chillun, and rs
mighty thankful. But, oh. Lordy, jes'
to think that l shall soon see Marse
Henry and Ole Miss and Marse Abe
and all the folks Is see buried on. this
ere place. And in his weakness and
excitement the tears rolled down
his cheeks. l gave him the medicine
prescribed which seemed to ease him,
and left the cabin soon to return.
News was brought to the house that
he was resting. and it was just before
sunrise that l went over again. There
was no change, except that his voice
had grown weaker, and his talk was
occasionally wild and disconnected.
Sometimes he thought he was in the
field picking cotton. Again he was
hunting the fox with ''Marse Hen
ry," and the old man would rise from
his pillow with his imaginary bride.
Now he was joining in one of the plan
A.t;op canna narar hofnra had L