The Goodland republic. [volume] (Goodland, Kan.) 1891-1907, 1892-01-01

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sgSsssSSl} since gone toglory,
~ had fought in it.
She knew that her mistress had once
been rich, and that the dismal planta-
ton was formerly the scene OF lavish
luxury and plenty.
She had no remembrance Of per-
sonal kind connected with slavery,
her little yellow visage having failed
to appear on this earth in time for it.
AS far as she could gather from her
rather miscellaneous kindred, it had
been q period of much eating and
drinking, assured and variegated cloth
ing, free medicines and occasional pun
ishments, soon forgotten.
However, Tildie made the best OF
her prosaic existence, though the
sharp black eyes looking restlessly
out from her mulatto face were al
ways on the watch for new possibili-
ties. There was something Caucasian
in her long straight nose, formed Tor
prying into business not her own;
something Caucasian also in the thin
lips expressing secrecy and intrigue
Her hair seemed to give the lie to
the intellect revealed in her counter
ance, for it was intensely "kinky,"
and she dressed it on purely African
principles. Mr.. Elgin, from the next
plant alton, used to say that it resem-
bled the "Holy Mount" for it was
gathered into about half q hundred
minute and shining braids, each tied
with a scarlet string and prone to stand
upright
Miss Maria had suggested black as a
substitute, and presented Tildie on
her fourteenth birthday with q
bolt of narrow sable ribbon.
claw, Miss Maria" she had ans
wered, II amt in mo- ming like you is.
De Lawd knows l done feel bad bout
po' old massa, and | nussed him and
sot up with him regular, but it amt
going ter do him no good, me putting
black on my head"
Tildie was fifteen now, and the most
expert housemaid on the river. She
had always shown q wonderful faculty
for nursing the sick; distinguishing and
dropping medicines with unfalling sue
cess and cheering the patient with n
tact all her own. The gift OF nursing
had been given to this little colored
girl as the gift of music or painting is
given to others.
Miss Maria was the head OF the
family now, which had dwindled down
until there were only two to hold up
the once proud name. She was the
old masters second wife-a woman
he had met in the far East before the
war. She tried faithfully to do her
duty in the sphere OF life to which it
had pleased God to call her, but it
had always been uphill work. 1t is
hard for an "old maid" to turn sud
denly into wife at best-harder still
when she must change climate and
traditions also.
MISS Murla was good to her little
step-daughter, Aurore; she tried to
teach her as she had been taught, and
so instill into that Southern maiden
the habits of New Hampshire. Aurore
was twenty-five now, and the failure
was very apparent; nothing whatever
had been instilled. The girl had sim
ply developed into the sweet, unlearned
maturity which suited her. She had
beauty and q ace, and talked with the
charm OF Creole women-a charm in
herited from bygone courtly ances'
tors who had done her reading and
study for her.
She was swinging in hammock on
this pleasant June morning, her tiny
foot just tapping the gallery with the
rocking motion. She had a book in
her hand, but she was not reading
one pink finger tip retained an imag-
mary place in the volume, while the
other arm clasp1d the meshes above
her head.
Her dress was white, the soft trans
parent white so dear to the Creole
heart. Miss Maria had no sympathy
with gauze-hke textures. A touch Of
starch and some opaqueness were nee
essary to her self-respect even in wash
materials.
"What ore you doing, Aurore?" her
stepmother queried sharply.
Aurore smiled. "Nothing maman,"
She always called this forbidding
guardian by the gentle French version
of the maternal.
81 was trying to read poetry, but it
is so deliciousIy cool that was won
dering whether would go to sleep or
have Tildie make me some lemonade"
Miss Maria jingled the keys in a
little basket, which she always carried
as a depository for those articles.
The sound was suggestive of the elder
woman's dissatisfaction.
81 would like you to interest your
self in something serious, Aurore,
either in housekeeping cares, or in a
course of improving reading. If the
feminine element of the South is not
going to advance, would really like
to know what was the good OF civil
war"
THAT is what I always thought, "
Aurore asserted. What was thegeod
ofit-except to make us poor?"
Miss Maria sighed. This wasindeed
q hopeless case.