The Forrest City times., 1893-11-03
STORY OF A LONG SLEEP.
And the Strange Disappearance of
 Watermelon.


 noon in the month of July. The air had been hot apd su try, but light, cool breeze had sprung up and occa sional cirrus clouds overspread the sun, and for awhile subdued his fierceness. We were all out on the piazza as the coolest place we could find-my wife, my sister-in-law and I. The only sounds that broke the Sabbath stiffness were the hum of an occasional yagrant bum- blebee or the fragmentary song of mocking bird in neighboring elm, who lazily trolled stave of melody now and then as sample of what he could do in the cool of the morning or after light shower, when the condi- tions would be favorable to exertion.
 Annie" said l. suppose to relieve the deadly dullness of the afternoon, that we go out and pull the big water melon and send for Col. Pembertons $ folks to come over and help us eat it"
 ''Is it ripe yet?" she inquired, sleepi- ly, brushing away a troublesome fly that had impudently settled on her hair.
 Yes, l think so. l was out yester- day with Julius, and we thumped it and concluded it would be fully ripe by to morrow or next day. But think it is perfectly safe to pull it to- day"
 Well, if you're sure. dear, we'll go. But how can we get it up to the house? It's too big to tote"
 "I'll step around to Julius cabin and ask him to go down with the wheelbar- row and bring it up," replied.
 Julius was an elderly colored man who worked on the plantation and lived in small house on the place. few rods from my own residence. His daughter was our cook, and other mem- bers of his family served us in differ ent capacities
 As turned the corner of the house l saw Julius coming up the lane. He had on his Sunday clothes and was probably returning from the afternoon meeting at the Sandy Run Baptist church. of which he was leading mem Der and deacon.
 Julius l said, i've are going out to pull the big watermelon and we want you to take the wheelbarrow and go with us and bring it mp to the house"
 Does yer reckon dat watermillun's ripe yit, sah?" said Julius "Didn't pear ter me it went quite plunk enuff yestiddy fer ter be pull befor ter morrer"
 Il think it is ripe enough, Julius."
 'tMawning 'ud be a better time fer ter pull it, sah, wen de night air an de jews done cool it off nice.'
 Probably that's true enough, but we'll put it on ice and that will cool it. and I'm afraid if we leave it too long some one will steal it."
 I 'spec's dat's so,' said the old man with confirmatory shake of the head. 'Yer takes chances wen yer pulls it, en yer takes chances wen yer don. Dey's a lot CT DO white trash round heah wat ain none too good fer ter steal it. l seed some un 'em loafin Tong de big road on mer way home fum chu'ch jes' now. l has ter watch mer own chicken coop to keep chick'ns huff fer Sunday eatin'. I'll go en git de w'eelborrow.
 Julius had a profound contempt for poor whites and never let slip an oppor- tunity for expressing it. He assumed that we shared this sentiment, while in fact our feeling toward this listless race was something entirely different They were, like Julius himself, the product of system which they had not created and which they did not know enough to resist.
 As the old man turned to go away he began to limp and put his hand to his knee with an exclamation of pain.
 Whats the matter, Julius?" asked my wife.
 "Yes, Uncle Julius, what ails you9"