The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-07-11
UNCLE ONESIMUS.

durable. and Uncle Onesimus would look
round and say between the acts:
do you like this place? Are you COM
Portable? Or would you like to go some
where else?"
And the dinners too! We visited all the
best restaurants In London. Uncle
Onesimus would send his valet round TO
secure good table, and j remember the
air of empressement with which VIC were
always received. The head walter would
usher US TO our seats with the most obse-
quious politeness, and listen 10 Uncle
Onesimus's orders with a deferential at
tentiOn wonderful to see. And every now
and then during the dinner Uncle Onest-
mus would CLEAN at us through his gold
trimmed spectacles and say:
DO you like what you are having? Are
you cOmfortable?"
One or two incidents stand out with
especial distinctness. Clayton had been
asked where he would like 20 go, and had
suggested the Christy MINISTRIES. We went
there in due course. and the boy was de-
lighted with the singing and dances, and
with the venerable jokes OF MIR. John-
SON." CHANGING at Uncle Onesimus. / saw
that he was looking on with an aspect OF
settled and unmoved gravity which was
quite unusual with him. Clayton saw IL
too and was surprised. He glanced once
or twice dublously at the old mans face;
then an idea struck him.
ION, Uncle Onesimus." he cried out,
I'm sure you don't like this. I'm so
sorry 1 came here. Shall we go away
directly? ! would like to-
Uncle Onesimus beamed for moment
tenderly on his little friend.
"Why, no. Harry" he said, we may
as we'll see II out"
Before the performance was over.
Clayton was laughing as merrily as ever,
and Uncle Onesimus smiled responsive
ly, but as we were going out he said
They are not really men Of color,
those performers; they only pretend TO
be. Not the real thing. you know, Mr..
BaywiCx." And after Clayton had gone
, TO bed Uncle Oneslmus talked with me
for some time about the negro race.
There is a colored university in the
states" he said land they have some
mighty smart students-B.A.'s, you
know. some of them
And he looked at me little doubtful
~. Then he mentioned the name OF
Douglass and of some other dusky nota-
bility whom l forget.
The other incident, which made a still
deeper impression on me, took place in
the Albert hall One day we had casu-
ally dropped IN there for a few minutes
TO have a look at the huge empty build
ing. and Uncle Opesimus began giving
us some details of the great organ. He
had all the figures at his fingers ends,
how many rows Of pipes, how much
weight OF metal. and so on.
Clayton's young imagination was fired
with the sense of tile colossal and he
cried out: "Oh. say. | should like 10
hear some one play IT with all his might"
/ don't know how Uncle Oncsmus man
aged IL, but when he. on some preteXt,
took us back 10 the hall two days later
there was some one I'm the organ-lOft
looking out for US. and in moment or
two the mighty instrument was in full
operation. From what I can remember
OF the first piece. / think II must have
been the overture to Der Freischu.z;'
| know / liked II very much, and so did
Clayton. Afterward came some march,
and then-I presume out of compliment
TO Uncle Oneslmus-the organist gave a
sort OF fantasia of American melodies.
Perhaps these proved a trivial theme for
so potent an instrument. but the effect
on Uncle Onesimus was very striking.
He followed the music silently, and
seemed TO forget us entirely. BY and by
there came a plalntive melody. and. look
ing at Uncle Onesimus, ] saw the tears
We're rolling down his cheeks. Half to
himself. half TO US. ne sang:
=" Way down upon the Swanee river.
There's where my heart is turning ever,
There's where the old folks stay.
All the world is sad and dreary.
Everywhere / roam;
Oh. darlSies. how my heart grows weary.
Far from the old folks at home"
After a while the music took a martial
tone. Uncle Onesimus sprang TO his feet
and paced mp and down I'm growing eX-
element. beating time vehemently with
his gOld-headed cane while the organ
pealed forth laundering chords. He was
like man TRANSPORTED. and we gazed
al him for a few seconds in establishment
till he burst into speech:
"Dey was poor slaves-poor black
slaves, crushed beneath the cruel masters,
and no one helped them. But at last the
time came-the fulness Of times-and the
angel Of the Lord blew his trumpet, and
dey was free! De poor slaves was freei
Listen to Il! Tramp, tramp, tramp, the
boys are marching Can't yo' see them.
see their blue coats? Can't yo' hear the
tread of their feet? Can't yo' see the
waving OF the flags? 1t is the army OF
freedom-the army Of the Lords de-
liverance! Listen again:
John Browns body lies Wondering in
the grave,
But his soul goes marching on
The organ ceased and the old man sank
down in chair and covered his face
with Is hands. Soon the majesty of the
HalIelujah chorus was quivering through
the air, but he sat still silent, bent for
ward with covered face. and IL was rot
till we were some distance from the build
that he recovered his usual cheerful and
benign demeanor. This was. / think, the
only time when / could catch more than
the faintest signs Of the negro in his man
ner of speaking. Ordinarily he had a
pretty strong American accent, but he had
somehow conquered the difficulties which
the African has in speaking the white
mans tongue. That evening Uncle Onesl-
mus talked TO me a great deal OF the great
war. 1 heard the names of Chattanooga
and Chancellorsville and the browning
victory Of Gettysburg.
"Harry's father was through a good
deal of it." he said. at was queer the
way he came to go out. He was i'm his
club one day, just when the war broke
out. along with lot more officers; they
We're all saying then that the South was
sure to win, that the South were gentle
men and the North all shopkeepers. and
he stood up for the North But he
couldn't talk, he never could-he was al
ways very quiet was Harry's father: but
he Just went home and sold out of the
army, and went over to America He
was wounded quite early I'm the war,
and he never quite got over ii. But he
was the best man that ever lived was
Harry's father; / knew him cut there"
When that pleasant holiday was over
I didn't see much of Clayton for a long
at school, and we only met occasionally.
But when I said farewell TO Oxford and
began eating my dinners at the Middle
temple, / found that Uncle Onesimus
had left New York and installed himself
in London. Paragraphs about his move
ments came up now and then in the
papers, and a biographical notice with a
half-page portrait appeared In one Of the
religious weeklies. 1t seemed he had been
a slave, but had escaped to Canada. Dur
ing the war he offered himself as a
volunteer. His services were apparently
not accepted, and he fitted out at his
ind Of