Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1894-12-16

Is none. but that matters nothing. The
good woman Is 80 overlald with bags ana
parcels you can barely zee her to the
shoulders. She rides upon a meal-sack
with jug In each end. II W siung
across her saddle. Just underneath big
roll Of homemade i,nsey. In her lap
she carries another roll OF country jeans.
and slung at the pommel big calico
reticule. crammcd 10 bursting with home
knit yarn socks.
Few women Of the better class come
to town upon such days. They have
though. lively and personal interest In
the Christmas market, the Christmas
charfering. For the thrifty among them
send In wagon loads OF poultry, tierces OF
lard, hams, honey. vinegar. potatoes
sweet and Irish-apples. cabbage, beans.
field peas, besides butter and eggs that
quite put out OF countenance the darkies'
offerings. These things and many more
are sold by husband or brother or father
often for much less than they would fetch
n week later, or what they might have
brought a week earlier. In hardly any
of the towns do shipping facilities admit
OF sending such freight to bigger mar
ket. SO when the local demand II glutted
II is impossible sometimes to give away
what has come In late.
THE ENTRY GRAF.
It Is q sight to see q darby fetch In
the extra crop. Often he has but two or
three hundred pounds. so he feels that
II would be rank extravaganza TO pay toll
for wagon. when his slide goes free at
bridge and toll-bar. The slide is home
made,s an exaggerated rough sled, with
standards at the sides. Sometimes a
mule is the motive power. sometimes
NJ n Gin ole The
driver walks beside II, with often his
whole family trooping In his wake. "gwine
ter see de crap SOLE" and take hand In
spending what Il fetches.
The driver Is q stout lad, blacker than
darkness. with garments patched to the
degree that you cannot imagine them hold
ing one patch more. He has the rope
line about his wrist, and 'gee-haw's" and
''hup up dar's" in the most approved
teamster fashion, yet the mule he drives
pays not the smallest heed to him. In
stead. she picks her way to suit herself,
| now and then glancing out Of the tail OF
her eys at her owner. who walks on the
other side.
Dat dar Nance mule. she gut sense
you hear me?' he says to his wife, who
trudges at his elbow. "Dest look at 'er
| now! Amt none 'er dem big wagin teams
gwine crowd her outen de smoove road"
Nance err good critter. / d'know whut
US would do 'dout 'er." the woman says,
with something like q sigh. Indeed, she
does care for Nance. next to her
children; but to-day II hurts to see her
draw a burden so light. But last summer
was so dry-she gets no farther on her
thought Already she is painfully con-
| scious Of how little the 'extry crap Will
bring-and there are so many needs TO
supply with IT.
Poor mother! Who shall blame her If.
| when she stands jingling the scant coins
| in her hand she forgets all about the
necessaries, and makes a wild leap into
the unnecessaries? She has so little; she
wants so muchl Contrive as she might,
she could not get a garment apiece for
her flock. What wonder If she leaves them
TO happy rags and tatters buying for
one a top. another a red, tin trumpet. a
third, horse on wheels, a fourth and
fifth. dolls and strings of beads; and for
all flre-crackers a-plenty, and candy out
vying the rainbow. The big lad who drove
had powder and shot for his gun; the
mother takes her own share In pair OF
red, worsted wristlets, and sugar for
Christmas cake. Flour. butter, eggs. and
meat she has already planned to get from
the planters wife.
DAY AND NIGHT.
All day long, and up to almost midnight,
the bargaining and chaffering goes on.
The bigger buyers make an end of pur-
chasing. and are away by shutdown at the
latest. But the lower mass, to whom this
day is a glimpse of fairyland, fingers,
swaying hither and yon. laughing, gossip
ing. calling one to another. until the doors
shut In its face.
Nv tbfplyg nf cleaning f'hriStnag-
night, save a few OF the quieter white
folk. All along the highway there is
constant fusillade. Guns, pistols, fire.
crackers keep up lively racket. BY mid
night or a little later every blacksmith
shop resounds with the boom Of Its anvil,
charged with powder, and touched on
with a string fuse. Every plantation and
almost every farm has its Christmas gun
70 answer the Christmas cock-crow. 1t Is
| only hollow log in which a half-pound
of gunpowder is plugged tight, and ex-
ploded with a greasy Irvine, fired at least
ten yards Oil. But the noise Of 1t is like
a pretty respectable fleld-piece-and noise
Is the thing when 1t comes to Christmas
fun. Here or there an intrusive person
who wants to put on frills touches off a
rocket.
oddly, for all it's Christmasng. the
ndDlt OF COinIHtTCldl nds
small root in the South. That is to say
| the holidays approach does not make II
| necessary for you to go and bankrupt
| yourself buying for other people the
| things they would rather not have In
order to escap being shamed when they
| bring you equally unwelcome gifts. This
| of course, outside the cities, which have
| everywhere a habit of grinding humanity
| TO their own dead level.
| CHRISTMASJTREE. AND "FESTIBUL.'
| Among the darkies the habit of making
| gift for gift has got foothold 1t has no
| attained among the whites. Every church
| OF note, and nearly every school, has 3
| Christmas-tree and festival-and he Of
| she Is indeed miserable who does not ge
| at least one gift from the laden boughs
| Consequently. there are all sorts Of reel
| procity treaties-not understood. as Ia tn
habit of folk higher in social scale. bu
| expressed In good set terms and under
stood TO be of binding force.
| II 1t is a school tree there is free door
that Is to say. any one who chooses to do 81
may come in and ask 10 have his gift
distributed. The churches have an ey
single 10 temporal as well ss spritua
profit. so demand a nickel for entranc
money, and run the "side table, TO max
up the pastors arrears OF salary.
The side table deserves a separate para
graph. The church or the school-hous
is usually big square log structure, witt
tiny windows, door at one end, and
big VICIOUS stove somewhere near tn
other. Ordinarily implanted woodel
benches, sometimes backless. fill the foo
space For the festival, a few are range
primlY about the wall. the others sc
out doors. One corner of the house 1
left benchless, and there two empty bar
rels upbear the rough planks that consti
tute the side table. A white cloth drape
II: there Is a box or bowl for change Sc
so high and far back as TO be beyon
danger of snatching The tables Who'll
surface Is piled with gay candy. bunche
OF raisins. oranges. kisses. tiny swee
cakes. bought Of the confectioner In town
besides all manner of cake pie. and Gus
tard that IL hath entered into the mind o
the church sisters to concoct. Two o
three deacons stand In the little three
cornered space behind. Later, "Brudde
| Paschure" himself will take a hand a
sellng-not so much from Christian CONT
and wish 10 share the deacons' labors a
10 assure himself that the late receipts
which are always the heavier, are no
diverted from their legitimate destina
ton.
THE TREE.
The tree itself Is a young pine or cedar
cut from the woods around, and set up
little in the front of the stove. The stov
Is always red-hot. though the night ma
be mild enough for May. Sometimes tn
festival comes off Christmas Eve. 1t
much likellor. though, to be Saturda