The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-02-16
THE END OF THE FEUD.
By MARTHA NoULLoCH WILLIAMS.
lcopyright, 1855. by American Press Associa-
ton


ger too many--er Morris nigger-Sam,
whar waited on Marse John Ant'ny.
He wus big an black an likely as he
could lib. black as tare, but Marse John
Ant'ny he des as soon yo' hit him as
ter hit Sam. When dam Cross patter
rollers come, de res dee runned erway
fas'. bat Sam he stay dar an stretch
hese'f an say, 'Whut yo' pledjure, gen.
temuns?'
'Nigger hide. dee say. 'Whar' yo'
pass?'
Den Sam he stan tiptoe an say.
sorter gyarpin 'hine he han lex he tired
or dee talk:
"Hit's at dc cote'ouse, suhs. I'ze or
Morris nigger. My marster he done tole
do cote Morris niggers kin come an 90
as dee pleases. Nobody amt gut no
call ter stop dee. He answer dee amt
doin no. harm ner muffin but min'in dee
own business or else dee marster's
"'Shet mp yo' black rascalP say
Harp Cross. i gwine whup yo' case
yo is er Morris Niger Eff yo' marster
open his mouf, I'll gin him some er dc
slime. Yo' oughter hab or hundred
iashes. We ain gut time ter gin yo'
but 80.
"'Please yo'se'fs. gentemuns, Sam
say, case ne amt wanter glib dee no
scuse ter him mo- He gut home bout
de zarn or day, an when Marse John
Ant'ny come ter hear dat tale de wus
er time ON dat plantation, sho'. Fust
off he war he gwine kill all dam pat
ter rollers in dee tracks, but Sam he
hollered an bellered so ober dat at las
his marster batter promus ter let um
keep ON libin. Den he thunk he go ter
law ober hit, but dat ain suitin him.
After while he sorter laugh an say: 'Des
yo' wait, Sam, boy We fix um yit.
''He sho' did fix dat dar Harp Cross.
| Marse John Ant'ny wus metty good ter
keep ne wu'd when he done gin hit He
nebber say nothin ter nobody bat Sam.
In It'll while here come Harp Cross
streakin long de big road whar runned
right outside de Morris big gate. An
dar yo' pappy he stop him, sayin lex
butter 'oon'r melt in he mouf:
"'Mr. Cross, mus AK yo' ter ston
long 'nough ter settle dat I'LL count
er ourn'
"'Whut count is dat?' Harp say. i
nebber knowed / was OWN yo' muffin,
Mr.. Morris.
"'Yo's mistooken,' Marse John
Ant'ny say. 'Yo owes me heap. an
yo' gut ter pay right now.
ovid dat he avaws er bead on Harp.
He could hit do crack f. de doah so fur
off yo' oain't hardly see hit dar. Dem
whar seen him tole me his face wus
white as he shut his eyes des er blazin,
when he say ter Harp:
"'Yo' scoundrel, yo' dared ter hit
my boy Sam-Sam, dat's mo- er gen.
temun in one breff dan ebber YOU be
in er lifetime. wants yo an all yo'
sort ter know stan's fer my black peo-
pie. Whoebber totches dem totches me.
'Cepting fer his color Sam, could er
tn 'ashed dc whole kit an bilin OBJ yo'.
Yo' wouldn' nebber dared ter lay er
finger on him ef yo' badn' knowed be
couldn' hit back. Yo' had yo' time
Now he gut hisn. Yo gut ter histe yo'
shut an take lick fer lick, wild me stan
min by ter see hit well laid ON. Ef yo'
don, ole pistil say de res, an all Harp
Cross done wus ter git often he hawse
an stan dar whar Marse John Ant'ny
tole him. Sam hit i'm three, fo' licks;
den he gut sorry fer dat white man, an
he say:
'Marster, wild yo' commission, sub,
we stop dis. / knows how hit feels. /
rudder let dis yero gentemun loose.
"'Des as you lexis, Marse John
Ant'ny say. I'm glad ter see yo's too
much er man ter lex hittin er feller
whar CANT hit back. Now, Mr.. Cross,
we gibs yo' receipt III fall. De business
is settled, an Yves SO much 'bleeged fer
yo' company we don't think wes ebber
gwine want hit any mo-"
Den Sam he fotcht up Harp's hawse
an hilt de stirrup same lex he done fer
de yother company gentemuns. But
when Harp gut way fun dem two he
lef' do kentry, no did-nebber chen
went home ter tell he folks goodby. IL
FIJI WHILE ole man an Gle CONAN had
done sold out, stock, lock an bar'il, an
gone ter de Eellenoy.
Gus thunk den us wus good an red on
um. But yere come do wah, IN yere come
Harp, too, fghtin 'ginst we all, big man
er heap Dat how came him Cunnel
Cross now. hear um say. too, dat how
come he got dc CONAN he mailed He
fit in dc samo oum'ny wild her brudder,
ON one time somehow he sabe de
brudder's life, an gut mos kilt hese'f
fer doin hit. When he come outen de
hawspittle, she took an took keer on
him fer I'LL while. Den she up an
mated him. apec' she amt knowed
no bettern dat--'taint no quality folks
up dar in dat kentry. An den Harp he
wus right peart, an mon fa'ar ter look
at. Sis May Johnson, she been cookin
fer dec l5 year, an she lows Miss Cross
is des rs much whi' folks as yo' an
Miss Francis dars ter be- tells her
dat CANT be. so-had er been dee neb-
Der would had de inchorunce ter come