The times., 1898-09-25
s.FoIrxs From Dixie"


reviews of 1t thus far have been favorable.
It is a collection of about a dozen short
stories of negro life, illustrated by E. W.
Kemble The quaint, humorous and pa
thetic elements of the negro character
have furnished themes for SO many South
ern writers of late years that some critics
were inclined to think the subject ex-
hausted. The life Of the cotton field and
the quarters has been described over
and over again by writers whose earliest
and tenderest recollections were mixed
up with the turbaned head and grooming
voice of nanny" or the never-failing
folk lore of Uncle Remus." Ruth Nc
Emery Stuart, Thomas Nelson Page Harry
stilwell Edwards, Grace King. Richard
Malcolm Johnston, Joel Chandler Harris,
George Cable, Lafcadio Hearn, Mark
Twain, F. Hopkinson Smith, Frank r.
Stockton, Matt Grim, and some other
magazine writers not so we'll known, have
dealt in various ways with the character
istics Of the plantation negro, while George
Ade has handled the town negro of the
West in that little volume of sketches
called Pink Marsh" All this literature
proved the subject q good one for story
tellers. 1t remained TO be seen whether
anything more could be gotten out of it.
The difference between the work OF
these writer's and that of Mr.. Dunbar is
so subtle that most people will not stop
10 analyze it, II is the difference be-
tween observation and intuition. Mr.
Dunbar knows his people. His touch is
instinctively accurate. He may not rea-
son that such and such a character will
behave in g certain way under given cir
cumstances; he knows it. The white man
either reasons or guesses about the
thoughts and actions of another race
His reasonings and his guesses are oft
en- clever, but they are not infallible.
There is a subtle, intangible quality in
the genius of every race which only an
individual of that race can thoroughly
understand, and 1t is this quality which
is present In Folks From Dixie" and alb
sent in the work of other delineators of
negro life The expression of this racial
idea might be less skillful than 1t is. but
the idea would still be there
The stories themselves, regarded purely
as literature, are thoroughly interesting.
They range from the humorous TO the
pathetic, and in one or two of them the
relations between the races are touched
lightly. The humor is gently satirical; it
does not move to laughter, but 1t keeps
one smiling. The pathos is very much
like that OF some Of the wild mournful
negro hymns; II is absolutely spontane-
Gus. without straining after effect, with
out artiaciality. And the pathos and
humor are very cunningly mixed on oc-
casion. The dramatic touches come nat
urally in the course of the story, and
there is so little plot in some Of the tales
that one almost wonders at first what
the purpose OF them is. But taere is not
uvht Slxf full lrr
some trait Of negro character or some
dramatic incident
II there is g. fault In the diction # is
the use Of too many long words but the
words are suited to the meaning, and
seem, after q little, as perfectly adapted
to the story as the staccato Gallo idiom
Of a French novel. The way in which the
author uses plantation dialect and An
glo-Saxon words when it happens TO suit
his fancy to do so is quite satisfactory
Some of the dialect expressions are hap
py, as when the story Of "a Family
Feud' is introduced by the remark:
Dey amt muffin to hide bout it nohow, case
al quality families has de same kim O. spectacle
fuses.
The sermon of Rev. Elias Smith at
Bull Skin" is a fairly good example of
the dialect work in the book. The scene
is described as follows:
The preacher waxed more and more eloquent
as he proceeded-an eloquence more Of tone, look
and gesture than of words He played upon the
had steeled themselves against his power, a
skillful musician upon the strings Of his harp.
At one time they boisterously eKultant, at
another they were weeping and moaning, as if
IN the realization Of many sins. The minister
himself lowered his voice TO a soft, rhythmical
moan almost chant, he said:
You 20 long by de road an you see an OF
shabby tree R-standin' in de o'chud. It amt
hrH Il grUr mile mt
nigh all gone. You look at de branches dey's
al rough an crookid. De trees all full OF sticks
an stones an wiah an ole tin cans. Hits all
bruised up an hits had thing TO look at al
together. You lock at de tree an whut do you
say In yo' heat? You say de tree amt no count
tn' by DER fruits shell you know dem. But you
wrong, my friens, you wrong. Dat tree did ba'
good fruit, an by hits fruits was hit knowed.
John tol' Gawge an Gawge toll Sam, an eyah
one dat passed erlong de road had TO have a shy
at dat fruit Dey ben th'owin' at dat tree evan
sence hit began to ba' fruit. an dey's 'bused ii
SO dat hit couldn't grow straight TO hits
life Is dat whut's de mattah wifi You, brothah,
all bent ovsh yo' staff an a-groanin' wifi yo'
burdens? Is dat whut's de mattah VIII you,
brothah, dat yo' steps a-weary an you.
longin' iu' yo' home? Have dey ben th'owin'
stones an cans az you? Have dey ben beatin'
you w!f sticks? Have dey tangled you up in OF
Yiah twsll you couldn' move han ner foot
Have de way ben all trouble? Have de sky be- n
all cloud2 Have de sun refused to shine an de
day ben all da'Eness2 Don't git VERY; be con.
GClel. Mhur de matt2hg AnN, i tell you, YOU
balm good fruit, an de debbil CANT stan it,
By DER fruits shell you know dem.
''You 60 long de road little furder an you
see 4 tree standin' right by de fence. Standin
right straight up In de air, eyah linn straight
out in hits place, all de leaves green an shinin
an lovely. Not a stick ner stone a car
in sight. You look way up in de branches, an
dey hangin' full O. fruit, big an roun' an solid
You look at dis tree an whut now do you say ii
70 heat? You say dis IS a good tree fu by
DER fruits shell you know dem. But you wrong
YOU wrong again, my frien's. De apples on dat
tree are so sowah dat dey'd puckah up yo' mou
Wussn a green pu'simmon, an evahbidy knows
hit by hits fruit Is hit knowed Dey don want
none O. dat fruit, an dey pass hit by an don't
bothah dey haids about it.
Look out, brothah, you goin' erlong thoo di:
worr sailin' on howery beds of ease. Look out
my sistah yous s-walkin' in de sof pafs an a
dressin' fine. Amt nobidy a-troublin you, ain
pobidy a-backbitin' you, nobidy amt a-castin
you name out evil. You all right an mOyin
6noov. But ! want you to stop an famine yo'
se'ves ] want you TO settle whut kin of fruit
you balm whut kin Of light you showin' fo'f tc
de worP. And want you to stop an tu'n er
roun' when you fin dat you hahn bad fruit an
de debbi amt bothahed erbout you ease HI
knows you his'n, anyhow. By der fruits shel
you know dem.
Two little stories of city life are par
ticularly quaint and original. One /:
'Jimsella," a story of a plantation couple
transplated TO New York city, and the
other is Aunt Mandy's Investment" {
history of that rare bird, a negro con
fdence man. The career of this conf
dence man is touched by that inevitable
soft-heartedness which is characteristic,
of the race, and while he can disappear
with the money of the "Afro-Americal
Investment Company" untroubled b!
ro0ecfeutiOrS dnalmS he cannot hetra-