Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-05-19
no COUNT 'l1lAH


True Story Of Southern Life. !
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"Yassir; youse come two mile OUT
your way. Co'se it's dat no count
'Lijah's doin'. Whaffo you brung de
gemman yere, stidder taken um uE
de ole cotton road? How come you
ain know wey de ole Hallowes place
s, de ve'y place wey you was Dawn!
You was no count huff befo', en- now
you mussa loss de lii bit O sense dc
Lawd done gle you"
NANNY" he answers, bending be-
meath the double weight of scorn and
conscience, de gemman question me
bout de Mores en- de Halloweses, en-
fo'got Z tex noticement O. de forks;
20 de mule, he come home"
Don't scold him, auntie," says the
stranger, delighted with the pictur-
esqueness Of the scene; Il shall be
glad to rest awhile and drink frol.N
that glorious old well Of yours"
Aunt Hepsy is completely Modified.
'Lijah has given the one excuse that
is unanswerable on all occasions, and
request to refresh at her cabin is
always gratifying. Aunt Hepsy is an
aged but still vigorous mulattress, at
tractive in her neat homespun garb
and the superior air one remarks in
the trusted servants of ante-bellum
days. 'Lijah is several shades lighter,
almost Caucasian, in fact, both as TO
feature and complexion; but his
speech, his half-vacant eye, the curl
GUS mixture Of familiarity and defer
ence in his manner, are those of the
true Southern negro rustic
The stranger enjoys with the zest
OF past remembrance the comfort OF
an old hide-bottomed chair, tilted at
an agreeable angle against a great
tree, the scent of the yellow jasmines
that appear to hold up the lettering
cabin. and, above all, a draught Of
water from a clean, white drinking
gourd. Aunt Hepsy's life seems to De
entirely out Of doors. The cooking
arrangements are under o tree; her
patchwork and spinning wheel under
another. her scant bedding is airing
on the fence, and even the coffee-mill
Is nailed on the outside Of the cabin,
under the caves.
You muss 'scuse 'Lijah dis time,
mister. Wen he got he tongue on de
Halloweses en- de Mores, he ain good
TO muffin else tel you change de sub
jick. It was Miss Nellie More dat
marry we-all's Marse Phil. All de
colored folks love dem two, but
'Lijah dess wushup UNI. En- de Lawd
know, dass de on'y goodin um."
Il TEX noticement O one cuyus
ting bout slav'ry-de wife folks dat
bin de bcss t. dey slaves was de ve'y
ones t git poress en- sutfah de moress
after freedom. De bad marsters de
ones t hussle round en- fin hans T.
wuk de crap, freedmen err po' crack.
ers. dunno wat mex it, but it was
dess datawny. Al our boys bin killed
at Shenandoah skusin Marse Phil, en-
Ole Marse pass away in a fit wen he
read de telumgram; so, wen de war
end. Marse Phil came T. ruined
home; hans gone, crap rott'n in de
heP, half de stock destroy in de
Gainesville raid. en- de hepplesses
family you cher see, Nobody t. do
nuff'n but me EN- 'Liiah.
"Marse Phil look at us sorryfu'. en-
say, I ain got no money t. pay YOU, |
Hepsy, CT I reckon de cohn
crib en- de smoke-house be as empty
rs a fiatwoo1S mail bag. You better
go 7 town wild de ress en- put in YOU
claim at de Freedmen bureau. I saw
'Who-me? do want no mo- bu-
reaus. Aim ! got dat fine family bu.
reau wat ole miss gimme after 7
russ ole marse out de typhoid fever?'
In ,Lilah say. Who gwine put up wild
no count Liiah eff you run UNI off?
En- who gwine wait on Miss Nellie en-
'un after dem chilluns?'
"Marse Phil lock lax he dunno