The Advocate and news., 1899-03-29
Aunt Judle.

Aunt Judie.
L. p. Bowen, in the New Voice.
A Confederate captain passed within the
Union lines and was visiting his mother at
night on the home farm in western Mis-
souri,. He had made himself very obnoxious
to the Federal forces, and if captured was
liable to be shot down at once or to be
executed as spy. His presence became
suspected, and in the morning the house
was suddenly surrounded by United States
soldiers. Upstairs a plank was movable,
affOrding cramped hiding place between
the ceiling of the porch and its roof. The
plank replaced, no one would ever suspect
the secret. Into this contracted space the
captain crawled and effectually concealed
himself. Nobody knew except the mother
and Aunt Judie, the cook.
The house was thoroughly searched and
no clew was found. Still the soldiers felt
sure that the captain had come home and
was near. They knew that it would be
vain to threaten the mother or try to secure
information from her. They decided to
move upon Aunt Judie.
They took her apart and questioned her
shrewdly, endeavoring to entrap her to re-
veal his hiding-place, but in vain. They
offered her greenbacks, a gold
watch, freedom-but she never wavered.
Then they assumed different role They
led her out into the yard in apparent an
ger, placed her in chair, and declared that
they would take her life if she did not tell.
Pistols and rifles were put against her head,
tuTbaned in its blue handkerchief and they
loudly threatened her. These intimidations
continued in various forms for an hour.
She was within 20 steps of the concealed
"Mas Jim" and he saw and heard it all.
The captain said to me afterward; 81 never
read anything equal to it. And have been
in hot places on the battlefield, but never
have / seen Aunt Judies peer OF course
1 knew they would not kill her or / would
have come out of there. But she fully ex-
pected to die for me. I knew they would
not hurt her, for they were admiring her
too"
She shuddered all through that hour of
and refused to give one hint.
Honey" she said afterward, 'T was skairt
almost to death. Dey pushed dem devilish
guns right up agin my wool. 1 could feel
de top Of my hade tearin' off and de brains
fyin' clear out yonder to de barn. l was
sayin' my prayers and a-lyin'-all mixed
up. Dem horrid guns might go off any
minute, you see-skairt was no name for
it. But hadn't l carried dat boy in my
arms when babyl Hadn't nussed him
through the measles? Hadn't kissed him
when we thought he was dyin' wild the
scarlet fever? Wouldn't he spread out his
little hands to come to me from his own
And when he got big, did he
ever speak one hard word to Judiep When
he'd come from town, who was it dat al
ways brought me somethin' good from de
storeP No, no, honey-I wasn't goin' to
see Mas Jimmie kilt. No, no; dat boy
loved his Aunt Judie. Niggers are mighty
little account, but dey amt dat sort!
Seemed to me / could feel myself tumblin'
off dat chair, blowed all to pieces--and
dare's no fun in dat!-but I Jest got q
clinch on my old mouf, took de lockjaw,
honey, and trimbled it out. knowed
Mas Jim was right up dare and a-lovin' of
me. When / got through all dat dyin' time
and de soldiers quit, one of m said: Boys,
dare's enough grit in dat ole darkey to
build turnpike No grit about it, honey.
Judie didn't git over her cOwardly shakin'
for month. Dem ole Yanks never onder-
stood niggers nohow!"