Connecticut western news., 1901-12-12
THE RUNAWAYS A Story of Antebellum
 Days. By ANNA LAURA GRAVES.

nttn year that negro has run away. I'll 1 see about this" And, catching up his cane and panama hat, he strode down the avenue toward the negro quarters. | He stopped before the cabin of Aunt Dinah, the wife of the recreant, and she met him by answering his unspo- ken question. "Yes, sah, he done run away agin, sah. When I git up dis mawnin' he done gone. It's pow'ful cu'ous, sah He'll come back. You know, he allus does. Gawd knows I sho' is toah up in my mind about 1t. He knows what kind massa he got, and 'peahs lak when he come back he pow'ful shame O hisself; but he done gone ag'in." As was always the case with him, the colonePs wrath had subsided by the time he had reached Uncle Ephra- inns cabin, and after hearing Aunt Dinah's explanation he said thought fully:
 Well, tell EIx to come and see me when he comes back, and we'll not search for him this time." Then he walked slowly back to the house. At dinner that day the family dis cussed the runaway. He had been born on the plantation and was a great favorite with them all. He was only few days older than the colonel. They had been boys together, and the slave had been devoted to "his white folks." But every October for five years Eph had mysteriously disappear ed, to appear again in about two e1,a Co only explanation to the darkies had beer that he ''jes' had to go." The colonel had maintained a dis erect silence. He remembered the long years of unbroken loyalty and devo- ton of Ephraim, and waited for him to explain his disappearance, but the explanation had never come. This time the colonel had determined to ask for it.
 About two weeks after this last Oc- tober day disheveled old darky walked into Aunt Dinah's cabin. His clothes were torn by brambles and GOV cred with the mud of the swamps. He looked tired, but happy. Uncle Ephra- i'm had returned.
 He said little by way of reply to the upbraidings of Aunt Dinah, who gave him good tongue flashing" for his "ongratitude to ole massa to run off lak common field niggah." He winced at the last appellation, for Uncle Eph was quite an aristocrat in his way, having been coachman in the Randolph family ever since he had ar rived at mans estate. He said noth- ing, however, for he was rather a si- I lent darky.
 When Aunt Dinah had had her say" she gave him the masters mes sage. He stopped smoking, his cob pipe went out. At last he arose, put on his battered hat and, without changing his mud stained garments, | walked slowly up to the "big house." Colonel Randolph solemnly surveyed the weather beaten runaway. | "Well, Eph," he said sternly, "I've never asked you before, but now I want you to tell me why you ran away"
 Ephraim, lingering his hat ard look 1 ing at his muddy shoes, said: "That's jus what Pm gwine to do, Marse Phil. Seem lak I couldn't wait | to fix up none. I jus got to tell you now. You know, Marse Phil' (and Uncle Eph coughed), i've been knowin' one 'nuther a long time. You know my mammy wah yo' black nanny, too. an you know we done play togedder, we did, an we hunted togedder, we did. an you know, Marse Phil. you could outride anybody In dis coun- l try"-
 "That we could," broke in the colo nel. forgetting himself for the moment. runaway negro and remembering only his happy boyhood.
 "Well, Marse Phil, you know in de fall, sah, when de sun shines sort O meller lak an when de muscadines an fox grapes an simmons am ripe an de cbestnuts am droppin', sah, jes' can't stand it nohow. l jes' 'bleeged to run away. 'Peahs lak jus recollect de time, Marse Phil, I do, when you an me used to go possum an coon huntin' an den atterwhile, when I take dc chillens-an'. Lord, sich times as we had! An now dey's all married an gone, sah, but ole Eph, he jes' have to take to de woods once year an kind O circumnayigate 'roun', sah, jes' fcl
 de ole times, sah. Tze pow'ful sorry tc discommode you, Marse Phil, but tol
 dat trifiin' Joe how to tek keer O dc
 bosses, sah, an jes' has to go, Narst
 Phil, jes' has to-"
 The colonel had turned and was look
 ing out of the window. He did no
 speak at once.
 From the distant cabins came tn,
 plaintive echo of lullaby sung by
 black nanny to curly headed picka
 ninny. The gold of evening was melt
 ing into the purple glow of twilight
 and the air was balmy and sweet. T,
 the colonel there came the memory O
 days. long ago, when he had seen ant
 felt all this so keenly, when the youn;
 blood coursed through his veins warm
 ed by the fire of youth and when all na
 ture seemed but to be speaking word
 of welcome, inviting him to come fort
 and revel In its beauties.
 "Well. Eph," he finally said, 'I hay
 one request to make of you. When yo1
 feel like running away again, I wan
 You to tell me, and I'll go with you."
 "You go, Marse Phil, sho' huff? Al
 light sah, I'll tell you, sah."
 The colonel turned and took up hi
 paper. Don't forget" he commanded
 "I shall expect you to tell me-" An
 the interview was ended.
 There were wild rumors afloat anon
 the negroes as to the punishment Uncl
 Eph was to receive for running away
 but Uncle Eph himself maintained dignified silence. He sedately drov the colonel and his wife to church an
 through the country lanes to the house
 where they attended the big dinner
 and teas. The subject was never agai
 mentioned by the two old playmates.