The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1903-10-18

thought OF how much material and LABOR
it would require to place those wings
into position, my mind ran back to those
other days, when the Capitol Square was
covered with stone and the rock cutters
mallets and chisels rang from morning
until night. every working day, for years.
Ny first sight of the present Capitol
was when, as / remember 1t, the walls
were about eight or ten feet high above
the ground. Having never seen stone
dressing. it was indeed a sight to me tc
look ON and see how quickly the skilled
worknen changed the rough into the
smooth stone, and how easily the great
hewn stones were lifted into position.
Look any way might there were booths.
underneath which men, with paper caps
OIL their heads, were with mallet AMI
chisel. making the chips and sparks fly.
And that was not all that furnished
interest to the country lad. There was
running from the rock quarry to the
Capitol Square a tram road, on which
ran car propelled by horse, and the
loads of stone, which that horse pulled.
were simply immense; but the Interest
conferred in the fact that that one horse
was doing all the pulling and was expect
ed to move all the stone it would take
to build the State House. l have heard
that he did, though ! do not vouch for
the truth of the matter. j saw colored
man moving a house some time ago, and
q small mule was turning the windlass
that did the pulnng. The negro was brag
ging on the strength of his mule, aid
seemed to think he was performing
wonderful feat; but when / told him that
one horse. tradition said. pulled the State
House about mile, he dropped his head
and looked at me from under his flopped
hat, and said: BOSS, gives 1T up" But
/ heard him muttering to himself as the
mule went around, and the house kent
inching along: Fore God, dat was a
pulling horse, for sho' nIff!" Before |
left, I explained to him that the horse
pulled the stone of which the State House
was built, load at time, and thus re-
heved his mind of the strain, when he
said: BOSS, I'm so glad you 'splanified the
matter, case as you're preacher, l just
nod it wouldn't dun for me to told
emmy body that horse story, as comm
from you"
How many times we, carelessly, it may
be. make and leave unexplained, false int
pl essions. In my young days | used to
attend camp meetings at Old Buckhorn
Church, in Chatham county, near which
lived a very prominent darkey, then
slave, named Ben Partridge. Uncle Ben
was patriarch as well an apostle, and,
during the camp meetings, it was allotted
to him to look after the colored portion
OF the congregation. Under a vast ar
Dor there was pulpit in front of which
was an altar for the whites. and in the
rear one for the colored. Both races
heard the sermon, and when the white
preacher began TO call for penitents in
front, Uncle Ben, in clarion tones, called
for "mourners' in the rear altar; and
the slain of the Lord were always more
numerous in Uncle Ben's altar, than in
the white altar, for the reason that
Uncle Ben's sheep knew his voice and al
ways came when he called Uncle Ben
had a son named Dick. and to him was
allotted the most difficult duties, in the
time of meeting. For instance, if there
was, on the outskirts OF the audience. "a
high headed upstart," as Uncle Ben de-
nominated every young buck who SHE'D
Of and looked insolent, you might hear
the old patriarch's voice saying: Dick,
you see dat fool lookin' niger down dar,
OATS putten on dem airs; go rite out
dar and bring him to de mourner's bench,
il you have TO tie him. And Dick, it
must be said to his credit, always brought
in his niger; when the old man would
say: ''Well done, good and faithful sery-
art: but you must go out and do so again
and what you're gwine to do, do quick
ly." On one occasion a mourner, instead
of coming to the altar had knelt down, or
rather, laid down fiat on his back, out IN
the congregation, and his cries at length
attracted Uncle Ben's attention. AS soon
as he saw the mourner, he called Tor
Dick, and, in an authoritative tone, said
to him: "Dick, dus you see dat mourner
lying out dar; he's wun of de slain OF de
Lord. dat fell among thieves, as it were;
go right out dar. like de good Sa-mary-
ri-tan, and take him on yer shoulder and
fotch him rite up here, and lay his head
on his lockwood root, and get down and
pray fer him, and den you'll know he IS
bin prayed for And Dick brought him.
according to instructions, and it was not
long before Uncle Ben was heard to say:
"Bless de Lord, he's comm thru
l said above We sometimes make AM
leave unexplained impressions that arc
false. We do it thoughtlessly, it may be.
yet harm is often done all the same. Al
the time of which l write Rev. P
church and, consequently, the pastor of
Uncle Ben; and, no sheep ever loved a
shepherd more or followed one nearer
than did Uncle Ben, his pastor, until one
August storm of wind swept over the
Buckhorn hills, nightly tearing down
the forests. A few days after brother
A., the pastor, stopped at Uncle
Ben's cabin to hear his account of the
distinctions of the recent storm, which
was. to say the least of it, very highly
colored. When brother A. ought
to have said, 81 never heard the like OF
that he replied by saying: 81 was in
a storm once that did worse than that
after the wind quit blowing I saw bull
yearling still up in the air at least fiftv
feet high, above where I stood" Instead
of explaining that the yearling was alive
and eating grass on the summit of
Buckhorn hill, fifty feet high, the preach
er left the impression on honest old
Bens mind that the wind took the year
ling up during the storm, and when 1T
oaooad hlouiu0 ha waS still sailing around