The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1903-01-15


and your master and l will have to
go to the almshouse"
Eyes. little fnlstiss; spec yo' will"
Then what will become of you
George?"
Go dar too'
DO you think they would take in a
nigger2 You are more likely to get on
the chain gang"
Tie, he, he little mistissl"
What are you giggling about2"
"Dey amt no chain gang. We goes
Oh de fahm."
You have been thereY
Yes; got sent dar bout a yeah
ago"
George, have you been a crlminalY"
His mistress looked al him with shrink
Ing disgust
spec | has" he returned glibly. ~
been mos eberyt'ing-crap shoote,
buck dancer an de res, an crimneL"
he added, with touch of pride.
Mrs. Gusts was paying no heed to
the negro now. She looked dreamily
out through the window at the mellow
sunlight of spring. A longing came
over her for her old home She had en-
dured the long and cruel winter with
a stoical patience, but the reluctant
spring made the sap of yearning rise IN
her veins. Suddenly she buried her
face in her handkerchief, and like
faithful dog George began to whine:
Oar little mistiss; jes' yo wait till
de udder side de cloud tiummux over,
an yoll see nough silver to mex a
braid pan"
"Oh, go away, you worthless niggerm
Mrs. Gusts exclaimed, putting down
her handkerchief, and he Jumped ex-
travagantly just for the delight of hear
ing her sweet old laugh, like the ring
ing of pure thin silver.
But, George" Mrs. GUSTS resumed.
with renewed dignity, sit is true that
your master and | are seriously think
ing of seeking public assistance" Her
delicate cheek flushed at the admission;
but, seeing his look of childish horror,
she proceeded firmly:
As simple as our living expenses are.
we cannot longer meet them, and we
must ask for help"
She threw up her little figure and
proudly left the room, but she stumbled
on the threshold, and the negro, with
intuitive devotion, knew that her eyes
were blinded with tears.
He stared with a dropped jaw at the
open door through which she had gone.
Then. with a volatile grin, he jumped
to his feet and, performing skillful
clog dance, seized his disreputable hat
and bolted from the house.
About year before this Mr.. GUSTS
and his wife had drifted to the great
city of New York. They came from
Georgia, leaving their home desoIate in
order to be near their daughter, who
had married clever young artist. 1t
did not take the parents long to discov-
er that their son-in-law had difficulty in
supporting his little family, so they,
protesting grandly that they had an
ample income, moved to a cheap little
fiat on the east side and In the fright
full closeness Of a few narrow rooms
ture to their pride.
One day George Harries, one of the
most unregenerate negroes in all New
York, sidled up on their front steps and
pulled the bell. negro is not natu-
rally tramp, but he was idle and
thought he could bully something from
these forlorn old people.
Mrs. Gusts opened the door and look
ed her wrath at his presumption.
Does yo' hab any wuk fo' a po' cul-
lud MANI he drawled insolently.
No; | don't want any niggers to
work for me!' she blazed out Get Off
my front steps" She was preparing
to slam the front door when he jerked
off his filthy hat and burst out:
'Fo' de Lawd. | didn't know yo'
wuz a south'n lady; deed | didn't, lit
tie mistiss Kin yo give a POI niggah
a bite O somethin' to eat, an I'll wuk
my fingahs to de bone; deed will"
And that was the beginning of
strange household - George Harries.
crap shooter, low comedian and natu-
raj singer and dancer, and these poor.
fine old southern people. And he was
as faithful as though he was their
as autocratic as though he
was theirs by right of purchase
SO on this sunny afternoon in spring
he shuffied along the street dipping in
to old haunts that had not known him
for year. When he reached one of
his 1nrn1nr st a nd no oh al
about for a policeman and. not seeing
one began with great yigor and skill
what is known to the initiated as
buck dance" BY the time he had
danced for five minutes the crowd was
so dense about the performer that 1t
took tall man to peep over the heads.
George paused in his dancing. took
off his hat and, singing In a musical
voice, coon, coon. COON went around
This was all very well. but
A policeman sauntered up. Finding the
attraction WAS a live negro and not a
dead horse, he virtuously redistributed
the coins to the amused crowd. and
George took a free ride 10 the police
station.
BY the time he was hustled before
the desk his most reckless look had
settled over his hardened face. The
who WAS looking bored,
reused slightly when the officer ex-
planned that the negro was INDUCING
in a disorderly dance.
"Why were you dancing?" he asked,
with a yawn.
Cause ! wuz," was the sulky re.