The Brookings register. [volume] (Brookings, Brookings County, S.D.) 1903-1971, 1905-12-28
X2NSs|Ss>n4@SSSSSsk
va In the Long Ago Nw

The holiday times bring to those OF
us whose emorIe go back a half
century or more thoughts of the days
before the Civil War, VIXEN life was
so different from that in the hurrying
world of the present, writes Mrs. Lii
lie DeyereuX Blake in the Philadel-
phia Public Ledger. l was born in
the South. My father, Mr.. DevereuX,
owned a large plantation on the banks
of the Roanoke river, in North Caro-
lima. My earliest remembrances are
Of the kindly faces Of the dusky peo-
pie who were the only inhabitants for
miles around us. AS a little tOddling
child l went with my nurse into the
cotton fields, carrying a small basket
and picking such tufts of the white
fluff as my small arms could reach.
l recall the kindness of the dark
friends and how dearly | loved my at
tendant, Linda, and Gabriel, my IA
theirs personal servant, who so often
carried me in his arms.
The Soft Southern Winter.
After my fathers early death my
mother made her home neal her W
people at the North, but each year We
visited the old plantation and the
Carolina relatives. How sweet was
the soft Southern winter! How beau
tiful the early spring! AS write
seem to see the deep forests of odor-
Gus pine trees, the broad
that were gay with flowers, the tall
stalks of the Roanoke belle" the
pink blossoms of the scented haw-
thorn, the grass spangled with violets
and "eye-brights," and TO hear once
more the wild songs of the birds echo
ing down the wide reaches of the
river.
All the glory of that and that
time have gone forever. Years have
passed and changes have come, but
most vivid of all the r~ecollections OF
those far-off days are the scenes Of
Christmas time.
The celebration began on Christmas
eve when there was a grand ball for
the slaves. 1t took place in a wide
barn, which had been decorated for
the occasion with great branches of
pine and holly. All present wore
their best attire, the simple gowns OF
the women often showing much taste
in their construction. A negro fiddler
led the music, which was reinforced
by the rhythmic clapping kept up by
the men; "Clapping Juba," it was call
ed, and was made by striking the
hands together on the leg or chest.
What a merry scene it was! The gay
crowd swaying and whirling in the
intricate convolutions Of the dance,
with the constant pulsations of the
regular beats and shrill notes of the
fiddle leading the wild chorus. The
white folks" did not stay late, but
the ball was kept up till long after
midnight brought in Christmas morn
ing.
YuIetide on the Plantation.
Of course, this was a holiday, and
all day groups Of our people came to
the "great house." as the planters
residence was called, to wish Massa .
and Missis a merry Christmas. Some
times they brought small gifts of eggs
or flowers or little red birds that they
had tanned. Sometimes they danced
or performed athletic feats. Some
times they only said "Howd'y Massa,"
"Howd'y, Missis," but always with a
look of affection. All! those dusky
friends of long ago! How they dwell
in my memory! How deep and strong
was the affection which existed be-
tween these simple people and those
in whose hands was the great respon-
sibility of their welfare! OF course,
gifts ere distributed lavishly. No n
was forgotten, and at night there
we're gay parties gathered for the
feasts.
Years have passed since then, and
these wards of the Nation" have