The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1906-04-27
A FAST DISAPPEARING TYPE
Uncle Tom. ,ie Gruff and Grim
Old ''Pappy"
Silent and Saturnine as Aunt Dicey
Was Garrulous and Receptiye-The
Negro Samson Has His Delilah.
Family Broken Up On the Ravages
of War.

The sketches of Aunt Dicey and
Uncle Tom are pictures of contrast, of
light and shadow, much like the news
paper cuts Of a quack medicine Be
fore and After Taking" These two
good people were excellent foils TO one
another, the husband as silent and
saturine as the wife was garrulous
and receptive; is undelnonstrative as
she was impulsive. Certainl he did
not carry his heart on his sleeve for
davis to peck at.
We children never climbed on Pap
py's knees as we sprawled over Nam
the same. "Pappy, gimme a peach"
Strengthening up from his work Of
hoeing beets or cabbage, he would
lower from under his shaggy eyebrows
at the ba%refooted, pinafored urchins
who had crept up to his side in the
big garden, and his grunt would be
ursine hugs broke no bones,
and cracked no ribs. He filled our
Outstretched aprons with the luscious
fruit, and peeled d fine II for the
tot limping along with ground-itch.
Now go long, and quit bordering me-
Uncle Tom was a giant of a fellow
in strength, though less than six feet
an height; loosely built, with stopping
shoulders, but with great reach of
arm, and the chest of d gladiator. My
fathers business was C:at of whole
sale groceries, in the immense brick
store which he built on the corner Of
Hay and WinslOW streets, in Fayette-
vile, opposite the Atlantic COast Line
passenger station. He had a large
trade with all the back country, even
across the mountains into east Tennes-
see and southwest Virginia, carried on
by canvas-topped wagons, drawn by
two, four and six horses. The goods
came by the Cape Fear river from
Wilmington, and were hauled from
the wharves by drays, the counter
parts of which are still used in the
town. When stock was to be put
in store, or a large number of country
wagons were to be loaded for their
homeward journey, Uncle Tom mad
orders to go down to the store. Heavy
weights were t. be handled then:
Swedes iron in great bars, Liverpool
salt in 30 pound sacks, Cuba molasses
and sugar in hOgsheads-the moist
West India sugar. so much liked by
Mr. Winterblossom in SCOTS Romans
Well There were two very strong
negroes regularly employed at the
stOre-George Simmons, who was put
in the guard house by the patrol every
Saturday night, and bailed out every
Monday morning, and Jack Manor,
q huge half-witted fellow, 4 very at
las for carrying burdens; but they
cOuld no more stand up against IN
Gle Tom than could Old Orlick against
Joe Gargery in Dickens Great Ex-
Dectations.' Whenever the strain Of
the work came, h word was passed
along: Let Tom Mott get there. Ii
he ever felt any elatiOn over his phy-
steal superiority he gave no sign OF
it. unless it were in a scornful lndll-
ference to any order not coming from
"NIarSe Henry
Vet this Sampson had his Delilah,
and the Titan who strobe into the ware
house with Il sack OF LlVerpOOl SAT-
under each arm hustled out OF Tie
kitchen without his nat when Aunt
Dicey was on her high horse. we
ALWAYS knew that clouds We're W
on the martial horizon when mamm
addressed her old man as Tom, ana
that the tempest had burst When we
saw him smoking his pipe out at the
~wOOd-pile. Thither he mVarlaDly re-
treated until the storm had spent It.
self. But. as Mrs. Balchrlstie, III
1.-THE Heart of Midlothian" kne" the
point at which the Laird of Dumole-
bikes became dangerous, so TINS mu-
latto knew by experience that there
was a line which she must no cross
with Tom Mott. But his fits OF SELL
assertion were very rare, and Tor the
greater part of the lives OF this sn-
gular pair the gray mare was the
better horse"
NV father once gave q signal proof
of his absolute trust IN the honesty
of Uncle Tom. In the early mites
there was, at least in our sectlon Oh
the state. a widespread belief that a
general rising of the slaves was I'M
minent. One night, the rest OF the
family having gone up stairs 70 the
bedrooms, | was studying my next
DAVIS lessons, and my father was read
ing at a table. Suddenly turning IN
his chair, he directed me to go out,
and see if Ton had gone to bed. Even
if he has" he continued, tell him TO
get and come to me-" remem-
ber we'll every feature of that remark
able interview, though it occurred
forty-eight years ago: the slave stand
ing Just inside the door, his long arms
and knotted hands hanging loosely at
his sides, except when now and then
he carried one hand to his chin III
puzzled pondering fashion. He bore
himself we'll, even with a rude dignl-
ty, in a position which must have oeen
trying-an ignorant negro interpret
ing between his oppressed race and
their oppressors as the world regarded
it. My father was the last man TO