The Roswell daily record. [volume] (Roswell, N.M.) 1903-current, 1906-06-02
PASSING

Darky of the South.
(By Floy Pascal Cowan, in Bob Tay-
lor's Magazine.)
With true appreciation of his pic
tu~resqueness, his simplicity and his
lovableness, the South has portrayed
the old negro in her literature and
her art-letting the quaint voice sing
the folk-songs SO rich in melody and
beauty, or tell the wondrous stories
that superstition and fancy nave wo-
ven into fabrics of delightful humor
or unconscious pathos. But with all
her efforts toward a truthful portray |
al, the old negroes are passing away
but little understood save by those
who ave grown up beside them. and
to whom their kindly old faces and
their little log cabins seem mingled
with the most cherished nor of
childhood.
They are indeed unique-these old
darkies. Born and reared in slavery,
yet loving their masters with a love
that has had few equals, and serving
them in their defeat with a loyalty
that was sublime; ignorant of all
that the world calls knowledge, yet
possessing in a marked degree the
~gentleness, the courtesy, the high
i sense of honor, that the world calls
gentlemanliness; reveling in super
stition and the creations of an exu-
berant Imagination, simple and child
like in their faith, gifted with a rare
sense of humor and surrounded by a
pathos most touching-they are drift
ing away into the gloom, leaving
none to follow them as they had
none to precede.
l have in mind a little scene ON a
big plantation before the war had
come tt change Southern life with
all it's surroundings and relations.
The masters little boy has fallen ill
of a dread disease, and lies pale and
unconscious, wasting away as the
days pass. BY his side, patient and
untiring, sits his old black nanny,
with her face full of tenderness that
deepens and saddens as hope dies in
her heart. They can't make her
leave him.
You must rest, nanny, you
must" says the master. But the old
gray head shakes slowly and silent
ly, for the tears stand ready to fall.
With all the love and care the lit
tie life drifts away. AS they gather
there by the bedside nanny takes
the boys mothe in her arms-she
had been her nanny, too long ago
and comforts her while the tears
4.a. 1@-,- I1kI +haf, faanc
Nanny knows how yer hearts
achin', chile. Nanny knows, My
POI III boy-my po' boy" And the
old voice breaks into sobs.
That was not bondage.
This was but typical of the rela-
ton between the old darkies and
their masters. In most cases it was
a relation of mutual h~elpfulness, of
sympathy and of perfect understand
ing. The old negro loved his "waite
folks" He strove to be like them,
and in his quick imitativeness adop-
ted much of their refinement, their
courtliness of manner, their true
gentlemanliness and wOmanliness.
They were his ideals He did not
ndt0 III ~
his impressionable nature yielded
readily to the influences about him.
He became a gentleman-this old
black darby, in his jeans pants and
the cast-off coat of his master.
Very few of the old darkies are
left now, only here and there a mann
my or uncle, feeble and bowed with
Years. And l love them. I never loo
into one OF their kindly faces with
the white hair and patient eyes, but
III catch a Whit of fragrance from the
Irose garden of the past, and follow
fancy back i've the years to the
scenes of long ago. 1 see the cabin
NESTING amid the shade trees, l hear
the lullaby OF a soft, rich voice and
see the dusky face of nanny BEND
ing over cole Mistis' iii chile" l
watch the shadows of evening falling
upon the DID ~plantation's happy life.
and hear the negro melodies filling
1.-THE air with song.
Across the sunht times of peace
I'll pass, and into the gloom of the
strife and fall. About the ~desolated
'tnomes I see the loyal DID negroes
faithful to the bitter end. comforting
the broken4hearted mistress, crying
softly over ssole Marster'' come home
to lii
And then, back through the mist
II - r,o1~ r-.sr ,r&. 4ba ~