The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1906-10-16
T0W the Steers Carried the News
of Aunt Judy's Death
Uncle Eben's Yoke of Oxen-A Quar-
tct of Queer Characters - How
Death Came to a Good Old Country
NegrO-The Blind Soldier at p polit-
icaI Speaking.
For The Messenger.

miles from this place in a log house
set about midway of a little farm OF
IS acres. lived Uncle Eben CHATS all
| ever heard him called and his wife |
Judy-they had no family. It was a
poor place, with the soil rather thin. |
except along the edge of q small
swamp, where corn and peas grew
pretty well and a patch of newer
ground than the rest of the Is acres,
where Eben raised good watermelOns
and cantelOupeS every year.
SO you see that although Eben was
a landed proprietor, he was only a
very poor negro, but not a pauper by
any means. He went to town to pay
his taxes every year the day after The
shertffs notice came out, which he
had been saving up ahead from his
small earnings. and each installment
of which he tied in a separate knot
Of a huge red bandanna handkerchief
Wren Judy protested against the
6nSeleSs proceeding, and predicted
again and again hat some day he
would lose handkerchief, money and
all, but Eben was "sot in his ways.
and, as for the sheriff he had become
so used to the old mans eccentricity
that he merely gave him good day
when he entered the office. made out
a receipt and pushed it across the desk
while the negro emptied the bandanna
of its wealth.
So Judy and Eben tOiled on day by
day, content with their lot; and, IN
truth, where there was n negro bet
ter eff. there were fifty worse to do
in the world. Their fare was plain and
frugal, but they had never yet gone 10
bed hungry, and then they had no
children's mouths and stomachs 10 fill.
In a small way, too, Eben seemed 10
be born under a lucky star. Somehow,
the hawks never caught his chickens,
though they were very bad in that
neighbOrhOOd; he was able to raise
year, but the cholera never got either
of them.
Uncle Eben had been a powerful
man in his day, but he was now 60
years old, and was suffering from the
raVaSes Of a lOng-standing kidney dis
ease. His hard life and straitened cir
>c~umstances made proper medicine and
medical advice out of the question;
in a word, year by year, the malady
was sapping his strength, and the OLD
man was slowly dying, though he did
Mt know it until the end was very
near. Aunt Judy was a faithful, de-
voted old soul, who did all she could
and would have been even a better
help to her husband, if she had had
the strength. But she was in as bad
health as he was; she had sinking
spells and misery in her chist",
when she would sit down in a chair,
gasp for breath, and hold her hand
to her left side in agony. A physician
saw her once, and gave her a prescTip-
ton, saying that she had a weak
heart, and might go off some day like
Il s~nuffed-out candle.
There was something pathetic about
these two supplemented, unlettered
negroes, with enfeebled steps, going
on, with the rising and going down of
the sun, to meet death, by the path
hat led to the spring, or by the corn
furTOW across the field, or sitting
listening for the sweep of his wings,
when darkness settled about the cabin
and the pine knot fire burned low On
the hearth.
Uncle EHen owned neither horse
nor mule, and the most important
item in the inventory of his personal
property and at the same time the
cross and burden Of his life was a pair
of runty steers-"TObe', of a deep dun
cOlOr without q mark, and "Reub",
50 completely covered by a dirty black
and white that it seemed to slOp over
into his ugly, obstinate face. and even
to drip off the end of his tail.
AS long as they We're out cropping
the tender, s%ucculent grass spring
ing up on the burned over low
o-o,-aJ GG7-oIos' o,I EDo,,hS cnNn,ol r.
get along we'll enough together. But
as soon as they were hitched to the
cart they became as full of fight as
hornets, worse tempered than ill-con-
ditiOned dogs in one leash. They
would butt each other, kick each other
il the side, step on each others toes,
and try to put the most Of the LOAD on
EACH other.
H"Look whar you gwine dar, Reub!
What you mean runnin' dis hear cart
in he ditch, when dere amt muffin in
in de ditch, when dere amt muffin in
Ain YOU got no better raisin' dan dat?
Stop dare. TObe buttin' Reub in de
side when de steer amt bordering you
at ALL Thus would Old Eben rebuke
his rebellious cattle as he plodded on
to town: and, so fOrcible was his ab-
jugation that, for fear or very shame
the steers would trudge on decen'ly
for awhile, but only to begin fighting
anew.
q clare fore Gawd", the old man
would say, as in the shank OF the
evening they came in sight OF tho
log house, on the return from town,
"'you is two born debbils, if de Lord
will forgive me for sayin' so. How
you hev worrit me dis day, he would
go on, hopping his forehead with a
blue spotted cotton handkerchief, mo
tongue can 'spress. A little more and
you'd err spill dis bag er flour in de
ditch, and brok' de molasses jug. You
dom los dem bars er soap, for | doan
see 'em in dis hear cart. New min.
when l git you home I gwine ter
larrup you bofe good" "Tobe" and