The Garland globe. [volume] (Garland, Utah) 1906-191?, 1906-04-28
UNCLE BOB'S
SOUL
By LAURA FITZHUGH PRESTON
Copyright. 1905, by Joseph D. Bowies)

black soul?'
rs | gwine"-the old man almost
g~aspe1-"ter be er white soul, aw er
black soul when | dies? Is dat de
quecshun you done aX, leetle Moss?
this name for the child. fo'gibs you,
leetle Moss; but you oughtah had bettah
sense dan ter AK hit in de fus' place.
Why, of co'se | gwine be err white soul!
Is you eber heah oh air black pulson in
de naix wohl sides Ge debil?"
But, Uncle Bob"-doubtfully-"if
you are going to be white how shall |
ever know you up there? Cause. Uncle
Bob"-cajolingly-"you are such a
beautiful black, and | am so used to
you with your lovely white woo-hair,
and all, that | don't see how | car ever
tell you from other common white peo-
pie II you are going to change all that"
But Uncle Bob had misunderstood the
comparison, and considered that the
boy had reference to the social grade he
would eventually occupy above; conse-
Quently the glamour Of the compliment
on his beautiful color faded away In u
fresh burst of Indignation.
what you meanin' by common peo-
ple,' leetle Moss" he grunted, irritably.
Doe you spec, fob er moment, dat |
gwine be po' white trash up dar?"
Then what will you be, Uncle Bob?"
queried the little fellow. feeling himself,
now, very much bewildered by all these
complications Are you going to be a
white gentleman" and the bare idea
brought him very near the verge of tears.
so loath did he feel to part forever from
the Uncle Bob of his lifelong associa-
ton, even II supplanted by the celestial
creation of Uncle Bob's ambitious n
ticipations.
The old man was fairly staggered by
this last question.
Il 'clar' ter gracious!" he said, cover
ing his discontinue with an air of
superiority and reticent foreknowledge,
hit ain no use my tellin' you what l
gwine be when | gifts up dar, chile; leetls
igna'yent boys ain spec ter hab de
knowledge oh ole haids lex mine, and
dey des got ter wait twell dey gifts shet
OBJ dey baby teef TO dey puzzlin' dey
haids on pints what's well on'erstood by
de faithful froo revelation and wraslin'
IN pra'r. Des mex yo' min easy! "Unc'
Bob gwine be fix up some way. so dat
you sho gwine know him up dar, eben
Of he had ter be a cullud white soul twell
he git use ter de change. Good-by.
Gawd bless you twell de naix time"
That night, in his devotions, Uncle
Bob prayed In much fervor and unrest
OF spirit The state OF his mind will best
be revealed by his petitions.
"Marse Jesus" he prayed, In the
child-like faith of being very nearly APP
preached and comprehended by the
Power he addressed. 81 now gwine bring
up a subjec' ter 'scuss wild you LAT bin
AK me terday by de chile | Tub. He say:
'Unc' Bob (he mos cry when he AK hit,
den is you gwine be er white gem'man
up in Heaben?' Dat ar quecshun des
pintally bin ha'ntin' me all day!
de idee of me bein' a white gem'man's
soul up in Heaben neber is for one mo-
ment entah my min. | hopes you will
beliebe dat, an 'scuse de on-politeness
OF de sugges'shun. But den | buhn all
NY DIluStS uOWH DtHlu NE, ny ttlill
de chile dat | ain gwine be no white
trash up dar, an dat | ausso spec sholy
ter hab er white soul! No won'er de po'
chile des err speclatin' ODER dat problem,
what Unc' Bob gwine tuhn into, in de
naix wohl, and done gone home in u
Quandehy. So dat lebes me face ter face
wild err vehy se'yous state oh fairs dat |
gettin' tangle' up In. Tel begin wild, de
chile say he ain gwine know me up dar
wild er white soul! Lawd, Lawd, dat ar
SCUM mon'sous ter ole Unc' Bob! De
idee oh not bein' knowed by the chile
dat | nuss' f'om de time he err leetle
teenty weenty infunt an dat des de pride
of my ole age lex Miss Lucy and Marse
Tom"
II des yeahnin', Marse Jesus" weep
ing unrestrainedly, ter hab er face es
well es err robe wash white by de blood
Of de Lam so dat | could scribe de Lawd
In spotless peo'ty of soul; but, oh! bless
Lawd, | ausso yeahnin' foh de time ter
come when de greet genl meetin' wild all
the family ban gwine tex place, an dey
all gwine say: Why eff heah ain Unc'
Bob! DIES 'zacly lex ole times, 'deah ole
Unc' Bob Lawd, Lawd," in an ecstasy
of emotion, "what er meetin' dat gwine
be! Oh, bless Mahster! look down pom
po' Unc' Bob, an fix up de fairs of his
soul so dat he res se-kueh In de faif dat
all gwine be well wild him in de happy
Ian, an all things possible onto de Crea-
tor OBJ de Heabens an de yearth! Hab
mussy on Unc' Bob, an bring light out
oh darkness an glib him de power to res
saty'ied wild de final session OBJ de AL
mighty"
The bell from the Angelus rang out Its
m to the faithful. and down
among the lily beds the vested throng
stood in shining rows, waiting their in
cense on the scented air.
The dew fell, like tears, from myriads
OF weeping eyes, On tree, grass and fiow-
er, and all the mute, unsheltared things
budding close to the bosom OF the earth.
Above, the sorrowful heart of the night
throbbed with the intensity OF its star
beats. Below, In the old plantation
house whose walls yearned with their
passion Of protectiveness, the tide of
life ebbed low In the pulse of the diving