Los Angeles herald., 1908-01-05


"A drapery of roses.
The birds were prodigal of song, rejoicing in
the sunny air and freedom perching for an IN
slant here then there, changing from fence to
bush, from bush to treetop as they pleased, care
free and happy-no bars or chains cages or task
masters for them. How sweet thing is free
doml
So doubtless thought the prisoners, they
worked away at their task, cutting weeds on
suburban street under the eye of an armed guard
not under the eye either, for the eye was closed
in slumber, Deep refreshing slumber after some
hours of revelry the night before In the shade
of friendly elm, that grew hard by the roadside,
propped against its trunk he sat, presumably
surveying all before him, especially his charge
The prisoners, two in number, were working
side by side, black, one white.
Looks Gurus, boss, ter see white man work n
out de rode-pris'ne Muffin fer niger.
The white man made answer, but his face
was not forbiddng this the other saw and kept
"Now I amt no jaleberd myself that is regular
ialeberd-nev'r inside jae in all my life till
now; an | amt no theef nuther tho IS IN Ter
stealin'-whut they calls stealin' But it amt.
1t wuz this heyr way: | wuz a-wukin' fer M1sser
Att'erd out de adge er town, tryin ter git money
huff ter go back home, an Misser Atterd wuld n
pay me- So when he kill hogs I jes' tuck huff
hams ter pay myself. An that's whit they call
stealin', up heyr n this onfrenly kontry."
Are you from the South?" asked the white
man.
"Cose TIE from de sout. I wuz bown thar,
ans sorre huff | evr kun way. Tryin' ter git
back thar now hard's ev'r kin. That's how |
git in tr'ubl Like | sed | wuz tryin ter git
my pay out'n Misser Atterd SOS ter have money
huff ter ride back the kyers But | aint
thnkin' bout kyers now, dun quit dat foolshness
Ize gwne ter take my footn my han an walk
back jes soons Ize free Wus'nt you nev'r in de
sout, boss?"
His companion made no reply but kept on at
his work He was young somewhat under thirty
but his beard added to his face several years.
We'll, you orter go thar onct an see it fer
yerseff. But eff you dus you'll new KUN back
hyar no mo- Gre't big feels er cottn, white like
yon drap passl wool on de groun de mite afore;
watr-mln patches widen this town. an sugr
an plenty ornges an perkons. My, my,
boss but it's gran down thar, an de mocknbud
luttr'n up in de arr, singh fit ter kill hssetf
You orter heyr him onct NV moonlite mite settn
de fence a-splitt'n his throte Basil Nv EN-
useter bull they nestes in our frun yard at home.
Ole Mistus nev'r let no body tech 'em-like theys
de onlyest burds that An them sweet later
vans an possm. My, my, er talkn fze
gwine home; gwine eff haster walk-ef I haster
crdlclr'
Where did you lve?"
There was not much interest in the white mans
voice-the South was broad and full of homes.
"Wharr live? Thar amt but one place ter
live in this worle, an that's in Georgey."
Georgia! Did you live in Georgian" There
more interest in the white mans voice.
"Thats what I did, I liv'd in G'orgey-down
close ter Flor'dy. It's this way, boss, we use'ter
be rich fore de war-us BucEnhums-lots er mig
gers, an plantashn big'rn enybodys, moren
mile long, but de war kun an busted evy thing
ter pe'ces ole marse killd in battl; de big home
burnt ter de groun an niggers scatt'rd ev'y
wcher way, squatt'n roun' in de grass like er lot
err turkees. But ole Misstus she git EN- all tgether
and talk pe'ceful like to 'em an set EN- ter work
fer theyse'ves; only lot Nv em buhaeded an go
off, an some Nv de young uns like me KUN up
heyr. But eff they re like me they amt sorre but
onct, an that's all er time.
"Ole Misstus new have but one chile an he
.iol nt1ct bin 1oi6 Rnt m