The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1913-10-11
unit" Fannie Nelson
Happiest Then.
She Was a Slave in Tennessee
and Got 'SWhOpped."
LIVES ON LANE STREET NOW
She Is Jolly and Funny and
Pathetic.
And She Has More Friends
Than Most ANY One.

Happiest days were the days before
the war-that's the opinion of Aunt"
Fannie Nelson, 115S Lane street, who
was slave in Tennessee so long ago
that she's forgotten the date, and
doesn't remember how old she is. She
lives in the past-and a nervous wreck
of a house on Lane street, frequented
by all sorts of visitors who coax
''auntie'' with flowers and sweets to
tell what she did when she was lit
tie girl
She hasn't walked for nine years
Just old age, honey" she tells you,
plaintively. But when you sit by her
bed she takes you travelling back over
the years to Tennessee in the 'fifties.
She tells you of the days when she
was a wide-awake pickaninny with six
fuzzy braids of hair-how she played
dolls, with the white children, made
candy in a big kettle out-of-doors, and
danced the soles off her Tapping
slippers.
And you don't know how old you
are, auntie?'' you persist.
Law, no, chile" she responds, AN
don't want to-
If you ask her when she was mar
ried, she'll admit with chuckle that
she's stood up three times. She'll
tell you she has IA children, but as
for grandchildren
Don't ask me-" she'll beseech you,
nobody knows"
The first thing she remembers-it
may have happened nearly 100 years
ago-is the gift of a small china doll
her first present, and an event in
her life. One of her white playmates
-"Mass'r Seabrook" appropriated it,
and she pursued him with longs Here
memory fails her.
Il presume I was whopped," she
hazards.
The mistress who "whopped" her
brought her up-and brought her up
beautifully. Aunt Fannfe's manners
! are equal to Lady Chesterfield's -if
| there was Lady Chesterfield.
For every whopping 1 got, 1 de
served another" she declares-and
knows no malice.
Happiest Befo' De War.
I'VE folks was happiest befo' de
war; she observes, and falls into ret
roSpection.
She may tell you of merry life on
the big plantation-gay times in the
big house, and frolics in the cabins.
Auntie's father was a Cherokee chief
her nanny belonged to a family
of Bankers near Murfreesboro, and
brought her animated pickaninny up
with her white charges. Aunt Fannie
may tell you how they boiled taffy in
kettle swung on sticks over a roar
ing open fire-how they pulled it-ate
it-and were Ill.
She may tell you war time stories
of the clatter of bullets on the roof,
of her flight before foraging parties
of "Yanks," of the southern boys, and
how they were welcomed.
There's a story of how a northern
guard hid in a corn field, which was
ignited by pursuing Confederates, of
the big blaze, the excitement, and the
battle that followed.
She may tell you how the pitiful
southern army was brought back to
Nashville after the war was over-an
army so mutilated, so thin that broth
er did not know brother, father did
not know son, wife did not recognize
husband. Aunt Fannie saw them.
she tells you about it.
Auntie'S mistress died in 81. After
the Emancipation Proclamation Aunt
Fannie worked for another family.
Rich on a Dollar Week.
81 done all the homework. chile"
she explains, ''washin', ironin', nurs-
in'-earned one dollar a week, and
thought I was rich as cream"
It's interesting to visit the wistful
and everything; not much in the old
house that belongs to her son-but
more friends than any other woman
in Topeka. Everyone who passes
either stops a minute or calls a cheer
full greeting.
During your first visit you don't
stay very long-you're afraid you'll
tire her.
Goodbye" she'll smile, as YOU rise,
land God bless you, honey"
You'll lay down the patchwork
quilt, the books, or the flowers she's
been showing you.
Goodbye" you'll respond, quietly.