The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1916-06-18
The SCRATCH PAD
By THOMAS EWING DABNEY.

=
haven't seen it.
'I saw the Birth of Nation at /
Sid Levy's opera house the other day
and observed how a southern audi
ence took it. Friends who saw it in
Chicago have described its reception
there.
SIN neither place was there any
race or regional antipathy, nor could
there be-, for the message Of this
drama is essentially love.
''The Chicago people approved of
the Union captain in the play who
shot the soldier-not because he was
negro, but because he was a brute
every bit as earnestly as the south
ern people.
Negro problem down South? Ask
the southerners who have had negro
mammies if they know of any prob
lem.
ASK the negroes how they feel
towards the decent whites.
81 remember few years ago."
he continued, visiting our old cot
ton plantation in middle Mississippi.
1t is still in the family, farmed by
the old slaves and sons and daugh-
tiers of slaves.
81 was with, my father-the first
time I had ever been there; and the
first time my father had been back
for many years.
awe drove out in buggy-I never
knew buggy could have so many
creaks and rattles and still live! As
we entered the plantation, an old
nanny in a red bandanna and a
blue skirt came bouncing out of a
cabin, rushed up to the complaining
buggy, and exclaimed, 81 don't know
who you is, but you looks like 5"
giving our family name.
"a little further on we stopped at
a one-room cabin. An old negro man
was puttering around in the garden
back of the shack. His face was in
expressibly black, and his hair a
brilliant white. He looked up, saw
my father, and said, looking twenty
five years younger, why, Marse
Tom, I sho is glad to see yo'. I sho
is, honey. An is dis yo' little boy?'
| (How can l ever face my wife with
dignity again, thought ID Marse
Tom, does yo' member de time when
you an me was a-muddyin' in de
crick 70 fish befo' de war-an' we
foun' dat great big rattlesnake down
by de cottonwood, an you went back
to git yo' gun, at de greet house, an he
got away?'
"Then we went to George Pages
house. George was an old slave,
born the same day my father was
and given to my father for body
slave and companion. Georges
house is near the site of the one
time Great House. He is prosperous
and has a freedom family, but still
keeps green the memory of other
friends. His reception of my father
was touching, and my fathers recep.
ton of him was equally touching.
turned my eyes away.
''Me, they received as if 1 had beer
a sovereign prince. They had never
seen me before, probably had never
heard of me; but I was a member
of the family and I had their aIIegi
ance and love. q
"Such dinner as George and hi!
wife did serve. How his girls dix
jump around, passing things in ;
never ending stream of plentyi
can't remember everything-but Their
was fried chicken-Virginia style
one of those yellow legged chickens
preternaturally fat, that lazy up to tn
steps of hot summers day, singing
low. and pecking sluggishly at moth
ing, and just pleading to be eater
Then there was luscious gravy
and biscuits made after an old tim
recipe-faky biscuits-there wa
: corn pone, and cucumbers and cor
IN the ear; there was home mad
: lasses; and some fish from the sam
, old crick; sweet pickles and jam an
bottle of homemade wine; coffe
7 Of course; a glorious omelette; an
t when we thought it was absoluteI
\ impossible to eat another morse
George brought out from under tn
house "a
t "Well, | didn't weigh 1t, and / didn
measure it, but to my dying day
@ will maintain that such another wa
ermelon was never produced! Ar
sitting on George Pages gallery, v
S ate that melon-ate into the rim
e while George pointed out old Ian,
marks, showed where the road hs
= worn about four feet into the hi
e and how the hill itself had been wasl
e ing down into the valley-felds b
n low; told of boyish boxing match,
with my father; how he had ofte
Z stood blame for my fathers prank
: and how my father had once riskt
: his life to save him.
Race equality? Problem? Neitht