The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-01-27
DOING FINE WORK FOR MAINTENANCE OF
 "COLORED OLD FOLKS AND ORPHANS TONE'
By DOLLY DALRYMP..E

squared her wrinlled hands on her babies" that she had nursed-now .grown-ups, but none the less babies" to her-who said as her eyes filled with tenderness:
 'Marse John. dey may say whut dey pleases bout de res uv de fambly; sum uv dem is bettah loolSin dan you sum uv 'em has got mo money, sum uv 'em has married mo times dan you but you is de mos comfortable one uv 'em all and youse got de bes' disposition uv de whole crowd.'
 Could any compliment be sweeter? Could any words be more sincere?
 When the old negrs nanny who nursed you pays that tribute to you, it is safe to say that there is much truth in it. for who in all the wide, wide world ever knew you like your old nanny, whose apron strings you were tied to more years than you'd like to acknowl- edge?
 We walked in an enchanted country, in those halcyon days, when "Br'er Rabbit" and Tar Baby,'' Mister Fox and ''Br'er Bear" were our boon companions, and we never grumbled because we couldn't go to 'the first table because we were happy to wait out in the pantry" with nanny and nibble chicken gizzard or taste the ice cream, and listen to her stories that transported us to lands of wonder and amazement.
 The "Sultaness. in the Arabian Nights, who knew enough stories to beguie the time away for the Sultan, wherever she be in paradise, had better thank her stars she didn't have my nanny for rival for she wouldn't have stood a ghost of a show for first place."
 With her "bandanna' wrapped closely about her head and sitting in a big arm chair, with all the 'chillun' about her. you'd hear her sweet, soft voice croon ing gently:
 An Br'er Rabbit. he came lick-e-ty split ovah de hills gwine nome!
 Joel Chandler Harris has built a last ing monument to the negro mammies' of the south, for who is there who hasn't wandered into fairyland with the "Ifl Boy and Miss Sally and Uncle Remus"?
 And haven't you just listened and read and wept and laughed over all the stories and especially the one about Br'er Rab- bit when he was sorely pursued by one of the 57 varieties" or varmints whose strength was pitted against his rabbit wit he had come nearly to the end of his TOW, and as the old darlSey saw that he was getting into close quarters and couldn't get out he brought the incident to a close, saying:
 Den Brer Rabbit he just clam CT tree an got outer Br'er Bears reach"
 The "Li'l Boy hestated a moment and then said:
 But Uncle Remus. you know a rabbit can't climb a tree?"
 T know" said the ''old man" shaking his head, T know, but in his case he jes hadder clam CT tree.
 Who was it who always wheedled and begged for us when we were told that we couldn't do this and couldn't do that, but our dear old mammies? Who was it that sang us to sleep and stilled our lit tie aching hearts and poured oil upon the troubled waters, but our dear old man. mics?
 They are fast passing away now, these people of the long ago. Once in while you'll see one who is part and parcel of the family regime" and they are just as beloved, just as much a part of prayers and We kissed their wrinkled the household now as they were in the days when they taught us to say our