The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1925-07-16
SMILIN' THU
DE Niger WUZ DE FUS' MAN
BY GORDON COOPER
Copyright 1925 by Gordon Cooper


fetid atmosphere was close, but the
congregation didn't seem to mind
the heat. Pickanninies whimpered
in their mothers arms, and outside
was heard the occasional shuttle
or yelp of the hounds who had
followed their masters to ode house
OBJ Gawd."
Doc. Bloom sat enthroned in the
imposing pulpit chair, legs crossed,
and one foot swinging rhythmically
as he viewed with qualification, over
the tops of his half-moon, steel
trimmed, spectacles, the packed house
that greeted him. He had announced
that, "Ah's gwine preach bout dis
ev'lushun whut de papers is printin
so much erbout. An Abs gonna
glib yo' all de wharfo's an wharats
fer ter show yo' whar yo' come
FUN"
There is no one more interested
in the source of his origin than
the Negro, and they had come as
seekers "aft' de light" They sang
with main strength and akward
ness, but with sonorous beauty
that gripped the heart strings. In
the lulls there could be heard the
solemn baying of the hounds out
side, adding an awesome accom-
paniment to the humping feet and
swaying bodies. Those hounds are
peculiarly sensitive to the moods
of their masters and there is no
more eerie sound than their long
drawn-out voice of fellowship when
their masters sing in chorus.
Doc. Bloom arose and advanced
majestically to the pulpit stand.
"Ah's gonna read ter yo' fun de
ff' chapter OBJ Genersus, de six an
sebenteen ve'ses: AN Cain went
out FUN de presence OBJ de Lawd,
an dwelt in de Ian of Mob, on de
cas- OBJ Eden. An Cain knew his
wife; an she conceded an bare
Enoch'."
"Breddren an sistren' Acco'din'
ter de Book, dey warn't no mo-
folks in de worl' but Adam and
Eve and dey chilluns, Cain an Abel.
An eff dat's true, den who wuz dis
oman dat Cain got fer his wife?
Ah'll tell yo Gains wife wuz
niger! OATS who she wuz! An
whut's mo-, Adam warnt de fus'
man whut de Lawd created! Nav
sub! A Niger WUZ DE FUS'
MANI An de niggers wuz alvin
, all de time ober in de Ian oh Nod
vile Adam an Eve wuz alvin
in de Gyarden OBJ Eden.
An dis hyah is de way hit all
come erbout: Wen de Lawd made
de fus' man, he stan i'm up agins'
de fence ter dry. An a puff O.
win come erlong an blowed i'm
down in de dirt, an he got all
black. SO wen de Lawd seen whut
mess ed made, e made ernothe'
man an call i'm Adam"
Doc. paused to mop the perspir-
alton with big bandanna handker-
chief And in the restless silence
that greeted his statement there
was the subdued shuffling of feet
while his hearers watched him with
big-eyed interest. Suddenly there
was commotion in the back of
the church, and Lige Duncan stood
up. Lige was known thru all the
community as a "doubtin' niger.
Look hyah, Parson," he called
eff niger wuz de fus' man whut
de Lawd created, den WHO BUILD
DE FENCE Whit DE LAWD
STAN I'M UP AGINS'?"
Bedlam broke loose in the church.
"Set down, Nigger!" he was told
from all parts of the church. "Ain't
yo' feared de Lawd will strack yo'
daid fer doubtin' OBJ de Word in de
| House OBJ Gawd?"
Doc. silenced the uproar with
booming voice and his hand raised
in benign benediction. When quiet
had been restored he fixed Lige
with steely eyes, and in a solemn
voice said, "Ah ansers yo' out oh
de Holy Book: wy doth de hea-
thons rage an ermagine a vain
thing?'
Hits vanity an vexation OF
speerit fer yo' ter imagine dat
de Lawd amt pow'ful 'nough tel
prepar' fence ter stan dat Mig
ger up agins' ter dry! An dat's
enough fer yo'. Lige Duncan, 70
hell-bent inferdell!"
"Ain't hit de truf," beloved fer.
vent voice. Oats tellin' i'm, Brud.
der!" And chorus of "amens" anC
"hallelujahs" filled the church.
Doc. then took up his discourse
again: AN so Cain maid inter
de niger family an e repenteC
OBJ his sins fer killing Abel an ebel
since dat de niggers is been having
hahd time. But de grace OF Gawt
am s'ficient unter de day dereob
Eff yo' repents oh yo' sins an is
buried wild Chris in baptism, der
yo' is got ez much chance ter gil
ter hebben as de whites man whut
cher lived.
An whut's mo-, de niggers is beer
gittin' bettah an bettah all dc
time. Our fo'fadders in Africa is
got rings in dey noses an rings
in dey years jes' lax bulls. But
we is free an we doan hab ter
hab no rings in our noses an years
An right hyah All wants ter say
dat wen de wimmen tries ter be
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