Iola Leroy Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (classic literature list txt) đ
- Author: Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Book online «Iola Leroy Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (classic literature list txt) đ». Author Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
âIâse a goin,â said Tom Anderson, âjisâ as soon as dem Linkum soldiers gits in sight.â
âAnâ Iâse a gwine wid you, Tom,â said another. âI specs my ole Marsterâll feel right smart lonesome when Iâse gone, but I donât keer âbout stayinâ for companyâs sake.â
âMy ole Marsterâs roomâs a heap betterân his company,â said Tom Anderson, âanâ Iâse a goner too. Dis yer freedomâs too good to be lefâ behind, wen youâs got a chance to git it. I wonât stop to bid ole Marse goodbye.â
âWhat do you think,â said Robert, turning to Uncle Daniel; âwonât you go with us?â
âNo, chillen, I donât blame you for gwine; but Iâse gwine to stay. Slaveryâs done got all de marrow out ob dese poor ole bones. Ef freedom comes it wonât do me much good; we ole oneâs will die out, but it will set you youngsters all up.â
âBut, Uncle Daniel, youâre not too old to want your freedom?â
âI knows dat. I lubs de bery name of freedom. Iâse been praying and hoping for it dese many years. Anâ ef I warnât bounâ, I would go wid you ter-morrer. I wonât put a straw in your way. You boys go, and my prayers will go wid you. I canât go, itâs no use. Iâse gwine to stay on de ole place till Marse Robert comes back, or is brought back.â
âBut, Uncle Daniel,â said Robert, âwhatâs the use of praying for a thing if, when it comes, you wonât take it? As much as you have been praying and talking about freedom, I thought that when the chance came you would have been one of the first to take it. Now, do tell us why you wonât go with us. Ainât you willing?â
âWhy, Robbie, my whole heart is wid you. But when Marse Robert went to de war, he called me into his room and said to me, âUncle Danâel, Iâse gwine to de war, anâ I want you to look arter my wife anâ chillen, anâ see dat eberything goes right on de placeâ. Anâ I promised him Iâd do it, anâ I musâ be as good as my word. âCept de overseer, dere isnât a white man on de plantation, anâ I hear he has to report ter-morrer or be treated as a deserter. Anâ derâs nobody here to look arter Miss Mary anâ de chillen, but myself, anâ to see dat eberything goes right. I promised Marse Robert I would do it, anâ I musâ be as good as my word.â
âWell, what should you keer?â said Tom Anderson. âWho looked arter you when you war sole from your farder and mudder, anâ neber seed dem any more, and wouldnât know dem today ef you met dem in your dish?â
âWell, dats neither yere nor dere. Marse Robert couldnât help what his father did. He war an orful mean man. But heâs dead now, and gone to see âbout it. But his wife war the nicest, sweetest lady dat eber I did see. She war no more like him dan chalkâs like cheese. She used to visit de cabins, anâ listen to de pore women when de overseer used to cruelize dem so bad, anâ drive dem to work late and early. Anâ she used to senâ dem nice things when they war sick, and hab der cabins whitewashed anâ lookinâ like new pins, anâ look arter dere chillen. Sometimes sheâd try to git ole Marse to take dere part when de oberseer got too mean. But she might as well a sung hymns to a dead horse. All her putty talk war like porin water on a gooseâs back. Heâd jisâ bluff her off, anâ tell her she didnât run dat plantation, and not for her to bring him any nigger news. I never thought ole Marster war good to her. I often ketched her crying, anâ sheâd say she had de headache, but I thought it war de heartache. âFore ole Marster died, she got so thin anâ peaked I war âfraid she war gwine to die; but she seed him out. He war killed by a tree fallinâ on him, anâ ef eber de debil got his own he got him. I seed him in a vision arter he war gone. He war hanginâ up in a pit, sayinâ âOh! oh!â wid no close on. He war allers blusterinâ, cussinâ, and swearinâ at somebody. Marse Robert ainât a bit like him. He takes right arter his mother. Bad as ole Marster war, I think she jisâ lobâd de grounâ he walked on. Well, womenâs mighty curious kind of folks anyhow. I sometimes thinks de wuss you treats dem de better dey likes you.â
âWell,â said Tom, a little impatiently, âwhatâs yer gwine to do? Is yer gwine wid us, ef yer gits a chance?â
âNow, jesâ you hole on till I gits a chance to tell yer why Iâse gwine to stay.â
âWell, Uncle Daniel, letâs hear it,â said Robert.
âI was jesâ gwine to tell yer when Tom put me out. Ole Marster died when Marse Robert war two years ole, and his pore mother when he war four. When he died, Miss Anna used to keep me âbout her jesâ like I war her shadder. I used to nuss Marse Robert jesâ de same as ef I were his own fadder. I used to fix his milk, rock him to sleep, ride him on my back, anâ nothinâ pleased him betterân fer Uncle Danâel to ride him piggyback.â
âWell, Uncle Daniel,â said
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