The Real Hard Sell

r, sing! Sin

loodin'-dey 's a

quirrel,

favorable, one could follow the song, accented by simult

er, sing! S

de water-he's

nigger

ven in safe sections, where many sat in peace beside the rising waters, they would take their pipes from their lips to catch up the dan

n the brow of the outer levee at Carrollton, since

the outer levee, condemned as insecure, so that the white inhabitants of the suburb slept, intelligently safe behind a double barrier, for the condemned bank had stood the stress of so many seasons that much

uple, Hannah and Israel, sitting upon the brow of the levee near the door of their low cab

emerge in a chase from among the woodpiles about the cabin, there was a certain h

e at the knees of the woman, who "made the time pass" with stories. Sometimes these would be folk-tales brought over from Africa, or reminiscences of plantation life, but more often, feelin

amiliarly that when we finally come into a realization of them they hold no possible surprise and so their first charm is lost. Think of one story with such elements as a wonder-woman rising from a man's side while he slept-a talking serpent, persuasive in tem

her devotion the best classic lore of the ages. And sunrise and sunset, star- and moon-land, and their reflection in the great water-mirror, were her

arration, to inspire the speaker and impress a sensitive child,-the dog would stretch himself facing the two, and his intelligent and quizzical expression would sometimes make Mammy laugh in a serious place or change the drift of

me trudging in from the water and sometimes he

was served by the old people in turn, for they never ate until she had finished. Then the little girl was carefully undressed and sung to sleep with one of Mammy's velvet

ings, Mammy called "Blossom's lay-out," communicated by a door with a "lean-to" of weather-stained boards, whose mud chimney and homely front formed a strong contrast to the river entrance of white and gold. This grotesque ar

n old women in soldier coats and boots, topped by third-hand feathered finery, waited at the distributing-station for free rati

he mosquito-bar snugly around her, she went back to her place beside her husband, and, lig

dis evenin', Hannah? Huc

immediately. But after

speculatin'." And, after another pa

yo' swimp-sa

ael's words came thr

oars br

o'se

skift

o'se

lucher

Hannah? You reckon I gwine

in silence for some m

sr

u want,

mind. Hit 's been on my mind more '

s it, H

growin' ole, Isr

, Ha

t long to stay h

oman-can't

"You knows what 's

ou don't need to 'spress yo'se'f.

n yo' min

tirring the bowl of

y we'll drap off an' leave Marse Harol's chile a

at 'sponsibility Gord done laid on we two. Ain't

what 's on my

ssom, and ain't dey all folded away, one a-top de yether, 'g'inst de answer to our prayers, so her daddy'll see her dressed to her station when he comes sudden? Ain't

se Harol's fam'ly's chillen knowed all de fancy high steps an' played scales on de pianner wid bofe hands at once-t, time dey was tall as Blossom is-an' dey made dancin'-school curtsies, too. I taken notice, Blossom is sort o' shy, an' she gittin' so she'll stand off when anybody speaks to her. Dis heah

nna

is it,

'sponsibility? Is

we ain't a

de day she died, to keep his chile, saf

n' Christmus, Isrul. I b'lieve M

he dead? Is he come

uccome he don't come an' look arter his chile? My white folks warn't nuver shirkers-nor deserters. So, when I stays off my knees awhile an' casts away faith in de unseen, se

trufe, Isrul, what we

nna

, Is

a plenty o' preac

, Is

d a preacher preac

Isr

'em preach about. You hearn 'em

w de scripture say 'Hope referred meketh de

r to prayer. Dat 's jes to give comfort to weary souls, when de wait

ight,

' prayin', dey 's one mo' th

an' prays for 'im to come, an' don't trus

played, an' jes fairly scroochinized my ol' eyes out, hopin' to reconnize 'im in de dance. I'm dat big a fool in faith-I sho' is. An' I tries de best I kin to keep my faith warm, so de good Lord 'll

n you does see it. An' when you git along so fur dat you sees wid de neye o' faith, Gord 'll sho' mek yo' faith good.

sr

s it, H

sed to sen' Marse Harol

answer de prayer o

n yo' eyes, whilst I works 'mongst de woodpiles, so close to de yearth-seem like maybe you mought git nigh

don't see nothin' but money in de river-money an' mud; an' dey don't know it's a merror sometimes, full o' stars an' glory. I done read Gord's rainbow promises on de face o

Isrul. Pray like a gordly man, ol' pardner, an' yo' ol' 'oman s

ray-an' we'll watch wid faith. An' ef Gord don't sen' Marse Ha

iver put an end to the conversation.

following Israel with her eyes as she spoke, while he rose slowl

e clank of the chain as it dropped in the bow of the skiff, followed by the rhythmi