An Unoficial Patriot

s. For some time past, he had been strengthening himself in the belief that in the long run he would have to flee from the problem that so

or it had become pretty generally known and talked about, that the Rev. Griffith Davenport had definitely determined to leave his old home and take his sons to be educated "where the trend of thought is toward freedom" as he had expressed it, and as his neighbors were fond of qu

of that which has given color and tone and substance to one's daily life, and at its meridian, to begin anew the weaving of another fabric from unaccustomed threads on a strange and unknown loom, to readjust one's self to a different civilization-all this requires a heroism, a fidelity to conscience and, withal, a confidence in one's own judgment and beliefs that surpass the norma

they had. To take all into his employ in the new home would, of course, be impossible. He would no longer have the estate of an esquire. At first, at least, he must live in a small town. There would be no land to till and no income to so support them. The house would no longer be the roomy mansion of a planter.

what he had grown to look upon as his duty to himself and to them. It was this which had burdened and weighed upon him all these last months, until at last he had determined to meet it in the only way that seamed to settle it once and for all. He would go. He would free all of them and take them with him into the state of his adoption. He would then give hired employment to those he needed in his household and the others would have to shift for themselves. This he prepared to do. Some of them would not want to go into a homeless and strange new land. This he also knew. Pete was, as the

these things-of the hardships to both bl

n they had talked of the proposed

be put on the chain-gang for petty thefts of food before you get fairly settled out west. Lord, Lord, man, you don't know what you are doing! I wish the old Major was here to put a stop to it. You're laying up suffering for yourself, you're laying up sorrow and crime for them, you are robbing your children of their birthright, and of what their grandfathers have done for them, you are making trouble among other people's niggers here who hear of it, and think it would be a fine thing to be a free nigger in Washington or Indiana-and what good is it all going to do? Just answer me that? It would take a microscope to see any good that can come out of it. It's easy enough to see the harm. Look

olishness, anyhow? Your Bible teaches the right of slavery plain enough, in all conscience, and even if it didn't, slavery is here and we can't help ourselves; and what's more we can't help the niggers by turning some of

as a matter of conscience with him. His wife's father had berated him soundly, and her sisters plainly stated that, in their opinion, "poor Brother Grif was insane." They pitied their sister Kathe

Katherine sent LeRoy, her second son, to

ou-every single one-to come to the big house right after supper! Every single one! He's got something for you. Something he is

er dress?" inquired Lippy Jane, whereupon there arose a g

r gib you a lickin' along 'er dat platter you done bus' widout tellin' Mis' Kate!" put in Sallie, whose secure place in the affections of the mistress rendered her a severe critic of manners and morals in the "quarters." "Come

ss, and the old woman was nodding and slapping at the side of her head and humoring the

fum heah! I lay dat I mash you f

e of the twins undertook to supplement the proceeding on the other ear with a blade of "fox tail," but found himself sprawling in front of the cabin door. "You trillin' little nigger! Don' you try none'er yoah foolin' wid me! I lay I break yoah fool n

th at the young master. "Lawsey me, honey, was dat yoh all dis long cum short? Was dat yo' teasin' yoah po'

e Roy the keenest delight. He ran for the big h

n the quartets as to what M

s' lade C

knowed wat I

I wisht hit was

. Jerry had his banjo. Mammy, Sallie's old mother, carrieed in her arms the white ba

gy back, mammy,"

dar now! Don' yoh let dat chile fall! Dar yoh is, honey! Dar yo

es, away down

aroah, t' let

sudden fire in a field of ripened grain. Every voice, old and young, fell into harmon

to the clear twilight and saw one star peer out. She did not know why, but in some mysterious way it seemed to comfort her. She

s, father?" asked Beverly, takin

es

hid in the corners of eyes and mouth were obliterated. Then was a settled look of anxiety. He seemed older. Beverly was

straight before him into s

not stay here free, even if they want to. I suppose I am breaking the law to tell them what I shall to-night, but I can't take them away from their old home and friends and not tell them it is for good and all-that they may not co

you think God was pretty hard on them when He-when He mad

the window, "how do you suppose

lines of mirth came back to his face. "I'm glad Jerry brought his banjo. They will be in a humor for some of the rollicking songs afterward. I think they would do me good too. And you, you, little woman, you will need it too. You have been brave-you have been my tower of great st

about his neck and sobbed aloud. "God help us to bear it, Gr

d her hai

?" It was Jerry's voice. "Good-ebnin', Mis' Kath'rine I I hope yoh

heard the little groan that escaped her husband. She unders

Mos' Grif is done with you all, sing some more-sing that one he likes so well-the one about 'Fun in de Cabin.'" "To be sho', Mis' Kath'rine, to be sho

oing away from here and that you are going, too; but-" He found the task harder than he had expected. His voice trembled and he was glad that Katherine put her hand on his arm. He shifted his position and began again. "You have all heard of freedom." He was looking at them, and the faces were so blandly, blankly vacant of that which he was groping for-they were so evidently expecting a gift of to

to be mistaken. Only papers! No tobacco! No calico! Nothing to eat! The silence grew uncomfortable. They were waiting for something for w

the spirit of occupation urged her to some trifling task. Griffith was reading the paper and explaining as he went. The negroes looked from the master to Judy and back again until he was done. She walked lamely to

ger out ob ole Judy! What I fotch yoh up foh? Didn't I nus yoh fum de time yoh was a teenchy little baby, an' wasn't ole Mis' and yoah paw sas'fied wid me? What I done t' yoh now? What fo' is yoh g

d to what he had fondly hoped-that Griffith stood amazed. Katherine motioned to mammy

Mis' Kate, do Mos' Grif mean dat yo' alls is gwine ter leabe us? Do he mean dat we

nd the little soft, white cheek lay

my don't eben tetch no ole mannermossent papers! Tar hit up yo'se'f, Mis' Kate, kase dis heah nigger ain't eben gwine

up the stairs,

h bawn, honey, dat's a fack! I wisht yoh send fo' yoh paw. I does dat!" and she

ding the papers in their hands, "cut a pigeon-wing" in the moonlight. One or two looked at theirs in stupid, silent wonder. Jerry and his wife gazed at the twins, and, in a half-dazed, half-shamefaced way,

as evident that one and all expected to live alo

as he took his, "but I'd a heap site a-rud-der had

trying to explain again and again. "You look so white, and I am very tired. Give it up fo

o sing, but the merry song she had named had no echo in the hearts about him. All understood that they had failed to respond to something that the mas

am a deepenin'

am a deep'nin

hear an echo f

e days ob wh

days! Ole

dat sorrow

d mos'er's chill

as done a-hoe

py days! Dose h

n no mo', no-o-o

a-sleepin' 'ne

lossoms' faili

sit an' doze be

en I was hoei

appy,

mo' dis side de

no mo' dis side

growed so big d

an' cannot wok

appy,