A STORY OF THE OLD DOMINION.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 8, Issue 29, 9 April 1907, Page 2

A STORY OF THE OLD DOMINION.

BY MFiNRI FTP A JOHNSON

“Hole up yer head, dar ; you’re a root oat of dry ground. Yer got ter tek dis gem man 20' miles in do nex’ four hours," said old Uncle Israel, as he gave his horse’s head a jerk, and then lifted his hat to me in response to the remark from the keeper of the village inn.

"That is right, Uncle Israel ; show this gentleman what a Virginia horse can do. Ho is from Boston, and does not, know much about the country."

I laughingly admitted my ignorance, and sealed myself in the buggy beside the old man. The previous evening I had come to this Virginia town lying among the hills between the Blue Ridge and the Potomac river, and I had engaged Uncle Israel, as ho was familiarly called, to drive me into an adjoining county to see a gentleman on business. Having just left Boston where the winter was still unbroken, the soft spring air of the early morning filled me with delight. The sun had ris'en and Us rays were caught by numberless fleecy clouds, which drifted lazily across the sky of radiant blue. Before us, as we left the village lay a rolling country, its fields covered with the famous blue grass, on which herds of cattle grazed, turning their soft brown eyes to look after ns as we passed them.

Our horse carried us at a good pact!, and my companion entertained me wilh his quaint talk. We had left half the distance behind us when ho gave utterance to a sudden "whoa!" and sprang out of the buggy with a perplexed expression on his face. "What is the matter, now ?" I demanded.

"Dat blame boss done loss his shoe, and his foot gittin tender dis precious minnit," he replied.-

‘‘ls there no shop near?’’- I inquir-

"Dar am one,”' he answered, scratching his head in deep thought, "bouton a mile froo do woods, but dar ain t no road. If you let me drive you up to dat house on do hill —I know the family well, an’ you kin remain dar and I'll onhitch and ride the horse to the shop.” I objected on the score that the family might consider it an intrusion but ho promptly met my arguments, and we had soon turned into the lane loading to the house.

The sound of approaching wheels brought to the door of a cabin in the yard the pleasant face of an old negress.

She hastened forward and greeted Uncle Israel most cordially, and, dropping me a courtesy, invited me to sit on the vine-covered, broad Southern porch, saying that the family were from home, but she would be glad to offer me a glass of milk. I accepted her hospitality and was soon delightfully established in a big, easy chair with the spring sunshine falling all about me. "Now," said I, -"I should like to know your name and something of the family who live hero.”

She smiled, disclosing her faultless teeth, and passing her apron lightly through her lingers, said : “My name is Judy, doc dey mostly calls mo Mammy, dat comes from Miss Ginny given me dat name. I’se certinly sorry,” she added, “dat Miss Ginny, and 5 her husband, Mr. Clayton an’ dor little boy is gone away. I would like you to know dom. I nursed Miss Ginny when she were a baby and now she is married and lives hero in her old borne. She’s got one little boy and I has do kyar of him” “Then you have always lived here” I inquired. She laughed, a little low laugh and seating herself on the steps saying : “Yes, sir, an’ I always spec to live here, least ways as long as Miss Ginny lives. Miss Ginny jes kaint do without her ole Mammy. I’se bin takiu’ hear her so long she jes’ seem like my own chile. Her mar only.hcv free childrens. Do oldest boy is Mars Louis—den cames do twinses. Miss Ginny an’ Mars Welby—he war named after his par dat died when do twinses war babies. Dey used to toiler me roun’ all day, and in do evenin’ when my ole man an' mo sat in do cabin deyed come an’ dime up in my lap, and put doro little arms nrourj' my neck an’ say, ‘Mammy, please tell us a story,’ Den when do bedtime ud come do little boy would say, ‘l’so not ’fraid to go to do house,' but Miss Ginny would say, 'Mammy, you’so got ter take pic.’ Bho would hole me dat tite an’ her mar would say, ‘Judy, you bin tollin' dat chile stories till you scare do life outer her.' Den do little gal would git dat mad and slip outer rny arms and stamp her footsies and say, ‘Nobody shil scold my Mammy.' The old woman laughed at the recollection until the tears came into her oyos. She wiped them away with her apron and looked pleased when I suggested that she should continue her story. ‘By an' by dey growed up ler be a big boy and gal. Dor mar, she set a heap o' store by dem, and she war mighty proud of her boy she called Mars Louis. You’so hoard tell of Colonel Mosby?” sho ■ asked suddenly, and as I nodded assent, continued : “Well, the war were endurin and he war corcumvontin’ aroun’ here. Mars Louis were about 20 an' he mus’ jino Mosby’s Calvary.

“Well, 010 Missus give him do best boss on do place an’ he ride off, savin’, ‘Judy, take koer o' de 010 Missus till T come back.'

“Sometimes after he jine, It were one hot evenin’ in .Inly, Mars Welby were lyin’ down on de porch his hat palled down over his eyes. Deni vines over dar hod emu loose, an’ 1 were fixin’ ’em up. Ole Missus war siltin’ in dal chair you’sc in now, a nit I in" socks fur do soldiers. Colonel Mosby an two of his men dun bin here all day—all at onc’L a mulder soldier had dashed up to de fence an’ say to dem to git away from dar, for de Yankees was a-eomin’. Dey lef in a hurry, but de Yankees ain’t com’ yit. Wo wus jes’ waitin’ peaceful like lookin’ fur ’em. Presently Ole Missus say ;

j c ‘Welby, my son, what you lyin’ ! dar fur will ycr hat over yer eyes? What you thinkin’ bout? Den he riz np and soy ; '' ‘Mar, I’se 10, an’* I gwine ter line Moaby.’ His mar kiver her face

wun ner nans, and say ? ‘Oh, my chile, I can't giv yer up.’ “Den he come an’ kneel down by her and put his aroun’ her nek and talk low to her and arter dat I hear ho gwine to jine the calvary. We wuz mighty busy gittin' him off, in dose days. Ole Missus, she went roun’ wid her head mighty high, lookin’ fur all de world like she wouldn’t shed a tear, but Miss Ginny she tole me as how she herd her mar a cryin’ and prayin’ half de nights. “He had bin gone bouten two weeks when one day a mighty good-lookin’ man ride up to de gate an’ ax fur de ladies. He tied his boss an’ I fetched him here on de porch whar dey was settin’. He looked dat sorrowful when ho seed dora, and standin’ up he say ;

‘ Mrs. Carter I brung- you bad news We was in a little scrimmage yesterday at Fairfax Courthouse an’ yer youngest son wuz wounded.' “Ole Missus look jus’ like death had struck her, an’ she ax whar her boy is, an’ he say ; “ ‘Near Middleburg, I think ; ef you go in de kerridge you kin fetch him home.’ “Den 010 Missus she say; 'Judj- yer Mars Welby is sick I may need you ; you inns’ go 'long an’ help me.' Den Miss Ginny jes’ bog dat dey let her go, too. an’ her mar, she say, she kin go on hossback den, kaso der no room emiff in do kerridge to fetch Mars Welby home. We soon got started, Miss Ginny an’ Mr. Clayton ridin’ close to de kerridge. I jes’ will mention now dat dat are the Mr. Clayton Miss Ginny is married to.” I nodded that I understood, and she continued : ‘‘When wo got to de little town we stopped at a house wha- Mn Clayton say war de place. He offer his arm to Ole Miss. She tuk it, but she walk wid a firm tread, but Miss Ginny she luk so wito and weak I mos ’ kyar her to do room. He were lyin’ on a lounge. His har so bright an curly, wore matted wid blood, an' his face wore as wito as his pillow. When ho herd tie doe open he turned his purty blue eyes dat away—but he no see us. Ills Mar went an’ knelt down by him, an’ she luk his han’ an say : ‘Welby, my baby, doan you know mo ?’

"But.he didn’t seem to see her—ho jus’ kop on talkin’ an’ savin’, ‘Tel Mar and Ginny I ain’t disgrace them Colonel Mosby he tel’ dem so—but I not see dem now. My head akos so I want to lay it on do cool grass under do chosnut tree at home.’

"Don he Mar say : ‘So you shil, my clarlin’!’ And she lay her hau’ on his cheek. He look at her don an’ smile so sweet, an’ say, "Oh, mother, I is safe at home.’ His eyelid jis bumble a little an’ go shot, an’ Mr. Clayton he stoops down an say : "• 'Your boy is safe at home, Mrs. Carter,’ an he lift her up an’ lay her on de bed.

"We luk dat ded boy home and bury him in de yard under do chesmit tree whar he so often laid in do cool grass when he wore tyard runnin’. You kin see de spot right down in’ dat corner dar. Dom were sorreful days wid ns, I tell you. Sometimes wo wus sur-ounded by Mosby, and don Mars Lewis would cum often to see us ; den Mosby would have a* fight an’ his men would fall back by do Blue Ridge, an’ don tother army would be dar.

“One night when we had seen no soldiers for sum time, I herd a knock at de doe. I were jes den makin up do fire in ,do dining room an’ I hed ma a"ms full of wood, so I couldn’t go right off to see who was dar. I spec Miss Ginny that I was gon’ down to de cabin, leastways sho wont to de doe. When sho opened it dar wus a tall man dressed in blue uniform.

“She looked awful scerrod, not knowin’ I had cum to de dinin’-room doe. She kinder stepped back, an’ he cum in an close the doe behind him. Don sho say, speakin’ up right brave: “ ‘What will you have ?’ “ Ts dar an officer of the Federal A’-my here ?’ he say. Den he laugh, an’ push back his cap, and It was her Brer Louis. Miss Ginny were so glad to see him, but she threw, up her hands and says ;

■“ ‘Oh, Brother, you oughten to have done dis.’

“He jes hoi’ her in his arms, an’ seem like he couldn’t speak fur a moment. Den he says : ‘I have to go on a raid to-morrow an’ I felt somehow I mus’ cum homo an’ see you an’ mar first. I may bo killed like Welby was ; then what will become of you ?’

“I stuffed my apron into my mouf to keep from cryin’ an’ jes’ stop back inter de dinin’-room an’ close do doe.

“Dat night, ’bout midnight he tole us all good-bye, an’ went back to do army. A few days arter dat wo hear of de fight an’ dat Mars Louis bin wounded an’ taken prisoner ; an’ a little later the nows begin to cum dat he wore taken to Camp Chase an’ was daid. At first we did not b’leve dat—dat he was .daid. But one night two Yankee soldiers dat got hurted cum by an’ ax v,o stay all night. “Arter supper Miss Ginny an’ her mar sat down on de porch an’ ax dem de nows. 010 missus mek mention dat sho had a son a prisoner at Camp Chase ; an den one of dem tells her he jes’ cum from dar an’ ho most sure her son am daid. I wore standin’ at do winder listenin’, an’ when ho say, dat I look at my chile. She never open her motif, but sho tak her mar in her arms an’ load her in de parlour. “Presently she cum out an’ do’ de doe an’ go froo do hall into de yard. Den I foller her. I foun’ her lyin’ flat on do groun’ wid her face buried in do loaves. I went to her an’ touched her an’ said : ‘Honey, doan’ von cry so.’

"She riz up an’ lean her hod on my bres’ quiet like site did when she were a little gal, an’ she says :

‘Mammy, what I got to live for? Welby and brother Louis are both daid.’ Den I 'tempt to show her how she nuts’ take de work God had lei” for her to do an’ look arter her mar, now de boys wuz gone ; but site only shook her bed and cried. It wa’n’t long arter dal ontil I hear dat Gon’l Lee had surrendered an’ all de soldiers wus .cornin’ home. We wus mighty sorry an’ wo wus mightyglad too. kaso we was so tired of do blood-shcddin’.

“One evenin’—it wus in May-—my ole man wus dig-gin' in do gardyn.

Ole missus wus not wen an- wus lyin’ down. Miss Ginny cum out in de gardyn an’ talk to Reuben a while, an’ den she sa’nter over to de cabin porch whar I wus siltin’ knittin’ an’ sot down by me. She looked mighty purty settin’ dar in her white dress, wid her face restin’ on her han’ an' her eyes lookin’ way off t'ards de Blue Ridge. I says to myself, 'She’s thinkin’ now’’ 'bout her two brothers. I know’d it by de expression of her face, an’ I thinks to myself: 'Dat chile’s gettin’ thinner every day; an’ her mar is failin’ too. I don’t know what’s goin’ to becum of Reuben an’ me !’ She® seem kinder restless like an’ presently says : ‘‘ ‘Mammy, I’se goin’ to walk down de road to de aidge of de woods an’ see if I kin find some wild flowers.’ I say''Go 'long honey ; de walk'll do you good.'

“Purty soon she goes roun’ dat turn in de road, an' I kain’t see her no more.’

“Den Reuben call to me outen of de gardin an’ says, ‘Judy, dar’s too many stragglin’ soldiers ’bout to let dat chile stay off by herself; why didn’t you go 'long too ?’ “I calls back, ‘I will go ylt,’ an,’ I jes' walk 'long after her. When I makes de turn in de road I sec a hoss hitched to de fence an’ jess in do ridge of de woods I see Miss Ginny’s white dress shinin’ froo de trees, an’ close up to her a man, an’ he seem to have her in his arms. I was so sheered I jes’ rin all my might, an' when I got little nearer I see it war Mars Louis, that we had all mourned for daid.

“I stop an' look an’ den he see me He pushed he hat back ofl’n his curl hair an' come meetin’ me, his blue eyes dancin’ in his head, an’ he laughin’ an’ he says :

‘Well, mammy, what make you run so fast, an’ den stop so sudden? I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.’ "I hardly know what I sed den, for I was • most wild wid joy. We all dree jus’ stood dar in de wood and cried. Don Miss Ginny says : "Mammy, you mus’ toll mar, T am 'fraid de joy will make her ill.' "Den all at once I herd a scream, an’ dar in de road stood ole missus, lookin’ at us. Mars Louis jus’ reached her in time to ketch her as she fell, she had only fainted, for dar is an ole say in’ dat 'joy never kills.’

"Mars Louis is married now an’ lives on de hill, ft waned long arter he come homo till Miss Ginny an’ Mr. Clayton was married, "Times is changed an’ I fool like I wus gettin’ ole. Ole missus is daid, an' lyin’ down dar by do side of her boy she loves so well. My ole man, Reuben, is daid, too, an’ I spec soon to jine 'em all i» de happy lan’. Miss Ginny’s little boy dat is name Welby arter his uncle comes down to do cabin an’ dim’ up in my lap an’ asks me to toll him stories jes’ like dem other chi liens used to do. "Sometimes when wo is sottin’ out in de starlight and do moon is shinin’ jes’ like it risen to do so long ago an’ everything roun’ lookin’ so peace-ful-like I forgits all 'bout de war an’ do blood. An’ when de little boy gits tired an’ lays his hod down on my bres’ an’ goes to slop, I feel like, all dis I hev been tollin’ yous is jes’ a dream, an’ I wonders if dis little Welby ain't dat other Welby dat is lyin’ down dar so cold an’ stiff under de chosnut tree. Sense me, sir, I has tired you, I know wid my long story an’ I see Israel cornin’ froo de field wid de boss. If you come back dis way I like to have you stop by an’ see Miss Ginny."