FOR my own part, I preferred to remain under the trees, and I soon
found that this was the preference of Mingo. The old man had finished
his dinner, and sat at the foot of a gigantic oak, gazing dreamily at
the fleecy clouds that sailed across the sky. His hands were clasped
above his head, and his attitude was one of reflection. The hymn with
which the afternoon services were opened came through the woods with a
distinctness that was not without a remote and curious suggestion of
pathos. As it died away, Mingo raised himself slightly, and said, in a
tone that was intended to be explanatory, if not apologetic--
"Miss F'raishy, ef she ain't one sight, den I ain't never seed none. I
s'pec' it seem sorter funny ter you, boss, but dat w'ite 'oman done had
lots er trouble; she done had bunnunce er trouble--she sholy is! Look
mighty cu'us dat some folks can't git useter yuther folks w'at got
Fergiuny ways, but dat's Miss F'raishy up en down. Dat's her, sho! Ole
Miss en ole Marster dey had Ferginny ways, en Miss F'raishy she
wouldn't 'a staid in a ten-acre fiel' wid urn--dat she wouldn't. Folks
wa't got Ferginny ways, Miss F'raishy she call um big-bugs, en she git
hos_tile_ w'en she year der name call. Hit's de same way wid niggers.
Miss F'raishy she hate de common run er niggers like dey wuz pizen. Yit
I ain't makin' no complaints, kaze she mighty good ter me. I goes en I
suns myse'f in Miss F'raishy back peazzer all day Sundays, w'en dey
ain't no meetin's gwine on, en all endurin' er de week I hangs 'roun'
en ploughs a little yer, en hoes a little dar, en scratches a little
yander, en looks arter ole Miss' gran'chile. But des let 'n'er nigger
so much ez stick der chin 'cross de yard palin's, en, bless yo' soul,
you'll year Miss F'raishy blaze out like de woods done cotch afire."
Mingo paused here to chuckle over the discomfiture and alarm of the
imaginary negro who had had the temerity to stick his supposititious
chin over the fence. Then he went on--
"I dunner whar Miss F'raishy git do notion 'bout dat chile a-faverin'
er de Wornums, kaze she de ve'y spit en image er ole Miss, en ole Miss
wuz a full-blood Bushrod. De Bushrods is de fambly what I cum fum
myse'f, kaze w'en ole Miss marry Marster, my mammy fell ter her, en
w'en I got big 'nuff, dey tuck me in de house fer ter wait on de table
en do er'n's, en dar I bin twel freedom come out. She 'uz mighty
high-strung, ole Miss wuz, yit I sees folks dese days put on mo' a'rs dan
w'at ole Miss ever is. I ain't 'sputin' but w'at she hilt 'er head
high, en I year my mammy say dat all the Bushrods in Ferginny done
zactly dat a way.
"High-strung yer, headstrong yander," continued Mingo, closing one eye,
and gazing at the sun with a confidential air. "Ef it hadn't er bin fer
de high-strungity-head-strongityness er de Bushrod blood, Miss Deely
wouldn't 'a never runn'd off wid Clay Bivins in de roun' worril, dough
he 'uz des one er de nicest w'ite mens w'at you 'mos' ever laid yo'
eyes on. Soon ez she done dat, wud went 'roun' fum de big house dat de
nigger w'at call Miss Deely name on dat plantation would be clap on de
cote-house block, en ole Miss she shot 'erse'f up, she did, en arter
dat mighty few folks got a glimpse un 'er, 'ceppin' hit 'uz some er de
kin, en bless yo' soul, _dey_ hatter look mighty prim w'en dey come
whar she wuz. Ole Marster he ain't say nothin', but he tuck a fresh
grip on de jimmy-john, en it got so dat, go whar you would, dey want no
mo' lonesomer place on de face er de yeth dan dat Wornum plantation, en
hit look like ruination done sot in. En den, on top er dat, yer come de
war, en Clay Bivins he went off en got kilt, en den freedom come out,
en des 'bout dat time Miss Deely she tuck 'n' die.
"I 'clar' ter gracious," exclaimed Mingo, closing his eyes and frowning
heavily, "w'en I looks back over my shoulder at dem times, hit seem
like it mighty funny dat any un us pull thoo. Some did en some didn't,
en dem w'at did, dey look like deyer mighty fergitful. W'en de smash
come, ole Marster he call us niggers up, he did, en 'low dat we 'uz all
free. Some er de boys 'low dat dey wuz a-gwineter see ef dey wuz free
sho 'nuff, en wid dat dey put out fer town, en some say ef dey wuz free
dey wuz free ter stay. Some talk one way en some talk 'n'er. I let you
know I kep' my mouf shot, yit my min' 'uz brimful er trouble.
"Bimeby soon one mornin' I make a break. I wrop up my little han'ful er
duds in a hankcher, en I tie de hankcher on my walkin'-cane, en I put
out arter de army. I walk en I walk, en 'bout nine dat night I come ter
Ingram Ferry. De flat wuz on t'er side er de river, en de man w'at run
it look like he gone off some'rs. I holler en I whoop, en I whoop en I
holler, but ef dey wuz any man 'roun', he wuz hidin' out fum me. Arter
so long I got tired er whoopin' en hollerin', en I went ter de nighest
house en borrer'd a chunk, en built me a fier by de side er de road, en
I set dar en nod twel I git sleepy, en den I pull my blanket 'cross my
head en quile up--en w'en I do dat, hit's good-bye, Mingo!
"Boss," said Mingo, after a little pause, "you don't b'leeve in no
ghos'es en sperrits, does you?"
An apparently irrelevant inquiry, suddenly put, is sometimes confusing,
and I fear I did not succeed in convincing Mingo of my unbelief.
"Some does en some don't," he continued, "but ez fer me, you kin des
put me sorter 'twix' en between. Dey mout be ghos'es en den ag'in dey
moutent. Ole nigger like me ain't got no bizness takin' sides, en dat
w'at make I say w'at I does. I ain't mo'n kivver my head wid dat
blanket en shot my eyes, 'fo' I year somebody a-callin' un me. Fus' hit
soun' way off yander.
"'_Mingo!--oh, Mingo!_' en den hit got nigher--'_Mingo!--oh, Mingo!_'
"I ain't 'spon' ter dat, but I lay dar, I did, en I say ter myse'f--
"'Bless gracious! de man on t'er side done come, but how in de name er
goodness is he know Mingo?'
"I lay dar, en I study en I lissen, en I lissen en I study; en den I
doze off like, en fus' news I know yer come de call--
"'_Mingo!--oh, Mingo!_'
"Hit soun' nigher, yit hit seem like it come fum a mighty fur ways, en
den wiles I wundin' en studyin', yer she come mo' plainer dan befo'--
"'OH, MINGO!'
"I snatch de blanket offn my head, en sot up en lissen, I did, en den I
make answer--
"'Who dat callin' Mingo way out yer?'
"I lissen en I lissen, but nobody ain't callin'. I year de water
sneakin' 'long under de bank, en I year de win' squeezin' en shufflin'
'long thoo de trees, en I year de squinch-owl shiver'n' like he cole,
but I ain't year no callin'. Dis make me feel sorter jubous like, but I
lay down en wrop up my head.
"I ain't bin dar long 'fo' bimeby yer come de call, en it soun' right
at me. Hit rise en it fall, en de wud wuz--
"'_Mingo!--oh, Mingo! Whar my little baby? My little baby, Mingo! Whar
my little, baby?_'
"En den, boss, hit seem like I year sump'n like a 'oman cryin' in de
dark like 'er heart gwineter break. You kin laff ef you mineter, but I
ain't dast ter take dat blanket offn my head, kaze I know my young
mistiss done come back, en mo'n dat, I know sho 'uz stannin" dar right
over me.
"Tooby sho I wuz skeer'd, but I wa'n't so skeer'd dat I dunner w'at she
mean, en I des broke inter de bigges' kinder boo-hoo, en I say, sez I--
"'Make yo' peace, Miss Deely! make yo' peace, honey! kaze I gwine right
back ter dat baby ef de Lord spar' me. I gwine back, Miss Deely! I
gwine back!'
"Bless yo' soul, boss, right den en dar I know'd w'at bin a-pester'n'
un me, kaze des time I make up my min' fer ter come back ter dat baby,
hit look like I see my way mo' cle'r dan w'at it bin befo'. Arter dat I
lay dar, I did, en I lissen en I lissen, but I ain't year no mo'
callin' en no mo' cryin'; en bimeby I tuck de blanket fum off'n my
head, en lo en beholes, de stars done fade out, en day done come, en
dey wa'n't no fuss nowhars. De squinch-owl done hush, en de win' done
gone, en it look like de water done stop sneakin' en crawlin' und' de
bank.
"I riz up, I did, en shuck de stift'nes out'n my bones, en I look 'way
'cross de river ter de top er de hill whar de road lead. I look en I
say, sez I--
"'Maybe you leads ter freedom, but, bless God! I gwine back.'
"Des 'bout dat time I see de fe'ymun come down ter de flat en onloose
de chain, en make ez he wuz comin' 'cross arter me. Wid dat I raise up
my hat en tip 'im a bow, en dat's de las' I seed un 'im.
"I come back, I did," continued Mingo, reflectively, "en yer I is, en
yer I bin; en I ain't come none too soon, en I ain't stay none too
close, n'er, kaze I dunuer w'at mout er happin. Miss F'raishy been
mighty good, too, sho. She ain't useter niggers like some w'ite folks,
en she can't git 'long wid um, but she puts up wid me mighty well. I
tuck holt er de little piece er groun' w'at she had, en by de he'p er
de Lord we bin gittin on better dan lots er folks. It bin nip en tuck,
but ole tuck come out ahead, en it done got so now dat Miss P'raishy
kin put by some er de cotton money fer ter give de little gal a chance
w'en she git bigger. 'Twon't b'ar tellin' how smart dat chile is. She
got Miss Deely peanner, en, little ez she is, she kin pick mos' all de
chunes w'at her mammy useter pick. She sets at de peanner by de hour,
en whar she larnt it I be bless ef _I_ kin tell you--dat I can't!"
The little girl had grown tired of the services in the church, and ran
out just as the old man had put my horse to the buggy. Mingo knew a
shorter road to Rockville than that by which I had come, and taking the
child by the hand, he walked on ahead to show me the way. In a little
while we came to the brow of a hill, and here I bade the old man and
his charge good-bye, and the two stood watching me as I drove away.
Presently a cloud of dust rose between us, and I saw them no more, but
I brought away a very pretty picture in my mind--Mingo with his hat
raised in farewell, the sunshine falling gently upon his grey hairs,
and the little girl clinging to his hand and daintily throwing kisses
after me.