Part 11 (2/2)

”Is he too feeble to walk about?” I asked.

”Well, ma'am, in 'bout er hour, he mought git as fer frum here as yo gyardin gate yander--hoppin' long slow on his stick.”

Becky rose and very perfectly imitated the bowed figure and halting gait of the poor old negro. Throwing down the stick she had used, she resumed her seat and her subject, saying; ”Sis' Lizer done er good part by dat ole man. She has him to feed wid er spoon, fer his han' is dat shakey dat he spills everyt'ing 'fo he gets it ter his mouf. When she goes ter de fiel'

she puts er baskit er co'n by him so he kin muse hisself feedin' de chicken en ducks.

”Ole folks, yo know, eats mighty often,” said Becky, ”en den he mus' be fed thru de night. Ef she don't git up en gin him dat cake or some mush en milk, why she cayn't sleep fer his cryin'--jes' like er chile.”

”You were telling me, Becky, what occurred at church; suppose you go on with that story,” said I.

”Gawd bless yer soul, honey, dat wan't no story. I wish I may die dis minit ef I didn't tell yo de Gawd's trufe. Oh, yas; I had ris en wus er speakin' up fer de 'oman, how long I knowed her en so on, en den I said----” she spoke louder, rising and gesticulating: ”Brethren, you see dat gra.s.s out yander en dat yaller spotted dog er wallerin' roun' on it?

Well den, yo sees it, en yo sees dat steer er standin' er little ways off; now dat ox would be eatin' dat gra.s.s ef he warn't driv away by de dog. Ole Unk' Jake ain't no dog. He ain't dat mean en low down. He done gie Sis'

Lizer er paper signifyin' his cornsent fer her to take 'nother pardner.

”Een I jes' went on--'Bretherin,' says I, 'n.o.body nee'nter talk 'bout no 'dultery neither, fer yo all knows dere want no lawful marryin' nohow in slave times en Reb times. De scan'lous can't be no wus en 'tis. Yo mus'

jes' sider dat Sis' Lizer wants ter marry, now fer de _fust time_, en live like er Christon in her ole days. n.o.body musn't hender her in de doin' of er right t'ing, but let us pray fer de incomin' uv de Sperit.'

”We mus' feel fer one another, sez I, 'en none de res' kin do no better'n Sis' Lizer. De Word says ef yer right arm defend yo, cut it off, en ef yer right eye ain't right, pull it out. 'Bretherin,' says I, 'dey ain't nothin' 'tall gin dese folks bein' jined together in dat ar book dar, nor nowhares else.'

”Brudder Primus 'lowed, he did, dat Sis Coleman had thowed mo' light on do case dan ennybody else, en perceeded ter ax Peter Green ef he wus willin' en able to help Sis' Lizer take keer of ole Unk Jake, en he signified he wus; en den everybody wus satisfied en de ceremony wus said over 'em right den en dar, fo' de preacher tuk his tex' en preached his sarmont.

”But dis won't do me,” said Becky. ”I mus' go long en put on my dinner 'fo' de ole man come 'long en holler fer his vittles. Good-by, Miss Carrie,” said she, rising, ”don't yo forgit yo promised me dat dress yo got on. I wants to put it away 'ginst I die, to be berry'd in. Dat 'min's me dat Aunt Patsey's sholey bad off. She cayn't las' much longer.”

”You've had that woman dying for a week, Becky.”

”No, ma'am, _I_ ain't had her dyin'! It's de Lord! If 'twas _me_ diff'unt people would die fum dem dat _does_ die--I tell yer!”

CHAPTER XVI.

MRS. JULIA WARD HOWE AND THE BLESSED COLORED PEOPLE.

As has been intimated, I became president of the New Orleans W. C. T. U.

not from deep conviction of duty on the temperance question, but because I could not resist the inspirations of Frances Willard's convictions. Once in the work I gave my heart and my conscience to it with such measure of success that in January, 1883, a State convention was called to meet in New Orleans in the hall of the Y. M. C. A. Miss Willard was again present, and was my guest. Rev. W. C. Carter, D. D., pastor of Felicity Street M.

E. Church South, was the knightly brother who stood beside us in this hour when we were without reputation, n.o.bly doing his sworn duty as a soldier of the Cross, to speak the truth and defend the weak. Miss Willard spoke twice in his church. At a table where a number of dignitaries of the church were dining, referring to this event, a friend remarked that Dr.

Carter had said the only time his church was full was on this occasion of Miss Willard's address. ”No,” the doctor replied, ”I did not say that. I said the _first_ time it was full. It was full again--but she filled it!”

There was a peculiar fitness in the time of Miss Willard's early visits to the South. Women who had been fully occupied with the requirements of society and the responsibilities of a dependency of slaves, were now tossed to and fro amidst the exigencies and bewilderments of strange and for the most part painful circ.u.mstances, and were eager that new adjustments should relieve the strained situation, and that they might find out what to do. Frances Willard gave to many of them a holy purpose, directing it into broader fields of spiritual and philanthropic culture than they had ever known. For the local and denominational she subst.i.tuted the vision of humanity. It seemed to me that when Miss Willard and Miss Gordon bravely started out to find a new country they discovered Louisiana, and like Columbus, they set up a religious standard and prayed over it--and organized the W. C. T. U. I was one result of that voyage of discovery. It immersed me in much trouble, care and business--sometimes it seemed as if I had more than my head and hands could hold--unused was I to plans and work and burdens. I prayed to be delivered from too much care unless it might set forward the cause. I was willing ”to spend and be spent,” but sometimes I felt as if I had mistaken my calling. I only knew that I was on the right road, and tried to look to G.o.d to lead me. Doubts might come to-morrow, but to-day I trusted. In ten years I saw the work established in most of the chief towns of the State, and many men and women afield who had learned the doctrine of total abstinence for the individual and the gospel of prohibition for the commonwealth.

During these years I gathered numerous delightful a.s.sociations in my State work and in my annual attendance upon the conventions of the National W. C. T. U. Among the National workers who aided me greatly in my early work was Mrs. Judith Ellen Foster who, with her husband, was for a week my guest, and spoke in crowded churches. Although I did not wholly sympathize with her when later she withdrew from the National W. C. T. U., our friendly personal relations were never broken. Her brilliant abilities as a temperance worker and as a pioneer woman-member of the bar commanded my respect, and I have not ceased to be grateful for the sustaining power of her inspirations and acts. For the first time in my life, at one of her meetings in New Orleans, I sat in a pulpit--where Bishops Newman and Simpson had officiated--and very peculiar were my feelings in such a place.

Besides Mrs. Foster, Mrs. Mary T. Lathrop, Mrs. Clara C. Hoffman and Mrs.

Hannah Whitehall Smith from National ranks did much to create sentiment for our cause in Louisiana. No speaker in America has excelled Mrs.

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