Part 12 (1/2)
”Do she mean us?” came in a hoa.r.s.e whisper from Willie, the yard boy, who was trying to get religion but who experienced great difficulties because of certain regulations in the way of not eating and not laughing.
”Yes, I mean you,” cried the orator. ”Since I am the person who was climbing out of the window last night when you were coming from church, and since you will not believe it was not a ghost unless you see me do it, I will take the liberty to invite all of you up to the big house to see the show. It will be a free show, a circus in fact, and there may be a few other attractions, too. Will you come?”
”Sho' we'll come!” came in a chorus.
”How 'bout big meetin'?” asked one of the housemaids doubtfully.
”Pshaw! This kin' er circus ain't no harm,” declared one of the field hands. ”Didn't de young miss say it war a free circus?”
”Sho' it's free an' ain't we free, an' who gonter gainsay us?” and the other housemaid tossed her bushy head saucily.
”Yes, an' free and free make six an' six days shall we labor an' do all the wuck, also the play, fur the sebenth is the sabbath of the Lawd my Gawd!” cried a voice from behind the cabin, and then there came into view the strangest figure I have ever beheld. It was a tall gaunt old colored man with a straggly grey beard. He was dressed in wide corduroy trousers and top boots; instead of a coat he wore a green cloth basque with a coa.r.s.e lace fichu and tied around his waist was a long gingham ap.r.o.n. His hat was a wide brimmed black straw trimmed in purple ribbons with a red, red rose hanging coyly down over one ear. He was smoking a corn-cob pipe. In his hand he carried a covered basket.
”Lady John!” exclaimed Harvie. ”I am very glad to see you.”
”Well, now ain't you growed!” said the crazy old man in a voice as soft and feminine as one could hear in the whole south; but at that moment one of the little pickaninnies tried to peep in his basket, and with a masculine roar, he laid about him vigorously with his stick, and with a deep ba.s.s voice gave the little fellow a tongue las.h.i.+ng that drove him back into Aunt Milly's cabin.
It seems that the old man had lost his reason many years before and was now obsessed with the desire to be considered a woman. He lived alone in a cabin some miles from Price's Landing, growing a little tobacco, enough corn for his own meal, a little garden truck and a few fruit trees. He had some chickens and when he could save enough eggs he would bring them over for Miss Maria Price to buy. The news of the ghost seen at Maxton had traveled to his cabin in that wonderful way that news in the country does travel, and he had come over to add his quota of superst.i.tion to the general store.
Harvie introduced the old man to the members of the house-party. He caught hold of his ap.r.o.n as though it had been a silken gown and made a curtsey to each one.
”Lady John, we are just asking all of these friends of ours to come up to the great house to a kind of circus. They won't believe that it was not a ghost they saw last night clinging to the ivy on the east wall and we are going to prove it to them. We shall be very glad to see you, too, if you want to come.”
”Thank you kindly, young marster, thank you kindly! I was on my way up there whin the crowd concoursing here distracted my intention. I'll be pleased to come, pleased indeed.” He spoke in a peculiarly mincing way in a high voice.
”I thought you was too pious like to go to the circus, Lady John,”
giggled the frivolous housemaid.
”Well, you thought like young n.i.g.g.e.rs think--buckeyes is biscuit!” he declared in his natural ba.s.s. ”The Bible 'stinctly states that there was circuses in them days, an' I ain't never heard er no calamities a-befallin' them what was minded to intend 'em.”
”Is that so?” asked Dee. ”I can't remember where it said so, but then I do not know the Bible as I should.”
”Child! Look in the hunnerd chapter er Zekelums an' there you'll fin' at the forty-'leventh verse that Gawd said to Noah: 'Go ye to the circus tents of the Fillystimes an' get all the wile animiles that there ye fin' an' have a p'rade 'til ye gits to the ark of the government.' Now if'n the Lord Gawd warn't a-tellin' Noah to git them animiles together for a show, what was it for? What was it for, I say?”
There was no answer to this pointed remark, so he continued:
”An' Brother Dan-i-el! Brother Dan-i-el, I say! What was he a-doin' in a cage of man-eatin' lions for if he warn't in a circus? Answer me that!
And Brother 'Lige! Who ever hearn tell of a gold chariot out of a circus p'rade? A chariot of fire! I tell you they was monstous shows in them days. If them Bible charack'-ters warn't too good to ack in a circus, I reckon this po' ole n.i.g.g.e.r ain't a-goin' to set up himanher self as bein' above lookin' on.”
”Maybe you will act in our circus then,” suggested one of the boys.
”No, sir! No, sir! I an' Brother 'Lish will be contentment jes' to look on. Brother 'Lish, he didn't make no move to jine the p'rade whin Brother 'Lige wint by in his gran' chariot. He was glad to stan' aside and let Brother 'Lige git all the glory. He caught the velvet cloak with all the gran' 'broidry and was glad to get it. I bet n.o.body shouted louder than him whin Brother 'Lige stood up 'thout no cloak in his pink tights. I b'lieve that Brother 'Lish was glad to get that cloak an' it come in mighty handy, 'cause they do say that whin he was a-sittin' in Brother 'Lige's cabin that very night, the mantel fell on him. No, sir, it never hurt him at all, but I reckon they couldn't have much fire 'til they got it put back. But he had the cloak to wrop up in.”
This delightfully original interpretation of the scriptures fascinated all of us. I could see Mary was listening very attentively to Lady John.
He would be another stunt for the clever girl. Mary was a great impersonator and could mimic anything or anybody.
”Are you going to have the circus after dinner or before?” asked one of the party.