Part 13 (1/2)

”Oh, yes,” said Mr. Morton, as he heard this message. ”I was telling you that at the end of the cotton-picking season the darkies have a great time among themselves, playing and singing songs. They make hoe cakes and if they can get a 'possum they roast that with sweet potatoes. Let's go down for a little while.”

”Can we come?” cried all four children, almost in one voice.

”Yes, let them come!” said Mr. Morton.

It was not really very late, though it was dark. But once Bunny and Sue, with Sam and Grace were outside, they saw, down in the direction of the darkies' cabins, some flickering lights which told of bonfires and torches.

”It looks just like a picture,” said Mrs. Brown, as she walked along with her husband.

They could hear the strumming of banjos, the blowing of mouth organs, and the singing of the colored folk, whose full, soft voices made most pleasant tunes.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BUNNY AND SUE WERE DELIGHTED WITH THE ”JUBILEE.”

_Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Sunny South._ _Page 101_]

Bunny and Sue were delighted with the ”jubilee,” as it was called. Of course Sam and Grace had seen it before, but they always enjoyed it.

There was dancing, too, and some of the capers cut by the men and boys were very funny.

”What's hoe cake?” asked Bunny, remembering that Mr. Morton had spoken of this.

”In the old days, before the war, it was a cornmeal cake baked on the clean blade of a field hoe,” was the answer. ”But now they are generally made in a pan or skillet, I think. A hoe cake is a sort of Johnnie cake up North.”

”Here comes Mammy Jackson with some now,” said Mrs. Morton, as a fat, jolly-looking colored woman approached the visitors with a large tray.

”White folks come to visit an' we got to treat 'em quality like!”

chuckled the old negress. ”Here you is, li'l white folks,” and she presented the tray to Bunny and Sue.

It was laden with all sorts of good things that the darkies like to eat, but as some of the food was rather rich, especially for eating just before going to bed, Mrs. Brown looked at what Bunny and Sue took, allowing them only a little of each dainty. It was all clean and well cooked, and Bunny and Sue thought they had never before tasted anything so good. They did not get any 'possum meat, and perhaps they would not have liked that. It takes a real Southerner to care for that dainty.

After the eating, the singing, playing and dancing went on more wild and noisy than before, but Bunny and Sue were not allowed to stay up very late. And so, rather wis.h.i.+ng they might remain longer, they were led away, and a little while afterwards were snug in bed, listening to the faint and far-off sounds of the colored jubilee.

Two days later Mr. Brown, having finished his business in Georgia, started with his family for Orange Beach, Florida.

”We had a lovely time here!” said Sue to Grace, as they parted.

”Most fun I ever had in my life!” added Bunny. But then as he said that about nearly every place he had visited, I am beginning to think he had a very happy disposition.

”Don't eat too many oranges!” Grace called to Sue, as the Southern children watched their little guests climb aboard the train that was to take them to Florida.

”I won't,” Sue promised.

”And don't let an alligator catch you!” begged Sam of Bunny.

”I'll catch _them_!” declared the little fellow.

”Good-by! Good-by!” was echoed back and forth.

Then the train pulled out of the small station of Seedville, and once more Bunny Brown and his sister Sue were on their journey. And many things were to happen before they reached home again.