Sketches of Southern life

FRANCES E. WATKINS HARPER.

PHILADELPHIA: FERGUSON BROS. & CO., Printers No. 15 North Seventh Street. 1891.

SKETCHES OF SOUTHERN LIFE.

AUNT CHLOE.

I remember, well remember, That dark and dreadful day, When they whispered to me, “Chloe, Your children’s sold away!”

It seemed as if a bullet Had shot me through and through, And I felt as if my heart-strings Was breaking right in two.

And I says to cousin Milly, “There must be some mistake; Where’s Mistus?” “In the great house crying— Crying like her heart would break.

“And the lawyer’s there with Mistus; Says he’s come to ’ministrate, ’Cause when master died he just left Heap of debt on the estate.

“And I thought ’twould do you good To bid your boys good-bye— To kiss them both and shake their hands, And have a hearty cry.

“Oh! Chloe, I knows how you feel, ’Cause I’se been through it all; I thought my poor old heart would break, When master sold my Saul.”

Just then I heard the footsteps Of my children at the door, And I rose right up to meet them, But I fell upon the floor.

And I heard poor Jakey saying, “Oh, mammy, don’t you cry!” And I felt my children kiss me And bid me, both, good-bye.

Then I had a mighty sorrow, Though I nursed it all alone; But I wasted to a shadow, And turned to skin and bone.

But one day dear Uncle Jacob (In heaven he’s now a saint) Said, “Your poor heart is in the fire, But child you must not faint.”

Then I said to Uncle Jacob, If I was good like you, When the heavy trouble dashed me I’d know just what to do.

Then he said to me, “Poor Chloe, The way is open wide:” And he told me of the Saviour, And the fountain in His side.

Then he said “Just take your burden To the blessed Master’s feet; I takes all my troubles, Chloe, Right unto the mercy-seat.”

His words waked up my courage, And I began to pray, And I felt my heavy burden Rolling like a stone away.

And a something seemed to tell me, You will see your boys again— And that hope was like a poultice Spread upon a dreadful pain.

And it often seemed to whisper, Chloe, trust and never fear; You’ll get justice in the kingdom, If you do not get it here.

THE DELIVERANCE.

Master only left old Mistus One bright and handsome boy; But she fairly doted on him, He was her pride and joy.

We all liked Mister Thomas, He was so kind at heart; And when the young folks got in scrapes, He always took their part.

He kept right on that very way Till he got big and tall, And old Mistus used to chide him, And say he’d spile us all.

But somehow the farm did prosper When he took things in hand; And though all the servants liked him, He made them understand.

One evening Mister Thomas said, “Just bring my easy shoes: I am going to sit by mother, And read her up the news.”

Soon I heard him tell old Mistus “We’re bound to have a fight; But we’ll whip the Yankees, mother, We’ll whip them sure as night!”

Then I saw old Mistus tremble; She gasped and held her breath; And she looked on Mister Thomas With a face as pale as death.

“They are firing on Fort Sumpter; Oh! I wish that I was there!— Why, dear mother! what’s the matter? You’re the picture of despair.”

“I was thinking, dearest Thomas, ’Twould break my very heart If a fierce and dreadful battle Should tear our lives apart.”

“None but cowards, dearest mother, Would skulk unto the rear, When the tyrant’s hand is shaking, All the heart is holding dear.”

I felt sorry for old Mistus; She got too full to speak; But I saw the great big tear-drops A running down her cheek.

Mister Thomas too was troubled With choosing on that night, Betwixt staying with his mother And joining in the fight.

Soon down into the village came A call for volunteers; Mistus gave up Mister Thomas, With many sighs and tears.

His uniform was real handsome; He looked so brave and strong; But somehow I couldn’t help thinking His fighting must be wrong.

Though the house was very lonesome, I thought ’twould all come right, For I felt somehow or other We was mixed up in that fight.

And I said to Uncle Jacob, “Now old Mistus feels the sting, For this parting with your children Is a mighty dreadful thing.”

“Never mind,” said Uncle Jacob, “Just wait and watch and pray, For I feel right sure and certain, Slavery’s bound to pass away;

“Because I asked the Spirit, If God is good and just, How it happened that the masters Did grind us to the dust.

“And something reasoned right inside, Such should not always be; And you could not beat it out my head, The Spirit spoke to me.”