Page 77 - 1923 Hartridge

1
Prize Story
Evening
4iMammy, I want to hear just one more story.”
Lowdy, ma poah brain done wore out wid telling you ’bout fairies
’n’ ghosts, I’ll be see ’m walkin’ in ma sleep tunight. I’se got ter go in an’ put you to bed anyways; look at dat sun, it’s most gone from d’ sky and heah you askin’ me ter tel you ’nuther story.”
“ I don’t care, Nlammy, and I ’m not one bit sleepy either— I don’t want to go to bed and I do want to hear another story that’s not about
lairies or ghosts. I want a real, true, live story, please. Mammy dearest!” d'his was too much for the old negro woman. Anything this child
wanted, that was in her power to give, was his only for the pleading. “Wal, a’right honey,” she began, ‘‘Once on er time, longtime ago,
jus’ ’fore you’se born, dat mus’ been ’bout eight years ago, I guess, dat ole house on d’ uther side of dis gardin wus mighty difirunt. Dose big white pillars warn’t grey frum de weather ’n’ d’ uther part of de housewarn’t all
closed up. Dere wus three people livin’ in dat house den. Ole Colonel Merrill, wid his young son. Mars Clinton, an’ littul Miss Lucy, er daugh­
ter of an ole cousin of de Colonel. Wal, dey live here tergether ver’ happy. When dem chillun growed up dey used ter have big parties ’n’ everybody frum all ’round Richmond would come out here foah de week- en’s. Lowdy, dem wus curtainly wundurful times; all de slaves runnin' ’round de place, no sorrow ’n’ actually dis ole wurld seem happy . . . Wal, anyhow, young Mis’ Lucy and Mars Clinton didn’t seem ter care ’bout nobody ’cept each uther. Dey’ud come out heah in dis gardin an’ sit ’n’ talk ter one ’nuther ’stead of settin’ ’round wid all de people at de big house; dey didn’t seem ter care ’bout nuthin’ else. But den one day wurd come down frum Richmond ’bout d’ war. De Colonel seem auful anxious foah war, but poah Mars Clinton he turn right white when he hurd ’bout it. After dat it warn’t more ’n’ two days ’fore dis ole house wus all shet up and eve’body gone ’cept Mis’ Lucy ’n’ me. All ris ’cause Mars Clinton had gone ter fight wid de Yankees ’n’ de ole Colonel morterfyed at his son, had jined his compn’y in Richmond. De day de Colonel rode off on his big white boss down de long avenue, wus de last time I evah set eyes on him, ’cause jes’ coupla months after dat he had died uv de fevah. But de wurse part wus dat poah, poah Mis’ Lucy didn’t nevah hear frum Mars
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