Various - McClure\'s Magazine, Vol. 31, No. 1, May 1908
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Various >> McClure\'s Magazine, Vol. 31, No. 1, May 1908
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They _all_ looked around rather doubtfully, as if they did not feel
quite so sure on this point; but, as no disembodied spirit spoke up in
denial of the assertion, it was gradually accepted.
"Yes; and these bodies have a great many different _parts_, haven't
they?"
"Yas'm," came, rather faintly.
"Why, yes, indeed," went on Miss North, quite gaily, "a great many
different _parts_. Now, what are some of these parts, children? Who
can think?"
There was a moment of tremendous concentration, and then a dozen hands
went up.
"Well, Alphonso Jones--and make a nice sentence, Alphonso."
"Yer haid is part uv yer body," stated Alphonso, as though he were not
in the habit of being contradicted.
"Yes, very true. Your head is part of your body. And now, as different
parts of the head, we have--" putting her fingers suggestively to her
ears----
"Ears!" shouted a tremendous chorus.
[Illustration: "'I'SE JUS 'BLIGE WHUP 'IM ALL DE WAY TER SCHOOL'"]
"Yes; and--" closing her eyes, and just touching the lids lightly, as
the most delicate hint possible----
"Eyes!" shouted a yet more tremendous chorus.
"Yes; and now, since the eyes are such a very important part of the
head, let us think how we can take very good _care_ of the eyes."
This sounded rather complicated, and there was another moment of awful
concentration. Even Trusty appeared to be thinking warmly on the
subject.
"Well, Ezekiel, what do you say?"
"Not pick no holes in 'em wid no pin," suggested Ezekiel pleasantly.
"Why, Ezekiel, certainly not! Of course we shouldn't want to pick
holes in them with a pin; but--well, what do you say, Tommy?"
"Not pick no holes in 'em wid no needle!" explained Tommy, his face
all aglow with enthusiasm.
"Why, no, indeed! Of course not--why, of course _not_. But that isn't
just what I mean, because of course you would never think of doing
that anyway, would you, Tommy?"
Hands were waving madly in all directions now; but when young Charles
Sumner Scott raised his with its usual effect of poise and precision,
Miss North considered the situation saved. Charles usually saved the
situation.
"How must we treat the eyes if we want to keep them nice and strong,
Charles?"
"Not pick no holes in 'em wid no _hat_-pin!" announced Charles.
"Hands down!" ordered Miss North.
Hands down, indeed!
"Hezzy Cones, did you hear what I said?"
"Yath'm! Not pick no holthe in 'em wid no _hair_-pin!" shouted Hezzy,
not to be walked over so easily, and jubilant at this slight
variation.
The new pupil had waked up, too.
"Not pick no holes in 'em wid no _knittin'-needle_!" he sang loudly,
in a perfect burst of inspiration.
This was a stroke of genius, and they all looked around on the
new-comer admiringly, and looked a little doubtful, for a moment, as
to whether anything more could be said on the subject.
Ezekiel fairly radiated at his friend's success.
[Illustration: "I KIN GET 'EM YERE, EF YER WANTS."]
"Now, wait, children!" said Miss North, with emphasis amounting almost
to severity. "Our answers are getting wild--very wild. And I do not
wish to hear anything more about _pins_ or _needles_ or _hat-pins_ or
_knitting-needles_. I should like to see you all _very straight_ in
your seats."
There was a tremendous effort at straightening up, whereupon Miss
North proceeded to make a few valuable suggestions in regard to the
treatment of the eyes.
"Now," said Miss North, as if she were propounding a theory of rare
and striking originality, "_who_ can tell me another part of the
body?"
The pause was long; they were evidently feeling somewhat sore over
their last setback.
"Well?" encouraged Miss North.
"Yer laigs," mumbled a stuffy voice from the back of the room.
"Yes, your legs, Samuel; that is quite right. And perhaps you can tell
me what your legs are for, Samuel. But wait; we will _think_ before
answering."
"Ter se' down with," answered Samuel comfortably.
"No, Samuel; you evidently did _not_ think; they are for nothing of
the kind," returned Miss North shortly.
Trusty's hand was waving with unmistakable interest. Miss North was
painfully aware that he must be encouraged.
"Well, Trusty," she ventured, "what are your legs for?"
"_Ter hole yer feet on!_" shouted Trusty, in a perfect spasm of joyous
interest.
Miss North essayed to collect her thoughts.
"Well, hardly, hardly for--_that alone_, are they, Trusty? Tell me
what else they are for."
But Trusty failed to find any other use to which he could put the
legs, and Miss North again took the floor; whereupon Trusty's interest
immediately subsided.
Later on, she attempted, somewhat cautiously, to draw him out once
more; but the day went on, and not once again did Trusty deign to come
to the front.
* * * * *
The next morning Miss Doane was at school early. She had been working
for some moments at her desk in the Assembly Room, when she became
aware that again an unusual sort of demonstration was taking place in
the outside hall. To the hall Miss Doane went; and there, once more,
she was met by the large colored man and the small colored boy.
"Jes 'blige ter 'ply de same kine o' coaxin', Miss! Whup 'im all de
way yere! Ain't I, Trusty?"
Poor Trusty appeared almost too spent even to reply; and Miss Doane
looked at him and suggested that he go to his seat and rest.
"M-m-m--ain' gwine no seat 'n' res'!" he growled.
His father intervened: "Yer see, Miss? Yer see? He's de hard-haidedes'
chile I'se got, an' dat's de trufe. Come 'long, now, boy; jes come
'long, now!" And, without ceremony, Trusty was lifted with a firm hand
and transported through the Assembly Room to his seat, where he was
deposited with a thump.
Miss North looked up in mild surprise.
"Why, Trusty! Good morning!"
Trusty's response was a thing of conjecture.
"And so you are back at school again; and aren't you glad, after all,
to come back to this nice school?"
"M-m-m--school nuthin'!" was the unexpectedly prompt response.
"Yer'll fine 'im mighty wearisome, I 'spec', Miss," put in the parent.
"But whup 'im! Dat's all I kin say. Whup 'im _all_ de time; an' me 'n'
'Mandy'll wuk on 'im nights 'n' mawnin's."
Miss North looked at the diminutive object but half filling his seat,
and caught her breath.
Another day of alternate gloom and occasional spasmodic interest on
Trusty's part, another day of doubts and fears in his behalf on the
part of Miss North.
That night, just as he was about to scuffle disconsolately behind the
others from the room, picturing, no doubt, some of the joys which were
awaiting him at home, she called him back. Ezekiel stood by her desk,
wondering why she had called him, too.
"Trusty," she began, "wouldn't you like to come to school to-morrow
morning with Ezekiel?"
Trusty looked up doubtfully, and Ezekiel looked up, not just
comprehending.
"You live near each other, don't you?"
"No'm," Ezekiel's tone wavered anxiously. "No'm, we don't live nare
each udder, Miss No'th; Trusty he live clare way _down_ de road."
He stopped, meditating; then his face seemed to clear somewhat of its
burden of thought. "But I reckon--I kin _git_ 'im yere, ef yer wants,
Miss No'th; yas'm, I--I kin git 'im yere, ef yer wants, 'cuz I kin go
af' 'im an' git 'im. Yas'm, I kin ca'y 'im ter school, Miss No'th!"
Trusty looked a bit doubtful as to whether he should entirely fall in
with the plan, and Miss North made haste to readjust herself.
"No'm, 'tain' no trouble, Miss No'th; no'm. I kin ca'y 'im ter school
ter-morrer, cyan't I, Trusty?"
Trusty still appeared to be doubting heavily; but Ezekiel's assurances
continued to ring warmly, as they moved on toward the door and
disappeared into the hall.
* * * * *
It was still early the next morning when Miss North worked alone in
the school-room. Slowly the door opened. Slowly two small figures
pushed their way awkwardly into the room. Miss North looked up.
"Why, Ezekiel! And Trusty!"
They came in softly, hand in hand, and stood before her desk, Trusty
passive, Ezekiel glowing shyly with pride and pleasure.
"Hyeah's Trusty, Miss No'th," he explained briefly.
"I see. Why, how--how very nice! And so nice and early! Why, Trusty,
aren't you glad you could get here so early?"
Trusty seemed hardly ready to commit himself just yet, but began to
look shyly pleased, too. Ezekiel, still holding him by the hand,
looked down protectingly.
[Illustration: "TWO SMALL FIGURES PUSHED THEIR WAY INTO THE ROOM"]
"Yas'm, he--he likes ter git yere early; doan't yer, Trusty?"
"Yes, I'm sure he does," put in Miss North tactfully. "And now,
perhaps he would like to help by getting some of the dust out of these
erasers; they aren't very clean this morning."
His eyes brightened. "Yas'm!"
The two came back looking as if they had been temporarily detained in
a flour-barrel.
"Why, yes, those are very clean; but you seem to be just a little
dusty yourselves, aren't you?"
"Yas'm," agreed Trusty, while Ezekiel brushed him with doubtful
success. "Kin ole Sam'el Smiff dus' 'em?"
"Samuel Smith? I don't think Samuel ever did dust them----"
"'Cuz me 'n' 'Zekiel kin dus' 'em good's dat 'mos' _any_ time; cyan't
we, 'Zekiel?"
By the time that school was ready to begin that morning, there stood a
stately line of "visitors from the North" across Miss North's room,
ready for enlightenment on the Negro Problem. And as Miss North began:
"We are having a new month to-day, children; who can tell me what the
name of the month is?" the line drew itself up, preparatory to getting
right down to the heart of the matter.
"What month, class?"
"February!"
"Yes; very good. Is February a short month or a long month?"
There was an unfortunate difference of opinion:
"Short!" "Long!" "Short!" "Long!" "_Short!_" "_Long!_"
"Very well," joined in Miss North, ready to agree to anything. "What
do you say about it, Archelus?"
"Li'l' teeny bit uv a short month," explained Archelus. "Ain' no
longer'n----"
As Archelus was about to illustrate the length of February with his
two small hands, Miss North waived any further information on the
subject, and went on:
"Yes, a short month. And who can tell me what holiday we have in this
month?"
There were two or three who promptly arrived at conclusions. The
visitors were smiling wide smiles of appreciation.
"Lemuel?"
"Chris'mas!"
"Oh, no; we have just had Christmas. Samuel?"
"Thanksgivin'!"
"Why, no, indeed, Samuel; you are not thinking. William?"
"Washin'ton's Birthday!"
One of the visitors, a rosy-cheeked gentleman with white hair, gave
such a loud grunt of appreciation at this that Miss North glanced his
way.
"Can he tell us anything _about_ George Washington?" he questioned
smilingly, in response to Miss North's glance.
"Oh, I think so. Who can tell me some one thing about George
Washington, children? Hands, please."
"That little boy," smiled the rosy-cheeked gentleman; "he seems to be
getting so very much interested!"
Heavens! it was Trusty who was getting interested. Miss North glanced
at his face, which radiated with delighted intelligence as he fixed
his eyes on the closed coat-closet, and felt a chilling and definite
foreboding.
"H-m--yes," she went on evasively, "yes. Ezekiel, can you tell
us--something about--" What was the matter? Had _Ezekiel_ forgotten
how to talk? To be sure! His eyes, kindling with interest and pride,
were fixed on his friend.
"No, no! This one," explained the rosy-cheeked gentleman, his eyes
still resting smilingly on Trusty. "Well, what do you know about
George Washington, little fellow?"
"_Miss No'th got 'im shet up in de coat-closet!_"
The rosy-cheeked gentleman stepped back a bit, and there was suddenly
a rather startled expression on the part of the visitors from the
North. Somewhat furtively they glanced at the coat-closet, apparently
expecting to see the immortal George emerge in person at any moment.
Miss North coughed slightly, and looked as if she had known happier
times.
"You may be seated, Trusty."
"She shet 'im in dere fer imperdence!" explained Trusty.
But just then the door creaked softly, and from the unknown depths of
the coat-closet a little figure peered anxiously.
"Mith No'th! Kin I come out now?"
Miss North looked at the small figure, and then at the visitors from
the North, whereupon they all looked at her; and then suddenly the
rosy-cheeked gentleman burst out into such unchecked, joyous laughter
that the others all joined in, and the visitors from the North moved
on.
At the same time, there was a thump on the door which opened from the
back hall, and a large and ancient colored man advanced into the room.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: "THAT LITTLE BOY, SMILED THE ROSY-CHEEKED GENTLEMAN"]
"Mawnin', Miss, mawnin'!" he began in loud, cheerful tones. "'Scusin'
de privilege o' de interruption, I'se 'blige ax yer kin I borry Trusty
fer a li'l' w'ile, 'spesh'ly fer de 'casion?"
Just what the occasion was he did not explain; but Trusty, possibly
receiving suggestive glimmers of inward light on the subject, and
being at this particular moment otherwise interested, began to show
evidence of unexpected combativeness.
"M-m-m--I ain' gwine be 'scuse fer no 'casion," he mumbled
cantankerously.
"Come, now, boy, ya-as, yer is, too!" disagreed the parent, advancing
toward the subject of complication. "Yer see, Miss! Ain't I tole yer
he's de hard-haidedes' chile? Fus I'se 'blige whup 'im school, 'n'
nex' I cyan' git 'im 'way ter bless me! Ain't I jes tole yer!" And
again, with a firm hand, Trusty was lifted and transported across the
room to the open door. Miss North hastily suggested the final
formalities requisite for an excuse, but her voice was quite lost
among the reverberations of a more powerful organ:
"Ain't I jes tole yer so! Ya-as, yer is, too! Ain't I jes tole yer!
Come 'long, now; jes come 'long, now!"
They disappeared through the doorway, and then only the final
reverberations came back to them as Trusty was triumphantly exhorted
on his way.
* * * * *
But the worst of vicissitudes, and the best of them, only wait to give
place to new ones, and the old days change to new ones and the weeks
and the months go on; and, as the oft-repeated act becomes a habit, so
it had finally become an unvarying habit for Ezekiel to arrive at
school with Trusty's hand held loosely in his own, while Trusty
himself plodded unresistingly at his side.
But occasionally there comes a time, too, when the habitual thing
fails to happen.
It was one morning toward the end of May. Miss North had glanced at
the clock, which hovered close to nine, and then she had glanced
around the room at several waiting children, and into the yard, which
was filling rapidly, and wondered, half passively, why Ezekiel and
Trusty had not come. In a quickly changing, drifting undercurrent of
thought, she remembered their first arrival together--just how they
had looked as they stood, hand in hand, before her desk. Again, she
remembered Trusty as he had looked that first day, just after his
arrival, first sullenly rebelling, and then vibrating, as it were,
between a state of absolute indifference and one of suddenly aroused
interest. Strange, how it had grown to be a regular thing for Trusty
to be "interested"! She glanced around the room and out to the yard
again, and wondered why they didn't come; and when one of the children
came in from outside with an excited story of "ole Trusty racin' down
de road, an' 'is father after 'im," she listened.
"Ole man Miles say Trusty he cyan' come school dis yere day, an'
Trusty say he is, an' 'Zekiel say he is, too, an' ole man say he
ain't, an' Trusty 'n' 'Zekiel say he is, an' start off down de road
jes a-runnin'! An' ole man af' 'em clean all de way yere!"
A moment after this enthusiastic announcement, the school-room door
burst open, and Ezekiel came lurching into the room, half carrying,
half dragging Trusty, who was spattered with mud and dirt from head to
foot.
"_Miss No'th! He say he cyan' come!_" cried Ezekiel. "_He--he say--he
cyan' come--no mo'!_" He stumbled against her desk, and Trusty dropped
limply down before him, feebly snatching at Miss North's skirts.
"He--he--say--I cyan'--come--no mo'!" he whispered in a faint, panting
echo.
Ezekiel dropped heavily against the desk, his breath catching
convulsively in his throat. "He--he lock 'im up so he cyan' come
ter--ter school!" he choked. "But--T-Trusty he say he--he is, an' he
keep on tellin' 'im he--is--an' he is! An'--an' he jes say--he cyan'
come--no--mo'!" His head bumped down between his arms, and he waited,
his breath still catching in his throat. "An' I--I tells 'im he--he's
'_blige_ ter come! But--'tain'--no--use; he--he--jes lock de do'!
An'--an' we jumps outen de winder, an'--an' he cotch T-Trusty 'n' lock
'im up 'gin--an'--an' he jumps outen 'gin--'cuz he keeps on tellin'
'im he--he's--'b-blige ter come ter--ter school! He--he tells 'im
he's--jes--'_b-blige ter come!_"
With hushed faces, the children gazed first at Ezekiel and then at
Miss North. With an involuntary movement of the arms, she made a
movement toward him. But a small heap of a boy stirred at her feet,
and she looked down. A possibility, suddenly realized, seemed to seize
him, and he looked up, clinging to her in helpless terror.
"Doan't yer let 'im tek me back!" he whispered hoarsely, "so I cyan'
git 'way! Doan't yer, Miss No'th! Please doan't yer! 'Cuz--ain't I
'blige--ain't I 'blige--s-seem like--some'ow"--Miss North bent down to
hear it--"s-seem like--some'ow--t-ter-day--I'se jes--'_blige ter be
yere!_"
She heard the faint, choked whisper, and she saw the trembling little
figure. She saw the other little figure, and then again the faint,
choked whisper came sounding up to her ears. But dimly, dimly--just
for the moment--she seemed to hear something else--to see another
little boy, whipped to school by a coarse, brutish man, yet all the
while helplessly struggling against it. That other little boy--again
the small hands caught at her skirts.
"Doan't yer let 'im! Will yer, Miss No'th?"
She lifted him from the floor.
"No--I won't let him," and she put him gently into his seat.
Still, with hushed faces, the children gazed wonderingly.... She held
out her arms.
"Come, Ezekiel!" Was Miss North going to cry?
"Sit down--right here, Ezekiel; you are very--tired!"
He still hung over the desk, and she went up to him between the seats.
"Eze-kiel! Come! Come--my dear little boy!"
But there was the sound of an opening door, and she turned.
In the doorway stood a large and ancient-looking colored man, and for
a moment he only stood there, breathing laboriously and murmuring in
strange, half-audible tones. Then, with sudden unexpected perception,
he took in the scene before him. Half mortified, half conciliatory, he
turned to Miss North.
"Jes all completely wrop in dey edjercation!" he explained
ingratiatingly, with resigned indulgence. His eyes rested on Trusty.
"Cert'nly did use ter be de boss o' dat boy! Cert'nly did!" He looked
at Ezekiel and chuckled indulgently. "But look like times is change!
Cert'nly is change! Ya-as, suh, I jes natchelly pass de case over ter
you!"
He turned around and went out again--and Ezekiel looked up at Miss
North through his tears.
[Illustration]
FIRST DAYS OF THE RECONSTRUCTION
BY
CARL SCHURZ
ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
My travels in the interior of the South in the summer and fall of 1865
took me over the track of Sherman's march, which, in South Carolina at
least, looked for many miles like a broad black streak of ruin and
desolation--fences gone, lonesome smoke-stacks, surrounded by dark
heaps of ashes and cinders, marking the spots where human habitations
had stood, the fields along the road wildly overgrown by weeds, with
here and there a sickly-looking patch of cotton or corn cultivated by
negro squatters. In the city of Columbia, the political capital of the
State, I found a thin fringe of houses encircling a confused mass of
charred ruins of dwellings and business buildings which had been
destroyed by a sweeping conflagration.
No part of the South I then visited had, indeed, suffered as much from
the ravages of the war as South Carolina--the State which was looked
upon by the Northern soldier as the principal instigator of the whole
mischief and therefore deserving of special punishment. But even those
regions which had been touched but little or not at all by military
operations were laboring under dire distress. The Confederate money in
the hands of the Southern people, paper money signed by the
Confederate government without any security behind it, had by the
collapse of the Confederacy become entirely worthless. Only a few
individuals of more or less wealth had been fortunate enough to save,
and to keep throughout the war, small hoards of gold and silver, which
in the aggregate amounted to little. Immediately after the close of
the war the people may be said to have been substantially without a
"circulating medium" to serve in the transaction of ordinary business.
United States money came in to fill the vacuum, but it could not be
had for nothing; it could be obtained only by selling something for
it, in the shape of goods or of labor. The Southern people, having
during four years of war devoted their productive activity, aside from
the satisfaction of their current home wants, almost entirely to the
sustenance of their army and of the machinery of their government, and
having suffered great losses by the destruction of property, had, of
course, very little to sell. In fact, they were dreadfully
impoverished and needed all their laboring capacity to provide for the
wants of the next day; and as agriculture was their main resource,
upon which everything else depended, the next day was to them of
supreme importance.
_The First Crop Without Slaves_
But now the men come home from the war found their whole agricultural
labor system turned upside down. Slave labor had been their absolute
reliance. They had been accustomed to it, they had believed in it,
they had religiously regarded it as a necessity in the order of the
universe. During the war a large majority of the negroes had stayed
upon the plantations and attended to the crops in the wonted way in
those regions which were not touched by the Union armies. They had
heard of "Mas'r Lincoln's" Emancipation Proclamation in a more or less
vague way, but did not know exactly what it meant, and preferred to
remain quietly at work and wait for further developments. But when the
war was over, general emancipation became a well-understood reality.
The negro knew that he was a free man, and the Southern white man
found himself face to face with the problem of dealing with the negro
as a free laborer. To most of the Southern whites this problem was
utterly bewildering. Many of them, honest and well-meaning people,
admitted to me, with a sort of helpless stupefaction, that their
imagination was wholly incapable of grasping the fact that their
former slaves were now free. And yet they had to deal with this
perplexing fact, and practically to accommodate themselves to it, at
once and without delay, if they were to have any crops that year.
Many of them would frankly recognize this necessity and begin in good
faith to consider how they might meet it. But then they stumbled
forthwith over a set of old prejudices which in their minds had
acquired the stubborn force of convictions. They were sure the negro
would not work without physical compulsion; they were sure the negro
did not, and never would, understand the nature of a contract; and so
on. Yes, they "accepted the situation." Yes, they recognized that the
negro was henceforth to be a free man. But could not some method of
force be discovered and introduced to compel the negro to work? It
goes without saying that persons of such a way of thinking labored
under a heavy handicap in going at a difficult task with a settled
conviction that it was really "useless to try." But even if they did
try, and found that the negro might, after all, be induced to work
without physical compulsion, they were apt to be seriously troubled by
things which would not at all trouble an employer accustomed to free
labor. I once had an argument with a Georgia planter who vociferously
insisted that one of his negro laborers who had objected to a whipping
had thereby furnished the most conclusive proof of his unfitness for
freedom. And such statements were constantly reinforced by further
assertion that they, the Southern whites, understood the negro and
knew how to treat him, and that we of the North did not and never
would.
This might have been true in one sense, but not true in another. The
Southerner knew better than the Northerner how to treat the negro as a
slave, but it did not follow that he knew best how to treat the negro
as a freeman; and just there was the rub. It was perhaps too much to
expect of the Southern slaveholders, or of Southern society generally,
that a clear judgment of the new order of things should have come to
them at once. The total overturning of the whole labor system of a
country, accomplished suddenly, without preparation or general
transition, is a tremendous revolution, a terrible wrench, well apt to
confuse men's minds. It should not have surprised any fair-minded
person that many Southern people for a time clung to the accustomed
idea that the landowner must also own the black man tilling his land,
and that any assertion of freedom of action on the part of that black
man was insubordination equivalent to criminal revolt, and any dissent
by the black man from the employer's opinion or taste intolerable
insolence. Nor should it be forgotten that the urgent necessity of
negro labor for that summer's crop could hardly fail to sharpen the
nervous tension then disquieting Southern society.
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