LITTLE JACK

Yes, suh. 'T was jes' 'bout sundown Dad went—two months ago; I always used ter run down Dat time, bec'us', you know, I wudden like ter had him die, An' no one nigh.

You see, we cudden git him Ter come 'way off dat lan'— 'E said New House did n' fit him, No mo' 'n new shoes did; an' Gord mout miss him at Jedgment day, Ef he moved 'way.

"How ole?" Ef we all wondered How ole he was, he 'd frown An' say he was "a hundred an— Ole Miss done sot it down, An' she could tell—'t was fo' or five— Ef she was live."

Well, when, as I was sayin', Dat night I come on down, I see he bench was layin' Flat-sided on de groun'; An' I kinder hurried to'ds de do'— Quick-like, you know.

Inside I see him layin' Back, quiet, on de bed; An' I heahed him kep on sayin': "Dat 's what ole Marster said; An' Marster warn' gwine tell me lie, He 'll come by-m'-by."

I axed how he was gettin'. "Nigh ter de furrow's een'," He said; "dis ebenin', settin' Outside de do', I seen De thirteen curlews come in line, An' knowed de sign.

"You know, ole Marster tole me He 'd come for me 'fo' long; 'Fo' you was born, he sole me— But den he pined so strong He come right arter Little Jack, An' buyed him back.

"I went back ter de kerrige An' tuk dem reins ag'in. I druv him ter his marriage; An', nigger, 't was a sin Ter see de high an' mighty way I looked dat day!

"Dat coat had nary button 'Skusin' it was ob gole; My hat—but dat warn't nuttin'! 'T was noble ter behole De way dem hosses pawed de yar, Wid me up dyar.

"Now all 's w'ared out befo' me!— Marster, an' coat, an' all; Me only lef—you know me!— Cheat wheat 's de lars' ter fall: De rank grain ben's wid its own weight, De light stan's straight.

"But heah! Ole Marster 's waitin'— So I mus' tell you: raise De jice dyar; 'neaf de platin'— De sweat o' many days Is in dat stockin'—toil an' pain In sun an' rain.

"I worked ter save dem figgers Ter buy you; but de Lord He sot free all de niggers, Same as white-folks, 'fo' Gord! Free as de crows! Free as de stars! Free as ole hyars!

"Now, chile, you teck dat money, Git on young Marster's track, An' pay it ter him, honey; An' tell him Little Jack Worked forty year, dis Chris'mus come, Ter save dat sum;

"An' dat 't was for ole Marster, To buy your time f'om him; But dat de war come farster, An' squandered stock an' lim'— Say you kin work an' don't need none, An' he carn't, son.

"He ain' been use ter diggin' His livin' out de dirt; He carn't drink out a piggin, Like you; an' it 'ud hurt Ole Marster's pride, an' make him sw'ar, In glory dyar!"

Den all his strength seemed fallin'; He shet his eyes awhile, An' den said: "Heish! he 's callin'! Dyar he! Now watch him smile! Yes, suh—You niggers jes' stan' back! Marster, here 's Jack!"