The county judge and several other men came in and the talk concerning
the threatened negro outbreak was again taken up. "It seems rather
singular," said the Judge, "that we should worry through a storm of
politics and escape any very serious bloodshed and reach a climax after
all these years. Of course when two races of people, wholly at variance
in morals and social standing, inhabit the same community, there is
always more or less danger, still I don't think that the negroes have so
little sense----"
"Ah, the point I made," the Major broke in. "But you see a labor plank
has been added to their platform of grievance."
Parker nudged his neighbor. "I says, says I, 'Nancy, John Cranceford for
the right word.'"
"There's something in that," the Judge replied. "Nothing can be madder
than misled labor. We have been singularly free from that sort of
disturbances, but I suppose our time must come sooner or later. But I
think the militia will have a good effect so far as the negroes
themselves are concerned. But of course if the soldiers come and the
trouble blows over without any demonstration whatever, there will be
considerable dissatisfaction among the people as to why such a step
should have been taken. Uncle Parker," he added, turning to the
record-keeper, "think we'll have much cold weather this winter?"
Parker did not answer at once. He knew that glibness would argue against
due meditation. "I see a good many signs," he slowly answered. "Hornets
hung their nests on the low limbs of the trees, and there are other
indications, still it largely depends on the condition of the wind.
Sometimes a change of wind knocks out all calculations, still, I feel
assured in saying that we are goin' to have a good deal of frost first
and last; but if the militia don't get here in time we are mighty apt to
have it hotter before we have it colder. Last night while I sat at home
by the fire a smokin' of my pipe, and Nancy a-settin' there a-nittin' a
pair of socks for a preacher, I looks up and I says, 'there's goin' to
be trouble in this community before many changes of the moon,' I says,
and I want at all surprised to-day when the Major here come a-ridin' in
with his news. Don't reckon any of you ricollect the time we come mighty
nigh havin' a nigger uprisin' before the war. But we nipped it in the
bud; and I know they hung a yaller feller that cost me fifteen hundred
dollars in gold."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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