An Unofficial PatriotGardener, Helen H. (Helen Hamilton)
History
An Unofficial Patriot
Gardener, Helen H. (Helen Hamilton)
United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Griffith, what harm can it do? And see how _much_ good! Griffith, we
will _all_ love you better if you will. I can't bear to see Sallie the
way she has been these last two months--ever since it was decided to
sell John to that man when he comes. It is heart-breaking. You know,
darling, she played with me ever since we were babies, and she has been
_so_ good to my children--_our_ children, Griffith!" She lowered her
voice to a mere whisper: "Can God want you to be so cruel as this,
Griffith?"
Mr. Davenport had never dreamed that anything he might feel it his duty
to do would seem to his wife like cruelty. It hurt him sorely. He looked
up at her with a drawn face.
"Katherine," he said, "let us give Sallie her freedom, and let her go
with John."
"No, no, no, no! I ain't gwine ter go wid dat man! I ain't gwine ter
be no free wife nigger, 'pendin' on him! I ain't gwine ter leabe Mis'
Kath'rine, nedder!" She arose in her fear, which was turning to wrath.
"Mis' Kate, yoh ain't gwine ter let him gib me away, is yoh? I don'
belong to nobody ter gib away, but des ter my Mis' Kate, an' she ain't
gwine ter gib me 'way arter I done nus her chillun an' save de life of
Mos' Beverly! Dat ain't dekine o' lady my Mis' Kate is! O Mis' Kate,
Mis' Kate! I done wisht yoh'd a-gone and married dat Mos' Tom Harrison
dat time wat'e ax you! _He_ don't lub money dat much dat he can't spahr
a little six hund'ud dollahs ter sabe me an' John an'--an'--an' dis heah
baby!"
She caught up the baby from the floor again and held it toward her
master.
"Dar! take hit an' kill hit fus' as well as las'! kase _I_ gwine ter
die, an' hit gwine ter be my Mos' Grif dat kill bofe of us. God gwine
ter know'bout dat! John gwine ter tell'im! Jesus gwine ter know dat six
little hund'ud dollahs is wuf more ter my Mos' Grif dan me an' yoh an'
John," she moaned, holding the baby up in front of her. "All free, bofe
ob us, ain't wuf dat little much t' ouh Mos' Grift All free, bofe ob
us! A little, teenchy, ugly six hund'ud dollahs! He radder hab hit in
de bank er in de desk er in he pocket--dat little six hund'ud dollahs
what's mo' bigger dan _all_ ob us--an' mo' bigger dan Mis' Kate's lub!"
She fell to sobbing again. "Des dat little much! Des dat little much!"
she moaned. "All ob us got ter die fer des dat little much! An' Mos'
Grif, he don' care. He lub dat little much money mo' dan wat he do _all_
ob us, countin' in Mis' Kate's lub wid de res'!"
His wife had gone to her chair and was holding a handkerchief to her
face. He could see her lips and chin tremble.
"I will buy John, Sallie, if------"
Sallie grasped the two hands again. They were relaxed and cold.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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