Harper's Round Table, November 3, 1896 — John Shaqi
Harper's Round Table, November 3, 1896Various
History
Harper's Round Table, November 3, 1896
Various
Children's periodicals
"Mamma," I had inquired, "are we always going to live here?"
I remember that she had looked at me strangely, and the next day the
preparations were made for the great change. It is little things that
occasion them usually in life, I notice.
When the coach stopped at the cross-roads tavern, the passengers gazed
at us most curiously. The guard nudged his companion and whispered
something, and a tall man in an officer's uniform politely handed my
mother to a seat inside. Then the horn blew, the driver touched up the
horses, and away we went.
I began to feel frightened. We passed houses and plantations with
hundreds of colored people working in the fields, and at last, a little
past noonday, we entered the town of Baltimore, and drove to an inn. The
sight of so many people and of boys of my own age playing in the
streets, the near-by glimpses of the shipping at the wharfs, thrilled
and excited me; and as we descended from the coach, I held fast to my
mother's skirt and would have hidden. The landlord of the inn hastened
out and received us with the greatest consideration. After some bowing
and scraping, and many orders to the negro servants, he turned from my
mother, and poking out his finger in my direction, addressed a question
to me, to which I falteringly replied in a manner that was evidently
unintelligible, from the look on his face. I must have spoken French in
my embarrassment.
We did not stay long at the inn--two or three days at the most; then we
went to live in a little house that my mother had rented at the corner
of the street. Aunt Sheba and the two other servants joined us. It was
my mother's intention to go back to the plantation for the rest of the
property she had left behind her; but she put off the expedition time
after time, although she often spoke of doing so as if it were a duty
neglected.
Now I went to school at a Mr. Thompson's, a cross-faced, snuffy
individual, who wondered at my knowledge of Latin and marvelled at my
simplicity. But it did not take me long to adapt myself to
circumstances. After I had fought two or three battles with the lads of
my own age, they decided that I was better as a friend than as an enemy,
and I grew, more than likely, to think and behave as any one of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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