I would not make a wanton jest here of Mrs. Johnson's anxiety to
claim honor for the African color, while denying this color in many
of her own family. It afforded a glimpse of the pain with which all
her people must endure, however proudly they hide it or light-
heartedly forget it, from the despite and contumely to which they are
guiltlessly born; and when I thought how irreparable was this
disgrace and calamity of a black skin, and how irreparable it must be
for ages yet, in this world where every other chance and all manner
of wilful guilt and wickedness may hope for covert and pardon, I had
little heart to laugh. Indeed, it was so pathetic to hear this poor
old soul talk of her dead and lost ones, and try, in spite of all Mr.
Johnson's theories and her own arrogant generalizations to establish
their whiteness, that we must have been very cruel and silly people
to turn their sacred fables even into matter of question. I have no
doubt that her Antoinette Anastasia and her Thomas Jefferson
Wilberforce--it is impossible to give a full idea of the splendor and
scope of the baptismal names in Mrs. Johnson's family--have as light
skins and as golden hair in heaven as her reverend maternal fancy
painted for them in our world. There, certainly, they would not be
subject to tanning, which had ruined the delicate complexion, and had
knotted into black woolly tangles the once wavy blond locks of our
little maid-servant Naomi; and I would fain believe that Toussaint
Washington Johnson, who ran away to sea so many years ago, has found
some fortunate zone where his hair and skin keep the same sunny and
rosy tints they wore to his mother's eyes in infancy. But I have no
means of knowing this, or of telling whether he was the prodigy of
intellect that he was declared to be. Naomi could no more be taken in
proof of the one assertion than of the other. When she came to us, it
was agreed that she should go to school; but she overruled her mother
in this as in everything else, and never went. Except Sunday-school
lessons, she had no other instructions than that her mistress gave
her in the evenings, when a heavy day's play and the natural
influences of the hour conspired with original causes to render her
powerless before words of one syllable.
The first week of her services she was obedient and faithful to her
duties; but, relaxing in the atmosphere of a house which seems to
demoralize all menials, she shortly fell into disorderly ways of
lying in wait for callers out of doors, and, when people rang, of
running up the front steps and letting them in from the outside. As
the season expanded, and the fine weather became confirmed, she spent
her time in the fields, appearing at the house only when nature
importunately craved molasses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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