Kentucky -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Slavery -- United States -- Fiction
Everything was put in order, the house cleaned and the cabins newly
whitewashed, to brighten the place for the daughter's return. But the
day looked dull when she came with the little child crying in the
nurse's arms. There were tears and embraces and tremulous words of love.
On the steps my Young Mistress turned to the nurse and said, "Give her
to me, Titine." And at this moment I felt that an arrow from a bow in
the sky had shot through me. Titine! I did not know that the world had
presumed to hold a beauty and a charm so exquisite. Her complexion
was as the richest cream, her hair showed the merest suggestion of
a waver rather than a negro kink, her eyes were black-blue, and her
lips--Was it Solomon who said "her lips are as a thread of scarlet"? I
was a man now, grown to full strength and passion--from the moment I
saw that French, Spanish, negro, Anglo-Saxon girl. Never before had I
seen anyone to thrill me; surely not a negress, and certainly I had not
presumed to acknowledge the charms of a white woman. I did not fall at
once in love with Titine; I was too excited, too breathless as I gazed
upon her. I reminded myself of an animal, beholding for the first time
a female of his own species--and I verily believe that I felt a desire
to throw my head up and scream like a panther.
"Dan," Old Miss cried, "why don't you bring in the things? What do you
want to stand there for like a chicken with the gapes?"
In this comparison there was something so appropriate that I could not
suppress a laugh, though I took care to hide it from Old Miss. Miss May
turned to the girl and told her to help me bring in the bags, but Old
Miss objected. "Let her rest, May," she said. "Dan hasn't been doing a
thing. He's pretty much as you left him--scarcely worth his salt."
This was a fine recommendation to Titine, and I felt the blood mount
to my face, as I turned toward the carriage at the gate. But I glanced
back and saw the girl following me with her eyes; and I wondered,
selfishly enough, why she had not insisted upon helping me, though I
needed no assistance, for I was strong enough at that moment to seize
all the bags at once and hurl them over the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account