Why, it wuz aginst all the traditions of his race and the entire
Southern Aristocracy that so slight things as a husband’s honor and
wife’s loyalty should dare oppose the lawless passions of a white
gentleman.
Of course, so reasoned Col. Seybert; the war had made a difference in
terms and enactments, but that wuz about all. The white race wuz still
unconquered in their passion and their arrogance, and the black race
wuz still under their feet; he could testify to the truth of this by
his own lawless life full of deeds of unbridled license and cruelty.
So, wantin’ Victor out of the way, and bein’ exceedingly wroth aginst
him, it wuz easy to persuade certain ignorant poor whites, and the
dispensers of what they called law, that Felix wuz altogether too
successful for a nigger.
He owned a horse, too, an almost capital offence in some parts of the
South.
He had worked overhours to buy this pet animal for Hester’s use as
well as his own. Many a hundred hard hours’ labor, when he wuz already
tired out, had he given for the purchase money of this little animal.
It wuz a pretty, cream-colored creeter, so gentle that it would come
up to the palin’ and eat little bits that Hester would carry out to
it after every meal, with little Ned toddlin’ along by her side; and
it wuz one of the baby boy’s choicest rewards for good behavior to be
lifted up by the side of the kind-faced creeter and pat the glossy skin
with his little fat hands.
This horse seemed to Felix and Hester to be endowed with an almost
human intelligence, and come next to little Ned, their only child, in
their hearts.
And Hester had herself taken in work and helped to pay for the plain
buggy in which she rode out with her boy, and carried Felix to and from
his work when he wuz employed some distance from his home.
But no matter how honestly he had earned this added comfort, no matter
how hard they had both worked for it and how they enjoyed it—
“It wuz puttin’ on too much damned style for a nigger!”
This wuz Col. Seybert’s decree, echoed by many a low, brutal, envious
mind about him, encased in black and white bodies.
And one mornin’, when Hester went out in the bright May sunshine to
carry Posy its mornin’ bit of food from the breakfast-table, with
little Ned followin’ behind with his bit of sugar for it, the pretty
creeter had jest enough strength to drag itself up to its mistress and
fix its pitiful eyes on her in helpless appeal, and dropped dead at her
feet.
They found the remains of a poisoned cake in the pasture, and on the
fence wuz pinned a placard bearin’ the inscription—
[Illustration: “LOW, BRUTAL, ENVIOUS MIND.”]
“No damned niggers can ride wile wit foaks wak afut—so good buy an’
take warnin’.”
They did not try to keep a horse after this. Felix took his long
mornin’ and evenin’ walks with a sore, indignant heart that dragged
down his tired limbs still more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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