United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
In a few minutes she was in the kitchen and dropping down on the meal
chest as the first seat handy, she said, "Ho, Judy, is you noticed the
strange gentleman’s laugh?"
"I hain’t noticed nothing" answered Judy, who chanced to be out of sorts,
because, as she said, "the white folks had done et up every atom of egg;
they didn’t even leave her the yaller of one!"
"Well, suthin in his laugh kerried me back to the old plantation in
Carlina, and I b’lieve, between you and me, Judy, that Marster William’s
here," said Katy.
"Marster William, Marster William; what on airth do you mean?" asked Judy,
forgetting the eggs in her surprise.
At the mention of "Marster William," who was looked upon as a great man,
but a dead one, the little negroes gathered around, and one of them, our
old friend, Bobaway, said, "Oh, Laddy, I hope ’tis Marster William, for
Marster Josh’ll be so tickled that he won’t keer if we don’t do nothin’
for a week; and I needn’t milk the little heifer, nuther! Oh, good, good!"
"You go long, you Bob," said Aunt Judy, seizing a lock of his wool between
her thumb and finger, "let me catch you not milking the heifer, and I’ll
crack you."
Again there was the sound of laughter, and this time Judy dropped her
dishcloth, while Katy sprang up, saying, "’Tis, I know ’tis; any way, I’ll
walk round thar as if for a little airin’, and can see for myself."
Accordingly, old Katy appeared around the corner of the house just as Mr.
Middleton had spoken to his brother of his color. The moment Mr.
Stafford’s eye rested on his old nurse, he knew her. Twenty years had not
changed her as much as it had him. Starting up he exclaimed, "Katy, dear
old mammy Katy," while she uttered a wild, exultant cry of joy, and
springing forward threw her thin, shriveled arms around his neck,
exclaiming, "My darling boy, my sweet Marster William. I knowed ’twas you.
I knowed your voice. You are alive, I’ve seen you, and now old Katy’s
ready to die."
White as ashes grew the face of Uncle Joshua. The truth had flashed upon
him, and almost rendered him powerless. Pale and motionless he sat, until
William, freeing himself from Aunt Katy, came forward and said, "Joshua, I
am William, your brother; don’t you know me?"
Then the floodgates of Uncle Joshua’s heart seemed unlocked, and the long,
fervent embrace which followed between the rough old man and his
newly-found brother made more than one of the lookers on turn away his
face lest his companion should detect the moisture in his eyes, which
seriously threatened to assume the form of tears.
When the first joy and surprise of this unexpected meeting was over, Mr.
Joshua Middleton said, as if apologizing for his emotion, "I’m dumbly
afeard, Bill, that I acted mighty baby-like, but hang me if I could help
it. Such a day as this I never expected to see, and yet I have lain awake
o’ nights thinkin’ mebby you’d come back. But such ideas didn’t last long,
and I’d soon give you up as a goner."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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