Christian life -- Fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Domestic fiction
"I want to know something. I promised the boys and gals that when I got
free I'd speak a few words for them, and I must learn something."
So he came regularly to Louis through the winter evenings, and in a
little time he could send a readable letter to the friends down South.
Newbern was a nice place, had nice people, he told us, and he had been
well treated and permitted to learn to read, but the writing he could
not find time to master; he was skilful in figures, and Louis was very
proud of his rapid improvement.
In our meetings he gradually came to feel at home, and at last surprised
us one evening by a recital of his life, and an earnest appeal to
Christians to forget not those who looked to the star in the North as to
a light that promised them freedom and the comforts of a home. His
large, expressive eyes grew luminous with feeling, and as he stood, rapt
in his own thought, which carried him back to the old home, he seemed
like a tower of strength in our midst, and when at the close of the
meeting, as we walked behind them, he took his father's arm, I heard
Matthias say:
"John, you's done made me proud as Loosfer."
And his handsome son bowed his head as he answered:
"Thank the God who made us all to be brothers that I have the power to
tell these thoughts that rise within me. You feel just as I do, father,
only you can't express it, because they did not let you grow. The heavy
weight of slavery has held you close to the ground, and this is the
foundation of the system. The ignorance of the chattel is the life that
feeds the master's power. Like horses, if slaves knew this power, they
could break their bondage, and no hand on earth could stop them."
Among the pleasant occurrences of this summer were the picnics of the
mill children, who enjoyed two days in July and two days in August
rambling in the woods and taking dinner in the old hemlock grove, where
the trees had been so lavish of their gifts that a soft carpet of their
fallen leaves covered the ground the long year through. The coolness of
this beautiful shelter was most refreshing, and it seemed as if nature
knew just how much room was needed to spread our lunch-cloth, for there
was the nicest spot in the world right in the heart of the grove, and as
we sat around our lowly table every third or fourth person had a
splendid hemlock tree to lean against. This was a rare treat to the mill
children, and oh, the faces of the pictures we painted in these days.
Willie and Burton both had their own friends with them, and when in
conversation Louis spoke of the work of repairing the church and putting
in new pews, Burton Brown said:
"My father can do such work."
"Can you, Mr. Brown?" said Louis.
"Yes, sir," he replied; "working in lumber is my trade; change and hard
luck forced me into the mill."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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