"Why, Massa Tom," Sam said, when he had complied with the request,
"you didn't think dat dis chile was going to stop prisoner with dose
French chaps; Sam not such a fool as dat, nohow. When dat cussed
mule--I tell you fair, Massa Tom, dis chile conclude dat riding not
such a berry easy ting after all--when dat cussed mule ran into French
camp, de soldiers dey catch him, and dey take Sam off, and den dey
jabber and laugh for all de world like great lots of monkeys. Well,
for some time Sam he didn't say nothing, all de wind shook out of his
body. Besides which he couldn't understand what dey say. Den all of
a sudden, to Sam's surprise, up came a colored soldier, and he speak
to Sam in de English tongue. 'Holla, broder, how you come here?" I
ask. 'I been cook on board English merchant ship,' he say. 'Ship she
taken by French privateer. When dey come to port dey say to me, "You
not Englishman, you hab choice, you go to prison, or you be French
soldier." Natural, I not want go prison, so I conclude be French
soldier. I daresay dey gib you choice too.' Well, massa, a wink as
good as a nod to blind hoss. So dey take me to tent, put me under
guard, and next day a French officer come dat speak English. He ask
me all sorts ob questions, and at last he ask me why I list English
soldier. So you see I had got a little lie all ready, and me tell him,
me one poor Melican negro man, cook on board Melican ship. Ship taken
by English man-ob-war. Put Sam in prison and give him choice to go as
soldier. "Den you not care about English,' de officer say, and Sam
draw hisself up and pat his chest and say, 'Me Melican citizen, me no
Britisher's slave, some day me go back States, go on board Melican
man-ob-war, me pay out dese Britishers for make Sam slave.' Den de
officer laugh, and say dat if I like I could fight dem now; and if I
prefer French uniform to French prison, me could have him. Ob course
I accep' offer, and harp an hour after me in French uniform. French
officer try to make joke ob Sam, and ask whether I like cavalry or
foot soldier. Sam say he had enuff of quadruples at present. Me remain
French soldier three weeks, den cum great battle, dey call him Fuentes
donory. Sam's regiment fight. Sam not like fire at red coats, so break
bullet off catridge, neber put him in gun. We charge right into middle
of village full of English soldiers, de bullets fly all about. Sam not
see de point ob getting kill by mistake, so he tumble down, pretend to
be dead. Presently French beaten back; when English soldier wid doctor
cum look at wounded, dey turn Sam ober, and dey say, 'Hullo, here dead
nigger.' 'Nigger yourself, John Atkins,' I say for sure enuff it's de
ole regiment--'you say dat once again me knock your head off;' me jump
up, and all de world call out, 'Hullo, why it's Sam.' Den me splain
matter, and all berry glad, cept John Atkins, and next morning me gib
him licking he member all his life, me pound him most to a squash.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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