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Las disgrammas suivants illuatrsnt la mMhoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICHOCOTY RESOLUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 IS"- I 25 12.2 1,1 1*^ m """' 1.8 !:25 III 1.4 mil 1.6 _^ APPLIED ItVMGE In ^g*. 1653 East Main Street irJS Rochester. New York 14609 USA '.^S (716) «a2 - 0300 - Phor>e ^^ (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox V // ' » ■ 1 / lCi / / Ilii ■in; I The Story of Quamin A Tale of the Tropics May Harvey Drummond ^J^ G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS NEW YORK AND LONDON Obe *n{cftctbocliet pteee 1911 1 11 Copyright, 191X BY MAY HARVEY DRUMMOND Vbt ttntckerlwclter pu$§, l^ew Vork So MV DEAR SON BARCLAY DRUMMOND " -"■'!' ""1" '' ^ "">' " ■>' ™ver dere. Plamteeofweedlym.Vryw'ere But work aroun- or your life is gone An tak' some chance or you won't get on For , you don't feesh w'ere de weed is grow You -11 only ketch leetle small wan or so '■ PREFACE |T has been deemed necessary to add to this ' httle volume a preface setting forth the Pomt of view and intent with which it was wntten, explaining unfamiHar aUusions and answenng beforehand questions as to faTth- s^^Tn^L'^^r-^"^'^"^^^^^-- onlv tot? ""''''' '^''' "^^'o-^-i only to the more advanced negro of the Southern United States. eth,cal stafstics nught be compounded, but ?Je ^T'/o"* " *°^""^^ didactic, and the t.1r '{ ^"'"*"'' '^ "° ^■^'^^ -» than ^e telhng o a story and the occupation of an "die hour It was begun merely for per^n^ amusement the id^ being to sketch. Laiti^ thought of preserving the folk-lore of Jamaica (vj Preface becoming interwoven with this, an endeavour was made to portray the childlike and fanci- ful imagination of the negro as we find him in the country parts of the island before the hand of civilisation has fallen too heavily upon him. It is true that this type is passing and in this fact lies an excuse for wishing to pre- serve some record of it, though no claim is here made of having sounded the depths or climbed to the heights of the negro nature. Every country, every people have a folk- lore more or less foimded on andient super- stitions, and the blacks of Jamaica, as well as those of the other West Indian Islands, still believe to a very large extent in the super- natural, and obeahism is a power which has a tremendous influence for evil upon its devotees. The term obeah is derived from "Obi," a word used on the East Coast of Africa to denote witchcraft, sorcery, and fetishism in general. The etymology of Obi has been [vi] Preface traced to a very antique source stretching back mto Egyptian mythology; a serpent in the Egyptian language was called "Ob " and "Obion" is still the Egyptian name for that reptile. Moses, in the name of God, forbade the Israelites ever to inquire of the demon Ob, which is translated in our Bible Charmer." "Wizard," or "Sorcerer." The Witch of Endor is called " Ob, " and " Oubois " was the name of the basilisk or royal serpent, emblem of the sun. and an ancient oracular deity of Africa. Obeahism in the form of serpent worship has been practised in Guinea and on the Congo for thousands of years, and from these locahties it was introduced by African slaves mto the whole of the West Indian Islands Of late years with the progress of education among the negroes, they have become a little ashamed of their belief in obeahism, but still chng in secret to the mysteries that long generations have almost made part of their mstmctive being, and any one with the IviiJ Preface reputation of working obeah is looked on by all with the greatest fear and treated with the utmost deference. Before emancipation, however, the prac- tice of obeah was rampant in all the West Indian Islands, and ordinances had to be framed to put down and combat its baneful influence. There were fe'^ of the large estates having African slaves which had not one or two obeahmen among their number; they were usually the oldest and most crafty of the blacks, those whose hoary heads and forbid- ding aspect, together with some skill in plants of the medicinal and poisonous species, quali- fied them for successful imposition on the weak and nedulous. At the present time an obeahman would be hard to distinguish from other blacks, and his trade might be inferred only from the fact of his possessing a good substantial house built out of the money obtained from his confid- ing countrymen and women, money given in exchange for love spells or poisonous philtres, [viii] The trade which these impostors carry on is extremely lucrative, and a negro will not hesitate to give an obeahman his last doUar for a love speU. when he would grudge a shilling for legitimate medicine to relieve a painful sickness. The temple of the obeahman is generaUy in a secluded soot, the time selected for his incantations the midnight hour, and the charm used a strange mixture of heterogeneous matter, such as t-gg sheUs, fowls' feet, fish bones, the teeth of dogs and cats, alligators, sharks, lizards, etc.; and, strange though it may seem, r any of these obeahmen are regular church members in good standing, showing what complex, contradictory ideas' the negro often possesses. When obeah is set for a suspected thief, the magic charm is usually placed at his door c . in some place where he is accustomed to walk; the tale of what has been done gener- aUy reaches his ears through ihe medium of a neighbour; the culprit can no longer rest, [«] Preface the first pain he feels is an intimation that the work of retribution has begun, every symptom is magnified, and not infrequently he will pine away under the influence of an uneasy conscience until he openly acknow- ledges his sin to the wizard and receives an antidote. If the charm of the sorcerer were confined to such purposes as just described, not much harm would result; but frequently the evil science is put to less innocent uses, the his- tory of the West Indies abounding in cases of actual murder committed by these man- witches; and as the poisonous p ants used in these cases leave little or no trace behind them, it is often very diflScult to find evidence sufficient to convict the murderer. The de- luded negro who thoroughly believes in the supernatural powers of the obeahmen screen them as much as possible, and the bravest tremble at the very sight of the ragged bundle, the egg shells or obeah bottle stuck in the branches of a plantain tree. W The spirits of the departed are known as Duppies," and as there is no civil law for- bidding belief in these ma, ifestations. the su- peremion is wiaespread : ad openly expressed. Three days after death and fortunately for three mghts only, the deceased is supposed to nse from his burial-place and visit his most intimate friends and near relation,; during this penod not a single relative of the dead nan will dare to ventvre near the place of uitennent or walk abroad without a lantern and, if possible, the society of a dog. Many curious customs concerning death and burial are still in vogue, as for instance the leave-taking of Father Dreckett's family The first night after death, the corpse is left alone ^-ith two lamps burning beside it, and these lamps are kept alight in the same room for mne nights after. Food is left on the grave of the newly buried so that the spirit may not hunger when it rises on the third day after burial, at which time it is said to sit on a stone or log near the grave Preface and say in tones of wonder, "Wat! you mean to say it is here dem come put me?" after which it returns to the house it inhabited during Ufe and looks over all its belongings. Wakes, s' lilar to those of Ireland, ore customary, a.. 1 frequently on such occasions "Jamaica rum" flows all too freely, and day dawns on a scene changed from an orderly meeting of psalm-singers and loud-voiced mourners to a drunken riot, and the local doctor, coming down to his early morning coflEee, finds on his front verandah one or two mutilated patients of either sex. If a person who has before been in good health and robust should suddenly lose weight arJ strength, the change would im- mediate!/ be attributed to the influence of a " haunt" or " Duppy " evilly disposed towards the person in question, and the services of a "Duppy Catcher" at once engaged, w?ien a change for the better soon becomes visible in the patient. Another outcome of African superstition is the Roaring Calf, a much dreaded super- natural visitant, supposed to be the spirit of the wicked dead, and usually appearing in the form of a large black calf, which prowls about at night, dragging after it a heavy chain This creature can be induced by offerings of rum nee, and white cocks to work untold mischief on the enemies of its votary, assum- mg. m order to do so. any form that may best smt its evil ends. The breatn of this monster is believed to be very poisonous and can contaminate the food of whole families, turning every edible le they touch to decay and so causing i. -vation and death. Like all ev:: things, the Roaring Calf fears hght or fire, and a brandished firestick will fnghten away the boldest of them. The Wood Horse is another of these super- natural animals and approximates closely to his cousin the Roaring Calf, with the excep- tion that he inhabits only dense woods and thickets. [xiii] Preface The amusements which enliven the life of the Jamaican negroes are very much the same as those in vogue among American negroes, bat the Cake Walk is as yet unknown. Singing and dancing are the chief sources of enjoyment, and the Jamaican negro will bet hij last sixpence on a horse race. Story-telUng is a favourite pastime with both sexes and all ages and Anancy tales, are the most popular. Anancy stories are African in origin, modified by environment, and partake in character of the style of the well- known Uncle Remus stories. No intelligent argument has ever been brought f rward as to the reason of the folk- tales of the Jamaican negro being called " Anancy stories. " Anancy is a word pre- sumably of African origin, and is the name given by the negroes to a filmy ghost-like spider, grey in colour, with diminutive body and immense long legs, perfectly harmless and not much in the way, dwelling as it always does at the tops of houses or trees. Nor is it Wv] ■',i Preface easy to understand why this innocent crea- ture should be chosen to represent the ruth- less, bloodthirsty gnome, cruel father and husband, faithless friend and pitUess foe. for 'Bra* Anancy" is a veritable Shylock, always seeking to gain a mean advantage and almost always succeeding, his greed being out of all proportion to his emaciated frame, while his long legs are none too long for his many hairbreadth escapes from richly merited pun- ishment. He is the "Brer Rabbit" of Uncle Remus and the GobKn of Western Africa, but shorn of all redeeming points which are occa- sionally to be found in the other two characters Anancy's wife is called "Crookie," aname which might have been more suitably applied to her husband, and takes the place of all dutiful wives in African ethics, many degrees below that of her fascinating husband, who is at hberty to make love to as many others as he chooses, and in hard times lives on the in of the land, while Crookie and the children may starve for all he cares. Ixv] Preface ! ?! I i .4 i ! The children are frequently mentioned as victims of their father's cruelty, but other- wise, with one exception, play no important part in the weird elfin drama. The one exception is Taccooma, the eldest son and a st.iking proof of the powers of heredity, being ahnost the counterpart of his father, ■.-■rAy a little less resourceful, and many are the tour- neys of wit and cunning between father and son. In these stories stray words occur the meaning of which the negroes themselves are at a loss to explain, such, for instance, as "Bohimbo," and it seems most probable that these are African words the sounds of which the younger generation have caught and retained while the sense was buried with their grandparents. We never hear of the death of Anancy for even the King of Terrors is not equal to his craft, and we are told that when Anancy visits him in his mountain lair and sets fire to his beard by means of plantain leaves tied Uvi] to a long pole and lighted, he chases the mxschief-loving elf to his house only to find h.s prey with the entire family cUng^'ng to the rafters and quite out of reach. Death announces his intention of waiting till they grow tired of holding on. when they must faU into his hands, and Anaa.y's busy brain sets to work to plan a method of escape. One by one the mother and children faU and are devoured, tiU the father alone is left; then he calls to Death, asking him to roU the flour barrel underneath him for he can hold on no longer and if he were to faU on the hard ground he would be smashed to pieces, in which case Death, would lose a choice morsel. Death does this, and Anancy, descending with as much force as he can muster, drops into the flour sending up such a cloud that Death is blinded for the moment and his victim makes good his escape. " So it was that Death first ^ved m the bush until Anancy brought him to the house" and thereby earned the ever- lasting grudge of the West Indian negro. Ixvii] it^ Preface These stories are dying out, being forgot- ten and vanishing with the faithful old Nanas who never heard the names of Mother Goose or Hans Christian Andersen, but after dark (for these stories must not be told in the day- time) would keep the children committed to their charge hushed and still with the recital of the doings of "Bra' Anancy." The Jamaican negro like his brother of the United States, is skilled in tasty cookery, requiring but little material out of which to produce a palatable dish. Duckanoes, such as Nana Dreckett made for Quamin, are a sort of pudding made of com meal, new sugar, and spices and boiled in a wrapping of plan- tain leaves, and a good hot duckanoe, just out of the pot and still smoking, is the delight of all West Indian children be they black, white, or coloured. Pones are also much relished, and nutritious vegetable soups, such as pepper pot, red pease soup, etc., form the principal diet of these negroes who are almost vegetarians. Ixviii] ;r f As a rule, the Jamaican negroes are much better behaved than their brethren of the Umted States, and outrages such as lynching and burning at the stake are unheard of in Jamaica, for the reason that the crimes lead- ing to these methods of punishment never occur in the British West Indies; in fact the negroes of these islands know that British law recognises no difference between the Governor himself and the humblest black man. and this knowledge makes them not only law-abiding citizens, but loyal subjects of the British Crown. May Harvey Drummond. Lennoxville, November, 1910. [xixj Contents Preface The Story of Quamin CHAnn I— The Choice of a Name. II— The Christening . Ill— Nine Years After IV— QuAMiN Goes to Work V-CONCERNING THE BREAKING OF Mules VI— Obeah VII— The Roaring Calf VIII— Gossip IX— School Days X— The Passing Dreckett XI— The Funeral XII— The Pill Box XIII— Negril Again M OF Father • ill fACE I i8 i' 40 48 56 67 89 99 116 157 '39 148 Contents CRAPTEK XIV— Nana Gives up Hope and thi Parson . XV— The Bay . FACI '. ■59 '75 XVI— The Shop Changes Hands 198 XVII— The Exile . ai9 XVIII— The Return . 33^ Other Tales f Mary and Martha . 331 Forbidden Fruit 253 Methuselah's Courtship ' . 268 " BusHA " Chicken • . . 385 How Puss Come to Ketch Rat . • 303 Anancy and Tiger .... y>5 ! Anancy and Dog • 309 K Anancy and his Family . j«» ^H ■ Reprinted from Short Stories. Ml * Reprinted from Short Stories, MH The Story of Quamin The Story of Quamin The Choice of a Name XHE dawn had scarcely come when Nana * Dreckett stepped out of the door of her cottage with a little squirming bundle in ner arms. "E'e pick'ney lively as any dog-flea!" she muttered as she walked briskly across the in- tervemng ground and into the small thatched hut scarcely more than a shed, which was her knchen. Here, on a bundle of corn-trash >rt a safe comer, she deposited the baby, who Ztfl Tu" ^''^''''^'^ '° hi« impromptu' bed st..ffed h.s little black fist into his mouth while h,s bead-like eyes followed tne old woman s every movement. Nana Dreckett proceeded to build a small fire of wood on the earthen floor, and blow The Story of Quamin it to a brisk blaze with the powerful bellows of her own lungs, then she put on the water for her old man's coffee, set his mug and spoon upon the table, and once more turned her attention to the baby. "Come here, Quamin, meek me wash you face. I doan has a drop of milk to give you dis mamin', but w'en water boil I will meek little flour pap for you, you hear? An' so you favour [resemble] you ma too! Me poor pick'ney." The old woman heaved a deep sigh to the memory of her only child who had died when Quamin was bom, leaving the baby to his grandmother's care; then, with a calabash dipping up some water out of a kerosene tin, she sat down on the door-step and washed his face and hands with the corner of an old towel. By the time this scanty toilet was com- pleted, the water on the fire was boiling, so Quamin was returned to his lowly couch in the comer and the coffee quickly made. Just as it was ready, in hobbled Father l2l toJ:is wife he said souriyf ^"™"^ W'at I want to ask v™, ,-« able-bodUa^ ' "°" "^'"^^ '^^ -3^ hefr\°''''''" ^"^^<^ « scornful look at up the baby and carried him off to th^ house ^uroVb^'""^""^^''^'^^-*-^^^^^ dJ::''-'' ^"'^ ^'- °^ cold roasted' l3l The Story of Quamin It was soon after this that the grandmother made up her mind that it was tim^ l j christen Quamin; the only trouble was what to call him, his present name being only a temporary affair, indicating the day of the week on which he was born: namely, Saturday. Not far from her house, quarter of a mile perhaps, lived Cousin 'Lizbet', a woman of about the same age and, by repute, a prophet- ess and seer. To her went Nana for advice. "Teck de Bible," said Cousin 'Lizbet', "den kneel down an' ^.i-ay de Lard to give you a right choice, den open de Book an' de firs' name dat meet you eye — dat same is de approve' of de Lard." Nana Dreckett thought this was a grand idea and lost no time in acting upon it. Kneel- ing beside her bed she prayed, "Lard sen' me a name for de baby, not coiumon, like John or Joseph, but somet'ing none of dem toder one got. " Then she arose, and opening her tattered old Bible, glanced fearfully at its pages — Daniel — this was a disappointment for there was already a Daniel in the cc n- mumty, so she ran her eye down the p. ,-. until ,t was arrested by Belteshazzar-then joy shone in the old woman's face. "Dat 's deberyfing," she said. "Belteshazzar is a lovely name, an' Daniel Belteshazzar I never hear before. Daniel was anoint of de Lard an go up to Heaven in a chariot of fire, an' Bdteshazzar was King of de Jews, so Quamin you got a superior name, me boy, an' you musnt bawl w'en parson put de water 'pon you face to wash away you sin. " She made haste to visit Cousin 'Lizbef and ...part her success, but the prophetess, who had seen her coming, was at the gate before her cottage and as soon as Nana Dreckett was within earshot calleu out, _ Rachel baby born twelve o'clock to-day. " Nebber!" exclaimed the visitor taken aback. "Whatshegot-boyorgal?" ^ JGal, an' fat as butter too. Come go see The hospitable invitation was eagerly [5] The Story of Quamin accepted, for though babies were by no means a scarce commodity in that community, and came and went according to nature, yet a birth or a funeral was enough to cause some excitement where nothing better offered, and for a time at least, Quamin's name and christ- ening were forgotten. Not for long, how- ever, and when Rachel's baby had been inspected and admired, Nana remembering her mission turned to 'Lizbet' and said: "Aha! Cousin, de news 'bout Rachel meek me mos' forget to tell you 'bout de name I fin' for Quamin. Him goin' to call say, Daniel Belteshazzar. " "A powerful name for true, Nana; you do well to take me advice. Rachel pick'ney goin' to name, Ruth Deborah. How you like dat?" "Firs' rate, me frien*; you is de dickens to fin' name for pick'ney. You 'member de shucks [snub] parson give Margaret Fuller w'en she would n't teck you advice?" "I mos' forget 'bout it now — how it go [6] agen?" inquiped Cousin 'Lizbef thought- '; Yc i tell Margaret say : ,c mus' call de boy Isaiah, an she dat uppish she suck her teet' pon you an' say she able to name her own baby w^douten you; den w'en she go to get de cble chnsten- an' de parson ax her de name, she answer say, 'Be'lzebub Jehosha- Phat, an parson say him earn caU pick'ney Belzebub.forBe'kebuban-dedebbilisone an de same fing. only dedebbil got tail an- horn an Mm foot meek like cow hoof, an- Belzebub meek jus' like plain man. So parson g,ve de baby name Matt'ew Jehosha- Phat, an Margaret was dat shame she never say a word." Cousin 'Lizbet' nodded her head weU pleased. Shehadnotreallyforgotten the inci- dent but pretended to have done so that she might have the pleasure of hearing it recited. An. Cousin," continued Nana, "some time w en you got de spirit, I beg you dream pon Quamin an' tell me w'at you see?" 17] i The Story of Quamin "All right, Nana, I will do dat— but w'en is de chri.'itenin'?" "Nex' week Sunday; Parson Blackgrove comin' to preach at de meetin' house dat day an' I goin' ask him to baptise de baby. I goin' start 'pen de cake to-marra ; look here. Cousin, I pay whole of two shillin' an' six- pence for salt butter for it, an' ole Missis give me all de raisin an' currant an' even to de amman dat lefifen ovo^r w'en Miss Nellie weddin' cake meek. She give me a bottle of ginger wine too, to drink de baby healt', an' you would n' believe de tribulation I into to keep de ole man mout' from dat bottle neck. Lard ha' massey! Sence de day I got colic an' him see me teck a tase — jus' 'nough to warm me inside, him doan finish twis' an* groan himself like him goin' dead of cholera. But him can twis' an' groan, him will nebber tase a drop till de day Quamin christen." Nana Dreckett tightened with vigoiu' the cord around her waist which sjrved to [8] The Choice of a Name shorten her skirts and keep them from the damp grass. Her contemptuous regard for her husband was a source of amusement to her neighbours, and now Cousin Xizbef could not restrain a laugh, broad and hearty as the negro laugh always is. "Day-day," said her visitor shortly, just a httle offended at the other's want of sym- pathy, and her shortened skirts went swaying down the path. "Day-day, Nana," returned Cousin 'Liz- bet . still laughing a little. She waited till the other was quite out of sight and then, the short West Indian twilight having begun went in to light the lamp for Rachel and see' to the baby's wants. It was dusk when Nana Dreckett reached the door of her own hut and Quamin, whom she had left asleep, had just opened his eyes and begun to cry for something to eat. Pick- ing up the baby in one hand and a smaU kerosene lamp in the other, she made her way to the kitchen where Father Dreckett sat m 'I The Story of Quamin smoking as usual, while the pot of red pcjise soup bubbled away on the fire. Putting the lamp on the table but keeping the baby in her anns, she returned to the house for two basins and spoons wherewith to eat the soup, also a small china mug, gaily flowered, for Quamin's use. Into the latter she crumbled a small piece of bread, then added a spoonful of new sugar, and returned to the kitchen. Placing Quamin upon his bed of corn-trash, she took from the fire a tin pail of hot water a little of which completed the preparations for Daniel Belteshazzar's supper which he lost no time in swallowing, thus leaving his grandmother free to look to the wants of her husband. The two bowls were filled with nourishing soup and Nana placed one bowl before the old man, then drawing up a chair to the table, sat herself down before the other. After taking a few spoonfuls, she paused to watch Father Dreckett who seemed to be having no little difficulty in manipulating his spoon. [10] The Choice of a Name Looking up suddenly as though conscious of bcng watched, he caught his wife's eyes fixed on him and the spoon fell to the table wble the two stared at each other, she with ever deepening suspicion, he like some wild animal at bay. She broke the silence. But w'at do you, Fader Dreckctt?" she asked sharply. "Nofin- doan do me, an' I want to ax you wat meek you watchin' me like puss watch mauger Johnson? Dat 's 'nough to ac pon anybody constitution an' meek dem han tnmble. Keep you ole she-puss eye to you'selfan'lef'mealone." His retort at an end, the old man made another heroic attempt to wTestle with his spoon, while his wife finished her repast in science, then she left him and went again to the house and to the little wooden bed wUch stood in a corner of their bedroom. She slipped her hand into a hole in the straw mattress and brought to light a rusty key wit. which she opened a trunk, taking from ["J B'l The Story of Quamin it a black bottle. Holding it carefully to the light, she saw that it wanted only the little she herself had taken and her fears subsided, but as she continued to gaze lov- ingly at her treasure, a certain change in the colour of its contents made her examine the cork carefully. Yes! sure enough, the bottle had been opened since she had opened it. Trembling, she dived once more into the trunk and this time brought to light a corkscrew — a bran new one which she had bought to use at the christening. Hastily drawing the cork, she put the mouth of the bottle to her lips and one taste was enough to confirm her worst fears — the wine had been watered and was good for nothing, and all her plans for bringing luck to her grandchild were overthrown. Tears of disappointment welled up in her dark eyes but rage would not let them fall; swiftly she shut and locked the trunk, hiding the key in her bosom this time, and taking I12I The Cho ice of a Name the bottle with her, rushed out into the storm wh ,h had suddenly darkened the sky. Great drops of rain were falling, but Nana Dreckett heeded them not; in her own I eart a far worse hurricane raged and the lightning of vengeance flashed from her eyes. Father Dreckett heard her coming, and picking up the baby, pretended to fondle it just as her swaying skirts flashed in at the door. "You ole debbil! give me dat chile; doan you dare touch him, you ole t'ief you!" She snatched the child from his arms, and Quamin, not used to such rough treatment, began to cry, but his grandmother for once did not heed him and went on berating her husband, her voice growing louder and m..re shrill as her excitement grew. "I never tase you wine, may lightnin' strike me dead if I do," he protested feebly, but his wife brushed aside his words as though they were cobwebs. " You ole liar! Spoiler of de faderless an" [13] The Story of Quamin I widder! May de Lard do wid you as him do wid Sophia an' Ananias an' strike you dead wid de lie red-hot 'pon you tongue. " A blinding flash filled the kitchen with light, and the roar of the thunder as it dashed against the surrounding hills mingled with the mocking laughter of the old woman whose excitement had reached the point of frenzy. She stood with outstretched hand, pointing to her husband who, terrified and thi. :.ing that his wifi's prayer had been heard, was or. his knees imploring mercy. "If I did teck de ginger wine, it was she temp' me," he pleaded, not knowing, in his ignorance, that he voiced the excuse of his sex from the world's beginning. "Ah! so you 'blige to own you teck it, eh? Well de debbil comin' for you dis minit. See! see!" she cried wildly, pointing to one corner of the kitchen where a wreath of blue smoke hovered, and a tiny flame-coloured tongue licked the thatching of the roof; "him comin' wid him fire buggy to teck you to [14] "^^g Choice of a Na me nStr ' ' ''"'• '"'•' "^^ ^-^ ^ With the shriek of a lost soul. Father Dreckett fell on his face and lay there kick- ing and screaming till some one coming sud- denly m at the door grasped him finnly round the wa.st and turned him on his back, while his k.cks and screams grew more violent, f he knew that now indeed his doom had over- taken him. ." ^'""^ ""^ ^"'ne cole water, Nana, " said the qmet voice of Cousin 'Li.bef. "him got Nana obeyed; and as if her desire for van- goance was satisfied and the tension at her heart loosened, she suddenly sat down on a deal box and broke into hearty laughter be de debb,l, an' him mos' frighten to deaf. " By th:s time Father Dreckett had realised ^s mistake and was sitting up. the water strcammg down his face, for Cousin 'Lizbet' had been generous, staring round the kitchen Us] The Story of Quamin as if not quite certain that his Satanic Ma- jesty did not lurk in some dark corner. Re- assured by the survey, he got up and looked about for his hat and little clay pipe, which in his struggles had been detached from his person, an event which happened seldom. Finding them, he retreated to his own particu- lar corner and sat down while his wife told the whole story to the visitor. "An' dc bes' of it all. Cousin," added Nana when the talc was finished, "him tell de Lard say is me temp' him. " "Yes! is do you temp' me," came from the comer which harboured the old man. "Wasn' it you tell me say, St. Paul say, *Teck a little wine for de belly ache'? An' I did got a dickens of a colic dis afternoon. " "Well, me frien', you better not t'ief wine w'en you sick agen, or de debbil won't miss you dat time. Red lavender an' peppermint is de bes' t'ing for colic, an' any time you go ask him Big Missis will give you some, so no need to t'ief an' call down de wrat' of de [16] Lard pon you-self an' you house." said Cousm L:sbetMookIng up at the roof which, thanks to the heavy rain, had been only slightly scorched. Father Dreckett made no answer but went on pulling away at the pipe which he had forgotten to light, and the prophetess turned to give Nana the latest news of Ruth Deborah, and while away the time till the ra:n should cease. As she rose to go,' and passed by the table on wbch the diluted wine still stood, she quickly took it and, hiding it i„ the ample folds of her skirts, went 0"t v ; , A^^rved When Father Dreck.f - .eo'vered sufficiently to notice anything, he remembered the wine and seeing that it no longer stood upon the table and fearing that the devil had been at work once more, left the kitchen quickly and went to bed; not to his accus. tomed place in the little fourposter. however, but to a comer of the second room or hall where some empty com bags were lying. ' I17J II :| i iji II: The Christening N TANA would have concealed the loss of •l ^ the wine from its donor, but in its jour- ney around the black population of the dis- trict, the story had come to the ears of little black Mimba, daughter of the cook at the Great House, whose duty it was to cut up cocoa-head for the poultry, and chase mis- guided chickens out of the garden. Now Mimba was only a woman in embryo, and on the morning of the christening, when Big Missis called her into the buttery to hunt behind the piled-up rows of bottles for a dead rat whose presence had been made manifest by the odour, the bottles recalled the story to the mind of the little girl, and her lips yielded to temptation. Big Missis laughed heartily at the incident (18) The Christening and the child's quaint way cf teUing it. then selecting another bottle of the same wine she gave it to Mimba with injunctions to hurry as fast as she could to Nana Drecketfs house and be careful not to faU. Mimba needed no second " bidding but darted down the hill and was soon at her destination, panting and happy. . "Mamin', Nana Dreckett," she said, drop- ping a rapid curtsey. "Big Missis sen' me wid dis for you, mam," she continued, pre- senting her mistress' gift to the old woman Nana's delight knew no bounds. "Now praise de Lard an' Big Missis for she have a big heart! Now Quamin luck won't be teckn from him an' me gran'chile heait' gom to drink wid wine de same as white baby. But, Mimba, how Big Missis know bout de misfortune wid de firs' bottle?" "I doan know, mam," innocently replied the httle girl with her finger in her mouth. 'You can go into de house an' look 'pon de table; but doan touch not'ing." I19J f^ The Story of Quamin 1 13 li 'I Now Mimba, in common with all the neighbourhood, stood in wholesome awe of Nana Dreckett and though her little soul yearned to pinch off a tiny crumb from the big christening cake which stood so invitingly on the table, she felt obliged to content her- self with wetting her finger in her mouth and running it round the cake then licking it to get the sweet taste of the icing, after which she left in a hurry, not feeling herself proof against further temptation. The night before. Father Dreckett had in some measure restored himself to his former rather doubtful position in his wife's good graces by bringing from the "ground" a bountiful supply of provisions: yams, cocoas, plantains, chotas, and bread-fruit. Then, that morning before dawn, he had killed and scraped the little roasting pig and plucked much poultry, all of which must be cooked tor the christening breakfast. When the chickens were trussed and the little pig in the roast pan, his legs stuck [20] The Ch ristening jauntily into his sides as though they were pockets, a shining green lin,e between h teeth, an old. half-witted woman was left in tti;;r^"^"^-^^— -dress Quamin. the hero of it all. was crawling about the path between house and kitchen in happy unconsciousness, so she passed him by firlt. ""'''"* ^'^ '°°^ ^^'^'' ^'''^^'^ The little fringe of white wool at the back of h,s head was relentlessly combed out, the brown wnnkles of his throat hidden by a stiff collar. h>s gnarled old feet. wWch knew no comfort save in the old carpet slippers orced mto the new boots withThe "squTk father " and his toilet completed bya'shiny oJack frock coat, and crowned with a beaver hat both of wh.-ch had served "Big Massa" at funeral and wedding for many a year and were of the style of half a century ago' Nows.tdownan'doan™mpleupyouif tUl I put on me own clothes." said the wife The Story of Quamin as she dismissed her better half. Her own costume was simple enough, being a good old fashioned lavender print, carrying an unlimited allowance of starr^i. On her head she wore a bright bandanna handkerchief surmounted by a small, untrimmed sailor hat. Quamin was her next consideration and on him she bestowed the utmost care. His long christening robe was snowy white and low at the neck, where a string of rej coral beads showed brightly agwust the soft little black throat. On his feet she put a pair of pink knitted bootees, the glory of which was only for the curious, being completely hidden by the flowing lawn robe. The dressing accomplished, the old woman laid the crowing baby on her lap and looked long and lovingly at him, while a few tears rolled down her cheeks and fell on his. "Oh! Quamin, Quamin," she murmured, "if you poor moder could only see you now. An' maybe Massa up a' top openin' de door of Heaven dis minit so she can look down ("I The Christening •pon her baby an' know dat him goin' to be baptise* an' consecrate to de Lard dis day She wiU know to. dat you Grannie good to you, praise de Lard!" Nana Dreckett rose with a sigh and taking a last look at the table, started with Quamin and Father Dreckett for the church. Nana's brother Constantine and the grand- mother herself undertook to make the neces- sary promises for Quamin who conducted himself like a man, gazing up at the ebony face of Parson Blackgrove with eyes full of wonder and questioning but without fear, and taking the Uberal sprinkling of water without a sound of protest. The ceremony over, Nana and the parson led the way back to the house and were fol- lowed by the guests, all gaily dressed in Sun- day garments, chattering and happy at the thought of the feast that awaited them. Handing the baby to Cousin 'Lizbef who had come with Ruth Deborah and Rachel the hostess retired to the kitchen where, with 123] The Story of Quamin the help of old Mary, the assistant cook, she soon had the viands properly dished and laid on the table, at one end of which she took her seat, at the same time motioning the parson to the other end. Father Dreckett, left to find a place for himself, was not long in choosing, and quietly placed himself on the right of his wife where stood the new bottle of wine; but Nana, unwilling to run any further risks, quietly removed her treasure to her left, a place of safety where sat Cousin 'Lizbet'. A smothered giggle rippled round the table at which Father Dreckett scowled, and the parson, to create a diversion, hurriedly asked a blessing, after which the company fell to, making promiscuous use of fingers and forks and short work of the food. When pig and poultry were demolished, the big christening cake was cut and the wine uncorked. Nana Dreckett made the rounds of the table, bottle in hand, dividing its contents without discrimination among her [24l The Christening guests, but completely ignoring her husband, an omission which was not lost on the com- pany whose ill-concealed mirth was inter- rupted by the hostess' demand that the baby be brought to her. With the child in her arms, she rose with dignity and said. "Parson Blackgrove, I mus' ask you, sah, to meek de toas' for de pick'ney healt'. " "Wid greates' of pleasure, mam," replied the parson with alacrity, but keeping his seat; this nettled Nana somewhat, and before he had time to speak again, she continued: "Ladies an* gentleman, please to get up. Seems like you doan know de ways of quality but jes' behavin' like ignorant niggers." In days gone by the old woman had been witness of many a gay wedding and christen- ing at the Great House and knew just how such things should be conducted, therefore her guests did not resent her plain speaking but rose in a body, each one with his or her glass of wine, not excepting Father Dreckett The Story of Quamin who, having nothing better, contented himself with a glass of water. "Ladies and gentleman," said Parson Blackgrove, now on his feet, "dis is an occa- sion of great glory to dis family .-'en de firs' bom of it -' ' " Lard ! Parson, " interrupted a saucy young girl, "is doan de firs' bom, sah." "De firs' born gran'ckile," continued the parson without noticing the interruption, except by the emphasis which he put upon the last words, "have been received into de fold of de Lamb. He have been washed in de blood of de Lamb an' am w'ite as de snow on de mountain top." Here all eyes were hastily turned on Qua- min in whose colour, however, no change was as yet visible. "May de Lard bless him an' may he t'rive like Abraham, Isaac, an' Jacob, an' may his seed increase to de encumberance of de Ian'." Here the discourse was cut short by an [26] The Christening exclamation from Nana Drcckett who until now had been ignorant of her husband's intention to drink the baby's health in water. "My God! man, is you dat simple dat you doan know say, drink dem healt' in water, de somebody goin' drown?" "I doan care," returned he doggedly, "I goii • to drink me own gran'-pick'ney healt" dis day, an' if I doan has wine, I goin' teck water. " Nana wavered between two evils, but seeing determination in her husband's atti- tude, wisely chose the lesser and poured a few grudging drops from the precious bottle into another glass and handing it to him said, resignedly. "Better wase de wine dan turn de pick'nev luck." ^ With one consent, and without further hindrance, the glasses were drained; and as they rattled down upon the table. Cousin •Lizbet' put up her hand to command atten- tion, then sinking slowly down upon her seat, I»7] The Story of Quamin her head fell back and her eyes gazed fixedly up at the bare rafters of the thatched roof. "She got de spirit ! " ran in an awed whisper round the table and the silence became in- tense. When her trance had lasted some minutes, the seer suddenly resumed a sitting posture and said. "Here endeth the vision of my head upon my bed. " "Amen!" devoutly responded all the com- pany, led by the parson. "Wat you see. Cousin?" demanded Nana in eager excitement. "Quamin goin' turn parson, Nana," replied the prophetess. "I see de archangel Gabriel pourin' oil 'pon him head, den blow de big brass trumpet an' holler say: 'Daniel Bel- teshazzar is anointed of de Lard.' Den little w'ile after I see him standin' by de altar of de Lard wid de Book in him han' an before him is a vas' multitud of people. He lifted up his voice an' spake unto dem an' [28] The Christening • de soun- was like as a roarin' lion an' de whole congregation trimble dereat. Yes sure him goin- turn parson an- a powerful' preacher in de Ian'." "De very fing! de very t'ing!" cried Nana Dreckett, clapping her hands in rapturous exatement. "Oh! Cousin, you is tip-top 'pon Cousin 'Lizbet' only smiled, for right well had she known Nana's desire. AH necessity for silence now at an end the conversation became both animated and ger ^ral. ■ ^chel. who was too much accustomed t' her mother's visions to be impressed by them, had made use of the abstraction of the others to slip some good big slices of cake into the handkerchirf which she had spread upon her lap and which she now carefully hid under the skirts of Ruth Debora?.. She rose now saying that it was time to go home for the baby had fallen asleep in her arms; The Story of Quamin so the company, after giving the hero of the day many loud and hearty kisses, shaking hands with their hostess, and nodding care- lessly to Father Dreckett, filed out of the house and wended their way homeward; all except Parson Blackgrove who was to sponj the night at the scene of his ministrations. [30] Ill Nine Years After 'THE nine years following his christening * were uneventful ones for Quamin, who had grown and thriven in a way to fill his grandmother^s heart with pride and joy and now at ten years of age he was much like any other little boy of his race, or indeed of any race, wild and mischief-loving, returning his grandmother's aged devotion with the thoughtless, inconsequent love of childhood and while she spent her days toiling, now m the provision field, now at laundry work for the Great House so that she might lay aside something against the time when Quamin's education must begin, he was run- nmg about bare of head and feet and almost, It might be said, bare of body also, worrying everything within reach from Ruth Deborah [3i] The Story of Quamin to the old sow whose oflfspring had furnished part of the christening feast. This morning he and Quasheba, that being the nickname of Ruth Deborah, born on a Sunday, were busy catching frogs in a pond not far from Nana Dreckett's house. Qua- mm, armed with a stick and tin dipper, was the huntsman while his companion took care of the captives. As they were handed to her by Quamin, she seized them by one hind leg and struggle as they might, the little brown hand never relaxed its hold; she was a tenacious little mortal, this playmate of Quamin's. "Quash! Quash, look!" shouted the boy holding up a huge frog for her inspection.' ^ I got de gran'fader of dem all. De skin •pon him back thick like alligetter skin. Now min' you hoi' him tight for him got a power in him foot. " "Give me here," quietly responded his companion, with calm assurance. She quickly transferred the four frogs she [32] already held to her left- h, a ," right free to cope Jthl ' ''"^'"^ ^^ '■o cope with the patriarch. Jfou can jump, me fripn* •• i, trophising the W \ «he said, apos- f mg tne frog who struggled for fr. dom, "till you foot pop off S get 'way." ^P °"' but you won't -det';hX''^"''^^''°'^°^*'>e«e;d that dSon*^^"^""^--^ 'nastily in following as fast a. .T, ' Q^^^heba 1». mute ...ito, .d„i^„ ™* I" "1 a little Shamefaced ttOua\;'°" thing daunted h.u . Q"asheba, no- k>c4 quaL: thatT ''"'^ "'^^ '^'^ abetterXr'''''^°"^*^"^'--Shtget "!°" °"^''* *° ^« -hamed of you'self,- (33J m The Story of Quamin big boy like you ketchin' fings like dat," he said severely to Quamin. "I did fink Nana say she was goin' sen' you to school." "Yes, sah, but she say I doan big 'nough yet to go 'way so far. " "Wen, I goin' talk to her 'bout it dis very mamin', for you will go on till you turn t'ief for want of somet'ing better to do." During this, conversation, Constantine was riding towards his sister's cottage with the children trotting beside him. They were silent for awhile except for Quasheba's con- tinued admonition to the frogs, until an exclamation from Quamin made Constantine inquire. "Wat is de matter wid you?" "Quasheba, you is a nasty pick'ney," the boy said in tones of deep disgust; "look here, Godpa, she jus' done bite off de buUfrog toe. " The man could hardly keep his seat for laughter. "How it tase, pick'ney?" he asked. [34l "°°^'' have no tase at all " -Plied Quasheba, ";„s' ei. 'teilTt'"" h>m wouldn't listen, so I bite 1 f ' chill him spirit." ^"" *°« t° Quamin now joined in the la„^h . •ng his supple body in / ^ ' ''°"*°'*- have made his for. ''^^ ^"'^'^ ^°«ld -Me the itt e r" r'' ' ""^^ '=°-P->" -on.,uit::aX^t:tt2'^''--^ hadtiin^dt^'^'" "'^ 2--- -hen he frog gr:S"'^°"^°^"^'"^-«'^ hull. "Of course dem got ears V„, of U,7i^' 4.<- • ^°" ever hear loo'lc'foreaS'rd^"'""'"^-^-^ yet. YoutaCLtr: J-^-^'^'-y insec' Uke c'at ^ ^'t '°""'°* ''^ poor "Ke (.at wen hun could n'f h^., you say. •• ° * hear w'at "Doan bodder me " <=»,» • -^e, she impatiently re- bsJ 1: The Story of Quamin plied, getting angry at last, "or I will t'row de whole lot of dem 'pon you to chill for you spirit." "But I tell you say " Before Quamin could finish his sentence the five frogs had slapped against his face and fallen to the ground and Quasheba was running away as fast as her little legs could carry her. He started in hot pursuit but Constantine stopped him, sajring. "Lef de gal alone; you is too ole for such foolishnes:,. " The boy came back obediently and walked the rest of the way to his grandmother's house, holding on to Constantine's saddle flap. Nana was pleased to see her brother and took him into the house while Quamin led the mule out of range of his godfather's sight, then jumping niml j on his back, went through a series of wonderful equestrian manoeuvres, while his fate was being decided (36) Nine Years After within the cottage where Constantine was pointing out to his sister the evil of letting a big boy like Quamin roam around idle ;*Him will never come to no good, sister, an dough him doan know nofing 'bout ammal-cam even ride-seein' as how I bein' his godfather an' meek de promise to de Lard to teach him de way of salvation, I will teck him in de place of Job dat lef las' week an' teach him de penn work. " The old woman spent a few seconds in deep thought, then, with a sigh of resignation rephed: "All right, Constantine, but him mus' sleep home for de firs' for him too little to lef me altogedder. " "Him can do dat, sister," replied her brother rising to go and weU pleased with the success of his mission; he was honestly proud of his godson and meant to keep the vow made at his baptism to the best of his abihty. True, his morality was not of the highest order, but this did not militate l37] The Story of Quamin against him in the eyes of his compatriots, and to the boy he was a veritable hero. Quamin seeing Constantine standing at the door, quickly sprang forward from under the sheltering orange tree where he and the mule had been taking a rest, and went to- wards him. "How would you like to be pennkeeper boy, Quamin?" asked the man, as he swung himself into the saddle. "Would like it firs' rate, sah," the boy returned, gazing at his godfather with spark- ling eyes. " Very well ! Come to de cow pea Monday marnin' six o'clock. Doan forget now." Constantine rode oflF, and Quamin tiuning to his grandmother asked eagerly. "Him mean dat. Grannie?" "Yes, Daniel Belteshazzar, you goin' to work Monday. " The boy turned a somersault to relieve his feelings of joy, while the old woman turned hastily into the house to hide her emotion. [38] Nine Years After To the restlessness of youth, this first step towards independence was an occasion of pure joy-to the aged experience of his grand- mother, it was as the first flight of the little bird, full of unseen dangers, and her loving heart feared for him. 1 , f i [»] IV Quamin Goes to Work IV/IANY Monday mornings had come and ^ ' * gone and Nana, as well as Quamin, had grown accustomed to the new order of things. Every morning at five o'clock the old woman would wake her grandson, usually by means of a generous sprinkling of cold water on his face, for Quamin slept well, then when he had wiped the drops from his face with the tail of his shirt and struggled into his trousers, she set before him a cup of steam- ing sugar and water, and a thick piece of bread, which Quamin ate while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A hasty wash to his face and hands with the end of a towel dipped in the barrel of rain water, at the door, finished his preparations and off he ran to his day's work. [40] Quamin Goes to Work This was n't always easy or pleasant, for sometimes the cattle "broke pasture" and got into the guinea-grass pieces which were set aside for the feeding of horses and sometimes a steer which was being fattened for market- then It was Quamin's duty, aided by the' other pennkeeper boy, Harry, to drive them out again. As this happened nearly always after a heavy rain, the long grass drenched them to the skin, its sharp blades cut their hands and innumerable ticks, scourge of the tropics' climbed up their legs to find a resting place under the scant clothing of the boys, there to torment them with aU but unbearable UTitation until the cattle were aU driven out and the grass piece gate shut and locked against further intrusion, when they found themselves at Uberty to take off their soak- ing garments and aid each other in exter- minatini' the enemy. Stil' . , life rather suited Quamin who liked .ty and could never stick to any [41] The Story of Quam in one thing long; besides he was naturally clever and readily learnt all that Constantino taught him. With Harry it was different. He was some two years older than Quamin and had been forced into penn work by his parents who turned a deaf ear to his earnest entreaty to be allowed to learn a trade instead. Nor was he quick-witted as the younger boy who soon ou«lid him in all branches of penn- keepmg knowledge. For some time Harry did not seem to notice this or feel any resentment, but mis- chief was brewing, and as usual, a woman stured the caldron. There were young mules to be broken, a difficult and dangerous job. requiring no mean equestrian sk-ill and much pluck, and Constantine had warned the boys to be ready for the task in the morning. Harry received the intimation in glum sJence, while Quamin. as usual, stood on his head to express his delight and with his naked [42] Quamin Goes to Work toes pjuekcd the hat from Harry's head The latter turned and snatching «„grily at his property, said: *>/■*' "IneverseeaboyHkeyou.Quamin,you never done w.d you poppy-show. De fought of w a dem mule goin' do wid you in de marmn ought to -nough to meek you Stan- softy Perhaps, dough, is de las- time you go n Stan -pon you head, so maybe you better meek debes- of it." Harry turned sorrowfully away and Quamin jumping to his feet, called out. "Chow! you too coward. Massa up a' top should have meek you to wear frock -' "You lie!- responded Harry. "I doan fraid, but I doan like de job. dat 's all " Ouamin laughed derisively and started ^r home, calling back to Harry as he went, -o-marra will be de fun." Half way to Nana Drecketfs house he Sth K°rt'' "''"' °" '''' ^^ J^olding w> h both hands her wide brimmed straw hat where it lay on the ground beside her {43] The Story of Quamin "Quamin! Quamin! come here," she called as soon as the boy came in sight, and he ran towards her, asking eagerly: "Wat you got dere?" "Crawb, able w'ite crawb!" she replied excitedly. " I see him come out of him hole over dere an' I wait till him gone far 'nough, den I run up behin' an' cover him wid me hat." " Den w'at meek you did n't teck him up all dis time?" he asked. " I go to teck him up in de hat, but jus' as I shove de hat brim so — him poke out one of him eye out of dat little hole in de crown, an' de way him cut dat eye after me, meek, I feel worse dan tuppee [penny halfpenny] wort' of puke physic; so I jus' sit down here an' turn me head so I could n't see de eye, same time I holdin' down de hat wid me two han'." Quamin laughed, then said, "Let go." Quasheba obeyed readily for her little arms were quite tired out, she had squeezed [44I Quamin Goes to Work so hard upon the hat to prevent the crab from escaping. Quamin drew from his pocket a piece string and tied it round one projecting claw which had escaped and was waving wildly about in the endeavour to seize its captor. This done, the crab was drawn from his prison and carried dangling from the string to Nana's cottage where the boy, in answer to the little giri's request for the prize, swung it out towards her and the angry crustacean, seizing Quasheba's dress, clung to it despite all her efforts to break loose. "Quamin! Quamin! teck him off before him bite me," she shrieked, while her tor- mentor only laughed and said: "Well, w'at meek you t'row bullfrog in me face one time.? I will teach you dat w'at dem say is true, 'saucy somebody always ketch trouble.' " "Do me good, Quamin, teck off de t'ing, do, " pleaded Quasheba, and finally the boy relented and with a stick knocked off the {431 The Story of Quamin tenacious claw which Quasheba picked up ard stuffed into the bosom of her dress. The crab now free, Quamin swung it right into her face, at the same time letting go the string. It fell to the ground from whence it was quickly reclaimed by its indignant owner, who turned up the path leading to her own home without even a kok at her companion. When she had gone some way, Quamin called after her. "Quasheba, dem goin' break young mule to-marra; you want to see de fun?" The little girl swung round, all resentment wiped out by this invitation, and answered quickly. "Yes;w'en?" "Wen cow milk done in de mamin'. If you want to see de business, you better come wid me w'en I go, 'bout half pas' five." "All right; i will ketch here before dat time." [46I Quamin Goes to Work So peace was restored and Quasheba went home to boil and eat her crab, while Quamin turned to his grandmother's door, his mind full of to-morrow. ill- r47i Concerning the Breaking of Mules nrO- MORROW dawned and became to-day, ■■■ and long before sunrise the two children were making their way to the cow pen, where they were soon joined by old Constan- tine and Harry. The two boys fell to milking while the "Busha" (overseer), seated on his mule, superintended proceedings, Quasheba remain- ing outside the railings of the pen and trying to make friends with the shy little calves that Harry and Quamin, with many a "hooshya!" drove from their mothers' sides. At last when the three pails were full of frothing milk, and the boys had carried them to the htwse, the real business of the morning began. I48I M^M "'U.. The Breaking of Mules The mules to be broken were driven into the pen and amid wild excitement and much halloomg, lassoed or "cast." as the saying >s m the Island, then tied to poles, where they stood lashmg their tails and snorting im- patiently. ■ ^ "I fink we will start 'pon Dare Debbil Dick. saidConstantine. "ashim is de wors'es'. Samuel you got de plantain trash and crokas bag an de long whip? Bery well! tie de cutV°K^;"''''^''"*"°*^°*'gh*-«to cuthimbeUy-youunderstan'?" " Ves, sah, " replied Samuel, and folded the bags J „^,.^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ ^^^ ^_^^ of a saddle; then he approached the tethered amma and cautiously slipping the bags upon a on '"r"'' *° ''' ^^^"^ - P'-e with a rope around the mule's body. At the first pull that Samuel gave to the rope. D^e Devi, Dick broke into open rebel! hon and for a few seconds it would have been hard to say when his hind legs rested on the ground, or when they were in the air; but [49J f-ll The Story of Quamin Samuel was an expert at this sort of thing and kept his hold on the rope while evading the flying hoofs of the mule. "Wring him ears! wring him ears!" called the overseer, and Quamin, burning with ex- citement and the zeal of immaturity, leapt forward and caught the animal's left ear. This wringing was no gentle matter, but it quieted the creature long enough for Samuel to complete his task and attach a long rope to the halter; then he freed the mule's head from the pole to which it had been tethered. Confusion reigned. The mule jumped, kicked, and tried by every device known to his species to get away, but Samuel held him fast while another of the penn hands used the long whip to such good advantage that at last the stubborn creature stopped its capers and settled down to a steady gallop, round and round in a circle as wide as the rope would allow, with Samuel the centre of it, revolving on his own axis, so to speak, [so] ^'^^^ White :^n 1:1^°? ^^"*^"^- ^- f'-^. replacing thlrw-f. '' '""'^ "'^ ^^e th« rope in aw ' ''''"^' '«^^"g "Now, wJc °oT;:7 """' ^''^ "-"^ forward. ^'^' '''''^ 9"aniin sprang "Me. Busha-piease. sah?" Constantine, knowing the ,1. -t-ation, hesitated, but 0!''" "' *'^ again and he yielded ° P'^^''^'' side." "^ "«=^ you heel touch U^ *h't^^'r;T?:j---ntw.o„ ^o^i»gtheendo';h:t:i;''^''^-"^ ■'^^l Went vrell anj behaved more "eel ' tT "' ^°^^ ^^-^ ^-"-^hisgod;:twTsr^"'^"^<^'--. ^-p-essh.itourg:::~-^"'^"^^ The Story of Quamin The effect was magical. With one bound, Dare Devil Dick had torn himself from Samuel's hold and with head down and hoofs in air, was doing his best to rid himself of his unwonted burden; but Quamin stuck fast and the enraged animal gave up the attempt and rushed away over the pas- tures under trees, over ditches, till he was lost to, sight over the brow of the hill and Constantine turned an ashy face to Sam- uel, saying, "God Almighty! de boy dead already. " They went in search of Quamin, expecting to find his mangled corpse by the wayside, but no trace of him could they find. Still Con- stantine rode on, the others following on foot, till they reached the public road, where a pas- ser-by told them the mule had passed him at a gallop, the boy still on his back. While they talked, a halloo came from far down the road and Constantine's heart leapt for joy, for here was Quamin jogging along towards them, Dare Devil Dick having "Jus' to de top of dat hill ^ -e de obeahJn house „ T"^ ^'""^ strong galloping, ,J°;'" ^"^ '^^ 'Pon ^^ door mouth v !? '''^°'^'"' ^t ^---dorn.-dZhtr''" ''"'--• to come home" ">'« «^e an' meek P°°^ beast asl T'°"''"^'"^'^'^°rthe S^t a drink, after which h 2 do ^"' '° As for Quamin, he wa th ' ^'==*- admiring groun 'u ? ""*'"" °^ ^n °f his ride again and a '™ '^" '""^ ^^'^ -winded them thaf f"' ""'' Constantino work. "'''"'"^^"'ne to return to IS3l The Story of Quamin Harry was the only one to have no word of praise for Quamin's daring; a wild jealousy had taken possession of his heart, av.^ to make matters worse, Quasheba had c; .nly called him a coward as well as otht- names less complimentary, so when the chatterers were dispersed, he walked off to feed the pigs with a heavy scowl on his face. Quasheba spent the day in following Quamin about and at dusk, when work was over, Samuel, the pennkeeper, declared his intention of going part of the way home with the children, adding in explanation of this unheard-of step, that it was not well for children to walk alone so late. His listeners looked wonderingly at each other and one of them muttered, "De man turn fool over dat boy." When half way to the house, the penn- keeper said to Quamin: " I goin' race me mare Bees Wing at de Bay races after Christmas; you t'ink you could manage to ride her for me?" IS4l "Yes for true. You is jus' 'bout de right «-an I fink Constantino will len-Jou to me for de free day." ^ . "^°°'*^-' ""^^^y-' Igoin'tumjockya" he shouted, cutting his usual capers, thl InZ T'' '"^"" ''^'^ ^^ let ^ff " enable lum to walk quietly along, he plied house came m view, and with it the road fading :n another direction to Samuel's cottage, extracted a pronnse from theZl 1-per that he would speak to Constanti„ o^" the m™,. „,,,,, ,^,^^^^.^^^^^ - hafelai?!"! 't" ' "'^'^ ^"^^ ^« -"^d have lam awake half the night with excite- men and joy; but being black, his head td fersLr"'^"^^^^^----"- (5Sl VI OBEAH pONSTANTlNE consented to Samuel's ^^ request, not without a feeling of pride in the confidence shown by the pennkeeper m Quamin's riding, and the boy himself gave all his spare time to the racer. When the mare went out to exercise, Quamin was there to watch her start, and best of all, when she was galloped around the local race-course, Quamin was on her back. .In English riding master would have said that the boy's heels were not held close enough to the horse's sides, but there his criticism must have stopped, for the young jockey sat his steed perfectly, and his hands gi.ided the fiery little mare so skilfully yet witl :al so gently, that Bees Wing knew he loved her. and always did her best for him. [S6J '•^1 .po» w„ ,„,, ^d ,t 4 » "'■ bnick him pocket " " '"^^ plead for the bov .»^ -1 '™'"' ""' f57j ^iil MICROCOPV RESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI nod ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.0 !f"- I 2.5 j|2.2 I.I 1."^ Ilia 1.8 1:25 ill 1.4 lllll 1.6 _J /^PPt-IED IIVMGE Inc ^r 1653 East Main Street r-.S Rochester, Ne* Yofk 14609 USA 'JSS (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone :ag (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax The Story of Quamin milk the cows with the grudge against his more favoured rival seething in his heart. At the same time he took a deep interest in Samuel's mare and never wearied of listening to Quamin's eager recital of all that went on. "But de chiefes' t'ing," said Quamin to him one day, "is de obeah, an' dat Missa Samuel goin' get from Guinea Bill Monday night." "Chow!" exclaimed Harry, "Samuel too foolish 'bout obeah. Him better keep him money to buy com for de mare, for Guinea Bill obeah doan any use. " "Hush!" said Quamin, glancing hurriedly around, "teck care, him hear you." "Since me doan believe in obeahman, w'at needs me care if him hear me or not?" "Since w'en you doan believe in obeah- man?" asked Quamin in surprise. "T'inkyou did ask me yesterday if Massa Samuel not goin' get obeah work 'pon him mare, for if dat doan done, him never can win de race. " "Den you didn't see dat it was fun I [581 Obeah meckin' wid you?" said Harry with a little forced laugh. Quamin eyed his companion in slight aston- ishment, ihen he said solemnly. "Better not call obeahman name in vain, or him wiU get vex' an' ketch you shadder in a bottle, den you will stiff dead before Pattoo wake." Harry tried to laugh but Quamin's warn- ing sent a cold chill through him; and pre- tending that he had forgotten some duty which must be performed before Constantine came home, made it an excuse for leaving in a hurry, and before Quamin had time to say any more on the subject of obeah. Monday night descended as dark as the darkest heart or deed could wish and Samuel tremblingly put five shilUngs into his pocket, and concealing under his ragged coat a pint of rum, this being the price of Guinea Bill's ministrations, left the house shortly before midnight and took the road to the obeah- man's haunt. [59] The Story of Quamin Arrived here, everything was as still as the grave, and no gleam of light shone from within to give evidence of Guinea Bill's vigil. As Samuel knocked softly at the door, something whizzed past his face and the thought that it might be an evil spirit sent by its master to see who was at the door, made him bold to knock again and whisper hoarsely. " It 's me, Samuel, Guinea Bill, I beg you to open de door, sah." His request was granted and there stood the great magician himself holding a little tin lamp high above his head that its beams might fall on the face of the man outside. "Come in," he said quietly, and Samuel entered the hut while the wizard shut the door and putting the little tin lamp down on the solitary table which stood in the centre of the room, seated himself, motioning Samuel to do the same. With trembling lips and more than one halt, the man told of his mare Bees Wing and M the intended race, ending his tale with a nsrhirh'^™"^"'^<'-^^<>^-'>and insure his horse winning ihe race. When the pennkeeper had finished, the obeahman rose without making any 'w of the hut, taking with hin, the little lamp zi:r '-''-' ^^°- ^" --- -- He had not been gone many minutes when a streak of light flashed through the gloom andd p red^3,,,,„,^^^.^^^^J - Agan and a.am it came and went and w2;ttr°Thf ^""^^^-- h.^ u . ^''"^"^'^- ^his was more than he hadb edf„,,„,,^^^^^^^^^^^ to seek refuge outside, but the return of ove::r""f'*'^^'^'"p-'-'^*'^-an; over-stramed nerves enough to enable him to return to his spat a„^ ■ . for h;. fi . '''^"''e '" exchange for h:s five shillings and bottle of rum a sma 1 vial containing some white fluid, a blaek bottle securely corked, and a round tobacco [6lJ The Story of Quamin tin, the lid of which was tied down with a piece of white cotton cloth. As he handed each one to Samuel, he gave with it full directions for its use, saying in conclusion. '•Dere now, I done me bes' for you an' w'en de race is over, I expec' a present of a young shoat for me sarvices. " "All right, Guinea," said Samuel, "if Bees Wing win, I can well able to give you a pig 'pon top of de five shillin' an' de rum, for de purse is twenty poun'." " Dat 's a lot of money, Samuel, a lot of money. Since you gettin' so much, I t'ink I ought to get a young barra pig to match df shoat, for it is all frough de obeah I give you dat you horse goin' win. " Samuel's face fell. The price was already enough, but he dared not provoke the wrath of the magician by refusing his demands, so he said, "All right," and vanished into the darkness before any further extortion could fall upon him. M himself. Seeing fZi ? " ""'""« '° bottle to his Unsdrri. P""'"2 the seemed eatiXtt/'"'^"'^^"^'^^'-^-h days. won<£;tere I """"'"' "°^-^- A l-„ 1 ""^S^"" get it? " soil JuTa„rhf; 'T '^^ ^" -'^ *° ''■•^ visitor co4 be °"*°"^"^°^^--ond thewattliTair;;^"^:^'-'^*-holei„ Samuel's visit and wh , * *'''-°"ghout tl^e flashlig t :mIZ "" '^' "^'^^ pennkeeper ''^ '° ^^^^ the Wat you come for now?" tf,» • . (63] The Story of Quamin such profitable client as the pennkeeper had been. Harry was almost too frightened to answer, but instinct told him the way to Guinea Bill's favour, and putting his hand into his pocket, he drew forth six shillings. The old man was mollified. "Sit down," he said more kindly, and Harry obeyed, for he had been standing so long that he was tired out. After a few min- utes of silence during which Harry had ga- thered a little courage, the old man urged the boy to speak and tell his errand, and Harry began. First he told of his hatred of Quamin with- out mentioning the name of his enemy, then of the proposed race and his earnest desire that the horse his rival rode should 'lot win, and lastly his hope that the obeahman would help him to this latter end. The wizard listened, his small black eyes aglow, and when the boy had finished, knew more than Harry had intended or desired. Nl ^^r* "'*""»■■»» «y".o..ly give ™i « luxe, white pill. ^ ^^ S™ de'^ij^'v ^'°" y °'"°^ "• »'^'« '»'<>» (651 The Story of Quatnin The obeahman, left alone once more, took another drink of rum, thon blew out his lignt and got into the rickety wooden frame with its mattress of straw, which he dignified by the name of bed, muttering as he did so, " Dat boy mus' have t'ief dat money, for I know dat Constantino only pay him shillin' a week an' feedin'. " [66] VII The Soaring Calf themselves to 281 The Funeral grove leading, and Nana and Quamin foUow- Jng just behind the coffin. The grave had been dug at the foot of a large mango tree which stood on a slight rising not far from the house and to this the procession wended its way, but before it had proceeded many yards there was a halt, and Samuel, the pennkeeper, who with a relative of the deceased named Barabas constituted two of the paU-bearers turned to the widow and said, "Him won't go, Nana." The widow looked puzzled. They were passing no house harbouring an inmate against whom the old man in life might have had a grudge, and she was therefore at a loss to understand his reason for stopping the pro- cession. "Wat is de matter?" demanded the ad- vance guard discovering the break. "Corpse won't go no further. Parson " repUed Constantine, who with Cousin Joshy were the other two paU-bearers. ■ [lagj -Am The Story of Quamin There was a pause, then the company began whispering together and Cousin 'Liz- bet' stepped up to Nana and whispered some- thing in her ear. Nana nodded assent and going to the coffin appeared to hold converse with the dead, then turning to the prJl-bearers she said, "You can go on now. Him did just want to make me remember to lef de bot- tle of rum for him to-night. You 'mem- ber I promise him dat las' night at de wake?" "Ah! so for true," said Samuel, as though he had quite forgotten the incident. The procession started and this time the corpse was carried without hindrance to the side of the grave where, in lowering the slings from their shoulders, the pall-bearers showed some awkwardness, letting the coffin turn a little to one side. Nana threw up her hands exclaiming: "Oh! my Fader, look at dat now, and if there is one t'ing de ole man did more [130I ( potickler -bout, it was to have hin, hat straight "pon him head." " ^'^"' "•"■' "« '^Wle," said Parson Black- grove soothingly. "Seeing as it was not his fault, de Lard wiU surely excuse him for dat ^t us pray. " The burial service was read, the coffin lowered to its last resting place, and the company joining hands in a circle about the grave, sang "Only one more river to cross," after which the coffin was covered, the earth beaten down, and with another Sankey and Moody hymn to finish with, they dispersed, he relatives of the widow r^tur^g with her to the house. Here it was Rose-Mary's intention to remain for at least ten days, as the ghost of the departed was apt to prowl about the place which had once known him for nine nights after death, and of course Nana could not be left to face the "duppy" alone That night in the bedroom of the litUe cot- tage where Father Dreckett had been laid ti3'l •t if J; II : * : * 1 The Story of Quamin out a lamp was left burning; and true to her promise, Nana purchased a pint of rum which she placed with a plate of cooked food on the table, whereon stood the lamp. Then she shut the door and the entire household betook themselves to sleep uprin the floor of the sitting-room. Just before midnight, Nana was disturbed by the wild cackling of a hen which she had put to set upon a nest of eggs under the house. "Rose-Mary, Rose-Mary," she called in low, frightened tones, "him come!" but Rose-Mary heard not and knew nothing of the visit from the dead until next morning re- vealed the rum bottle empty, and most of the food consumed. "Lard! Him did hungry for true," she said, and every one agreed with her. Meanwhile Samuel, with his head bound up in a wet cloth, lay on his straw litter un- able to move, while Barabas, whose share in the spoil had been limited, staggered about I132I The Funeral vainly trying to perfonn the office of penn- keeper, until dismissed by Constantino as "A good for not'ing jackass." When three days had passed and Samuel's indisposition grew worse instead of better a story got abroad, probably through the instrumentality of Barabas, who like Adam felt himself exempt from blame in as much as he had not been the one to pluck the fruit, that the pennkeeper was haunted by a duppy.' Samuel, hearing this, and remembering his theft, grew so alarmed that his condition became critical. Something must be done, and as a duly registered medical man was of no avail in such a case, the services of a "Duppy Catcher" must be sought. "Guinea BiU is first rate for dat," volun- teered Harry, and a messenger was dispatched for the obeahman and soon he came, riding the mule, while the messenger walked behind at a respectful distance. Guinea BiU carried a much worn carpet bag, and dismounting demanded: (•33] The Story of Quamin "Where is de sick?" Constantine conducted him to Samuel's bedside and he stooped to examine the pa- tient, lifting the eyelids and peering under them, staring into the face of the prostrate man, whose teeth; chattered with combined ague and fright. When he had finished his examination, Guinea Bill ordered Constantine to leave him alone with the patient, and when he had been obeyed, he said to Samuel: "You hab any quarrel wid anybody? Tell de truth now or you will surely die." "No, sah," faltered Samuel. "You t'ief anyt'ing from you neighbours? Tell de truth now or you will surely die. " Samuel opened his lips as if to speak, then closed them again. "Tell de truth, sinner, or you shall widder away Uke de 'Dead and Wake' [sensitive plant] when you touch it. " "I t'ief a pint of rum, Guinea," faltered Samuel. [1341 The Funeral "Aha! I said so, my son; and who did dat rum belong to— de dead or de Uving?" "De dead," came in a whisper from the pennkeeper's ashen lips. "Aha! just so I thought, for I see the pic- ture of dat carpse in you' eyeball and de case IS a bad one. Dat dead was very fond of rum and you did not wisely to tob him; derefore, before I can catch dat duppy you must pay de price in silver, my son, twelve pieces of silver. An' furdermore. you mus' place upon de grave of dat said carpse a bottle of rum two times de size of de one dat you fief from him." Samuel, knowing what to expect, had tied his smaU savings in the comer of a handkerchief which he had hidden .^der the mattress. This he now drew • 'ih. 'Eleven is all I has, Guinea, but de res' I will pay you when I get better. " "Wid less dan twelve pieces in my pocket It is double de work to catch dat duppy, an' [>35) The Story of Quamin you mus' derefore pay me six pieces more when you got de money." Samuel groaned; this was indeed extortion, yet he had no choice, for refusal meant death. "Very well, Guinea, I 'gree to dat." From the bag the magician now drew a pint bottle into which he put twelve com grains, and leaving the bag in a comer of the sick man's room went out to commence opera- tions. There was an anxious assemblage waiting for further developments and this now drew back as the obeahman appeared. Three times he made the rounds of the house, rattling the com grains and calling, " Chick, Chick, Chick ! " As he completed the third round he made a thrust into the air with the bottle and exclaiming, "Aha! I got you," quickly corked in the offending astral. Now that the danger was over, the tongues of the onlookers relaxed and every one wanted a peep at the precious bottle. [136I I •'I see hin,!! see him.- shouted Barabas. an h.m look JUS' like Fader Dreckett." Heanng this, the anxiety of the crowd to e™ the bottle became greater than ever but Gmnea Bill quickly put a damper on handkerchief andreturning^thittosJuers "Now my son. you is safe, but dean forget de s« sh,lhngs for him is a strong duppy 2 f y- doan pay de fuU price d!t cTcan ^ev^keep him in and dat duppy will com: out and haunt you worse dan ever " "God bless you. Guinea Bill!" „,urmu,,d ^ .^ma..whoassoonasthemagicdanhad left bm fell mto a refreshing sleep. Guinea BiU retired to the house of Constan- ce where he was liberally entertained, and i^ixtrd'r^^-"""^^--- His illness and subsequent recovery were the tali of the entire neighbourhood a^d fear of Father Drecketfs duppy kept most f^s Ii37l indoors after dark. At sunset little groups collected at the various houses where ghost stories from one and the other added to the general nervousness, and when the time came to disperse, the company saw each other home accompanied by a lantern bearer and a dog. Every shadow on the way caused a halt and many a sudden scream from one or the other of the women broke the stiUness of the tropical night. [138] XII The Pill Box A T last the nine days and nights had passed ^ and the little community could settle down once more with a sense of security smce they felt sure that even if Father Dreck- ett should revisit the earth, he would not wander far from the shades of the mango tree beneath which rested his mortal remains; so that the dog and the lantern had had their day, and retired into the background until another death should caU again for their ser\dces. On the tenth day after the funeral, Cousin Joshy and his family went home, leaving Quanun behind at the request of his grand- mother, who felt in need of his consoling presence. Poor Uttle Fibba shed many bitter tears I139] at r The Story of Quamin the parting v/ith Quasheba, for between the little girls a strong friendship had sprung up, and Negril seemed a very dull prospect indeed beside the many and varied attractions of life in the mountains, with Quasheba to lead and she to follow, the part Fibba ever liked the best. Her cat, too, must be parted from for a while, for after many consultations it had been agreed that Quamin should take charge of Miss Elsie on the return journey, for there was no c>'rtainty as to what Rose-Mary's opinion on the subject of its return might be. Quamin promised to take every care of her pet, and Fibba had learned to have confidence in his promises, so she bade farewell for a time to the cat, showering many kisses on its cold noso, then putting it into Qviasheba's arms, bent forward to kiss her friend. "Wipe you' mout' firs'," commanded Quasheba, drawing back. "I doan want to ketch tyzick, an' U only yesterday I see Miss Elsie eatin' a lizard." I140I The Pill Box Fibba obeyed, and the elders having by this time got through their adieux, the little party of barefoot travellers started on their long tramp. Quamin and Quasheba, now left without companions of their respective sexes, fell back mto their old habits, and started for the pond with a dilapidated basket to catch ticky- tickles (minnows). At the pond side Quamin stooped to pick from the mud a large red pill box with a white cover. "See here, Quasheba." he said, showing it to the little girl, "dis is jus' de same as de one Samuel fin' at de back of de stable door m de Bay w'en Rowlin' Calf bite me. " ■Dat is one of Guinea BiU piU box " returned the little girl. "I know dem weU for one day I see Harry have some, an' I ask himw'erehimgetdem. Harry lamin' obeah. you know," she added in a sepulchral whis- per; then as if a sudden thought had struck her, she added, "I wonder if him can turn into RowUn' Calf w'en him like?" I141] "Nebber. I doan beUeve so; but see him comin' dere; meek we ask him." "Hide de piU box," said Quasheba hur- riedly, and Quamin thrust it into his pocket. "Wat you two doin' here?" asked Harry as he came up to them. "Catchin'fish,"repUed Quasheba promptly. "Harry," she continued, "you know if some- body can turn into RowUn' Calf shape?" "Of course dem can— if dem only know de way." "You know?" asked the girl innocently. "Yes, an' I can say de word an' turn you into a chicken or a lizard." "Lard!" exclaimed Quasheba, seriously alarmed. "Oh! chttt, doan beUeve him, Quasheba, him can't do it at aU, at all, but jus'boasin' w'en him say dat." "Better teck care, Missa Quamin, or I call iiqjpy now come teck you. " " CaU den. You is a hard from time, Harry, The Pill Box an' doan know not'ing 'bout call duppy or suchlike t'ing. " The answer was a stinging blow on the side of his head, and immediately Quamin was on the defensive. The two boys fought wildly after the manner of their African forefathers, while Quasheba jumped around them, encouraging Quamin and clapping her hands in unre- strained exdtemenl every time he gained an advantage. At last Quamin's chance came and lowering his head he butted with aU his might; the blow landed square in the other boy's diaphragm and sent him sprawUng breathless to the ground. "Teck dat for you imperance," said the victor triumphantly as he threw himself on the grass beside Quasheba. Harry soon recovered and sitting up looked about for his hat. ' ' See it here, "said Quamin with alaugh as he threw the pill box at his antagonist, and Harry, looking up quickly, received it full in his face. ['431 ir "Were you get dat?" queried the youth- ful Duppy Catcner, in surprise, and Quasheba answered before Quamin had time to do so: "Behin' de stable in de Bay dat time you form RowUn" Calf an' juke Quamin wid penknife." The boy was dumb with amazement, and plainly agitated, but he quickly recovered himself and with a forced laugh said: "You t'ink you know everyfing Miss Quasheba. How I could be at de Bay an' at me moder house at de same time?" "You nebber go to you' moder house, for Barabas tell me him see you drivin' in a cart to de Bay dat same day, an' you' moder live up at de mountainside." Harry was nonplussed but determined not to give in. ' 'Barabas tell you a lie; I only drive as far as de shop to get somet'ing to carry give me moder how she been sick." "Wen him sec you, you pass dc shop long time," said Quasheba determinedly. I144) The Pill Box "Oh! stop you nonsense, you damn little fool," said Harry fiercely, losing his temper and rushing at the little girl who quickly got behind Quamin. "You want to fight-/ith woman.eh?" asked this latter squaring himself and rolling his fists right in Harry's face. "Well take dat an' go 'bout you' business. " He delivered a blow which sent Harry reeling back and would have followed it up mth another but his antagonist, at no time very brave, took to his heels, only stopping at a safe distance to shake his fist at Quamin and say, "I will pay you for dis, you hear? ^Tien he had disappeared the two children settled doxvn quietly to the catching of their fish, and after an hour or so had enough of the small minnows to make quite a meal. These they divided and earned to their respective homes where they were eaten with much relish. More than half his time Quamin spent with i'4Sl The Story of Quatnin his godfather and had many a heavenly gallop on the mare Bees Wing, who seemed not to have forgotten him, and whinnied at the sound of his voice. Thus the days flew by, and it was very regretfully that he woke one morning to the knowledge that this was his last day at home. Nana, too, was sad at the thought of parting once more from her darUng, but she still cherished fondly the dream of seeing him a mighty preacher, and so smothered her regrets and went to work to cook him com pones, duckanoes, and other tropical delica- cies that he might feast royally before he went. As for Quasheba, she was utterly cast down, for with the departure of Quamin she would be bereft of all companions, with the exception of Harry, who, of course was now out of the question. She hovered around Quamin all day, and only turned her footsteps home- wards at sunset because she did not care to merit the punishment which would surely be hers if she stayed away longer. I146I Ui "I will go wid you as far as de house " waWd i" ''' """""^ ''-■^ gra„dn,other wakened lun, and hurrying into his clothes h^ade haste to catch Miss Elsie and secut Hardly had he swaUowed his cttp of hot beverage, and a piece of bread, which Nana set.fo.hi..whenConstantine.scartl": He got in and the old woman saw to the stowing away of his bundle, then K-issd h you, me boy!" and with eyes heavy with tears, watched him go from her once more The cart erept away in the dim. shadowy . f ' f '^'^y »°™«g and when it had van- 'Shed f, her sight, the old woman turned back- mto her cottage, feeling that now ind'd was she widowed. '"ueea (i4;I xra Negril Again AS Quamin walked up the slope to the cottage at Negril, Abijah and Fibba came running to meet him. "Were me puss?" asked the Uttle girl before she had reached his side. "Pee you' puss dere," he exclaimed, throwing the basket containing her treasure to Fibba, who with difficulty caught it before it fell to the ground. "An' min' you, dat is a job I doan want again. Dat puss 'pon bawlin' from de minit de cart move off till now." "She is on dyin' wid hungry!" exclaimed Fibba and started to run for the house, where the cat was speedily set at liberty and fed on the scraps which her mistress had saved from her own scanty meal. [148I The two boys fol!owcd more slowly. Abijah entertaining Quamin with an account of the doings at Negri] during his absence. Me fader meckin' a new canoe, you know, Quamin, a able big one, can hoi' six somebody at one time." "Were him have it?" asked Quamin full 01 interest. "Down by de sea-shore, as you go to Daddy Longfoot shop. I wi-U show you it as soon as you eat you dinner done; dem goin' burn It out to-marra." _ But Quamin was too tired after his long journey in the hot sun, and had no sooner eaten his portion of salt fish and cocoa than he betook himself to his mattress and slept the round of the clock. Next morning after a visit had been paid to the new canoe, the boys bethought them o. a long postponed swimming contest, and started for the beach. Fibba, who was feeding the chickens at the kitchen door, threw down the remaining (149) food in her apron, and ran after them, "Were you goin', Abijah? Goin bade? Getting no answer, she ran after them to the beach where the boys were hurriedly stripping off their clothes. "Go 'way! Go "way!" they shouted in unison. "Gal doan have no business here." Fibba's eyes filled with tears; she had so often shared their sports and could swim almost as well as they could, so why should they object to her company? "All right, yah! I not comin' near you; I goin' bade by meself," she returned with a toss of her head though her tears were falling fast. „ , "Teck care shark ketdh you,' called Abijah, and then the boys plunged into the water. When she had rounded a point in the bay, and was hidden from their sight, the girl undressed slowly and walked naked into the sea. Ay her joy had faded and though the I150I li"- Negril Again sun shone brightly and the day was hot. she shivered as the water rose to her knees. Dipping her head down, she wet her fore- head, then plunging boldly in, swam around like a big brown fish. From the point she could see the boys without being seen and watched them swim out a good distance, then turn and race back This they repeated again and again, and sometimes Quamin was first and sometimes Abijah, until Fibba could not be sure who was really the victor. After a few dives, they came to the beach and got into their clothes, and Fibba, having seen it aU, continued her own aquatic gym- nasties. She swam out as far as she judged the boys had gone; back and forth until she was tired, then turned to come in. Just then Quamin and Abijah, who were coming towards her, saw the little black head disap- pear beneath the waves. "Run, Abijah!" said Quamin, and the two [151] MICROCOTY RESOLUTION TKT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) _^ APPLIED irvHGE Inc ^E"- '653 East Main Slreet ^.S Rochester, New York 1*609 USA '-^ (716) «82 - 0500 - Phone ^= (716) 288 - 5989 - Fo« The Story of Quamin ran to the beach, but there was no sign of the little girl. "My God!" he exclaimed, "shark got her. Meek has', Abijah, an' get you' fader. '' Abijah did as he was bid and soon Joshy came running. "She come up yet?" asked the man, of Quamin. , , . ^ tt, "No, sah," the boy rephed. his teeth chattering. "Get de canoe," he commanded, and soon his fishing dug-out was dancing on the "" By'this time a crowd had gathered, the schoolmaster in its midst. "Let me go wid you, Joshy?" he saad, and Joshy nodded. . ,. 4. j t,„ They paddled out to the spot indicated by the boys, then without a word the father handed his paddle to his compamon and plunged into the waves. _ So long did Joshy remain lost to sight that those on shore feared a double tragedy I152I Negril Again and began to discuss what should be done next. Before any decision had been reached, however, his head appeared above the water and a second later he had lifted to the side of the canoe the little brown corpse of his daughter. The schoolmaster uttered a cry of horror, but the father only said, "Paddle to de shore," and sat holding the dead girl upon his knees. There were many willing hands to beach the canoe and some would have helped the bereaved man with his burden, but he waved them off and carried the corpse up the hill to the house where Rose-Mary sat wailing, amid a circle of comforters. Next day a grave was dug in a cocoanut grove close by the road and with a brief funeral service read by the schoolmaster, Fibba was laid to rest; it was her turn to lead now and the others must follow when their time had come. While the corpse remained in the house, [>53l The Story of Quamin Miss Elsie, mewing piteously, had desired to creep to her old shelter in the little girl's arms but this was not allowed, and the cat retired to a dark comer where she lay unob- served until the funeral procession formed, then she crept softly after the group and remained behind unnoticed when the last of the mourners had gone from the grave. That night it rained heavily and a boy returning from the light-house, overwhelmed with fear at the thought of passing the newly made grave, as he neared the spot picked up a stone, and when the tired mewing of the little cat reached his ears, he threw it in the direction of the sound and fled for dear life- There was a mew cut short, then silence from all but the pattering rain drops, some of which fell on the body of the Uttle dead cat as she lay full length on the grave of her mistress. It was about two weeks after this that Quasheba received the long promised letter [154I Negril Again from Quamin. She found it at the shop where it had been left by some stray traveller from Negril, and where she had gone to make a purchase for her mother. Her face beamed delight as the envelope bearing the inscription, "Miss Ruth Deborah Evans" was handed to her, and despatching her mother's business as quickly as possible, turned to go home. Now Ruth Deborah Evans had learned of the schoolmaster despised of Nana Dreck- ett how to read out of a book, but the perusal of writing offered some difficulties, and the Kttle giri, after weighty consideration, de- cided to take her letter to Cousin 'Lizbet' who was her grandmother and somethii.g of a scholar. The road home seemed unusually long as she hurried over it, but there was consolation in examining from time to time the address written in large childish characters. Cousin 'Lizbet' sat on a bench outside the door and Quasheba lost no time in de- positing her mother's parcel on the kitchen [>S5] The Story of Quamin table and presenting the letter to the old woman with the request to have it read. Cousin 'Lizbef drew the spectacles from her fo-ehead where they had been reposing, and settled them on her nose, then with great del"-eration opened the letter and proceeded to read it aloud. It ran thus: "Dear QuashebA, "I lam nough to keip de pramise I mayke to you an wishin to tell you dat you fren Fibba is died of drownding. We does our bes to save her but cudden quarUfy. She bury onder one big cocoanut tree an her puss is also pas before wid her. Miss Elsie ly ded on de grave an dere is some wat say dat de duppy choke de cat dat she mite have it wid her how she so much lov it in life. "Respeckful you fren, "Daniel Belteshazzar Fielding." The tears were streaming down Quasheba's face for in her own wayward, warm-hearted way she really loved her friend. [156I Negril Again "Fibba dead an' gone! Fibba dead an' gone!" she moaned, rolling around on the ground where she had thrown herself. "Chile, stop you' bawlin'," said her grand- mother. "Fibba is now wid de Lard w'ere dere is no more weepin', only singin' an* rejoicin'." There was silence for a while, then Quasheba lifted up her tear-stained face and said: "But Grannie, Fibba cam sing no more dan John Crow, so how she goin' to manage?" " De Lard will provide, chile, an' dem as has no vice, him will meek to play 'pon cymbal. Come now, meek we go tell Nana Dreckett." "Wat cymbal stan' like, Grannie?" asked Quasheba, ever athirst for information. "Jus' like two pot-head meek out of brass, an' dem beat dem togedder so, bram! bram!" There was silence between the two all the rest of the way to Nana Drcckett's house, broken only by an occasional sniffle from the little girl, who could not find complete com- fort in the contemplation of her friend's bliss. [157] That night after they had returned from their visit, Rachel, hearing an extraordinary noise in the kitchen, went to see what it was and found Quasheba marching back and forth, singing her favourite hymn, "Only one more river," to an accompaniment of clashing pot-lids. "For gracious sake! Wat is de matter wid de chile?" asked Rachel astonished and Quasheba replied shyly: "I larnin' meself to play de cymbal. Ma, so dat w'en I dead de Lard will give me a seat 'pon de same bench wid Fibba." "Chile, you too fool! go to you' bed an' say you' prayers good, so dat^Massa up a' top will excuse you dis time." Quasheba, putting away her cymbals, did as she was bid and soon went to sleep to dream that she had died and was up in Heaven with Fibba, with whom she was play- ing a duet on golden pot-lids, much to the ap- probation of the archangel Gabriel, her grand- mother's favourite among the heavenly host. [158] XIV Nana Gives up Hope and the Parson ■|^HEN Quamin had reached the age '' » limit for the public schools and was, if anything, rather more learned than most negro boys of his age. Nana Dreckctt's am- bition was not yet satisfied, and she gladly accepted the schoolmaster's of^er to keep her grandson for awhile as a private scholar. Cousin Joshy was pleased at the arrange- ment for Quamin had become quite a valu- able assistant in the fishing business, and as his lessons must now be taken in the evening after school hours, there would be more time at his disposal than before. So all hands were satisfied, and no one realised that Nana Dreckett had once more made heroic sacrifice of her own feelings for the good of her grandson. [•59] The Story of Quamin She felt old age descending heavily upon her and wearied for some sign of the "call" coming to Quamin, for as yet there had been none, but still she clung to her faith in Cousin 'Lizbet's prophecy, and waited pa- tiently. However, as the years continued to pass and still there was no sign, the jid woman, feeling something must be wrong, sent for her grandson to come home and she would ge her friend Parson Blackgrove to decide for her the proper direction in which to set the feet of Daniel Belteshazzar. Quamin felt the parting from the household at Negril where he hud made a comfortable niche for himself, and it would have been hard to recognise in the tall, well set up youth, wearing a suit of blue serge, well blackened boots, and a jaunty sailor hat, the little barefoot boy who had clung to his grandmother's skirts six years ago. Abijah, also well grown anJ much changed, went with Quamin as far as the Bay where the shop cart took them and where the boys [i6o] Nana Gives up Hope and the Parson parted with much regret, promising to see each other soon again. The rest of the way Quamin must walk so after breakfasting with Rose-Mar^J cousm he put his supple jack through the J.S of h.s bundle and. swinging it over hi shoulder, set out. When the outskirts of the town were passed he stopped and sitting on a wayside bank removed his shiny boots and y.-ow socks then tying the boots together, .ung them' a^o on,, tick over his shoulder, stuffed th" socks mto his pocket, and proceeded on hi! way with much more comfort It was late in the evening when he reached h.s grandmother's cottage where Quasheba. a slender girl of fifteen, was busy helping Nana ^reckett in preparing a sumptu'o repast and watching the road by which yuamm must arrive. They were both in the kitchen getting '^/T^-oes .^t ol the ,ot ^i.en a .od said. Hi! Grannie, how you do?" [.6.J The Story of Quamin The duckanoes fell with a splash back into the pot and Nana Dreckett gr.thered the boy into her longing arms, while Quasheba stood by beaming with joy. 'My fader! Quasheba, you grow into big woman already," said the boy when he had time to look at her. "How you do?" "So-so, t'ank you, an' how is you'self?" " Mos' tired to deaf an' hungry too." "Poor boy! Quasheba help me wid dese t'ings an' meek we give him some victuals," said the old woman turning once more to the steaming pot. It did n't take long to get the duckanoes out upon a dish and carry them to the house where Quamin followed and was soon feasting royally while Quasheba and his grandmother, with joyous excitement, waited on him. The girl had somehow expected to see the barefoot Quamin of her childhood's days, and this fine young man, as be seemed to her in his fashionable clothes (for the boots had been replaced before the end of the [•62] Nana Gives up Hope and the P arson journey), brought to her a st.ange shyness Which she had never before experienced When Quamin's hunger had been appeased the three sat on the door-step on which Father Dreckctt had died, and the old worn, and the girl listened with eager attention to all that Quamin had to tell of thr ^vents of the last four years, for it was all that time since he had been home. Quamin was a good raconteur and gave to the placid everyday life at Negril touches which made it alive with interest for his listeners. So enthralled was Quasheba that she had forgotten the long walk home, and It was now so late that Nana Dreckett per- suaded her to stay until the morning. She was easily persuaded and shared Nana's bed with much complacency. The next morning Quamin must go to see his godfather and Nana took the opportunity of holding council with Parson Blackgrove Now Constantine was one of the parson's most influential parishioners, and had plainly [163] The Story of Quamin im expressed disapproval of his sister's choice and of coercion being put upon the boy who was evidently not destined by nature for the ministry. Clearly then, the parson's duty was to disabuse Nana Dreckett's mind of the cherished idea, and this he tried to do by proving the boy's inefficiency. "Has he heard de voice of de Lard in de night time, ma'm?" he asked. "No, Parson, I never hear so," she replied dolefully. _ ^ , "Does him break out into singin' an thanksgivin', ma'm?" Nana shook her head; her heart was grow- ing heavier with each question she was obliged to answer in the negative. "Has he openly renounce' de wori', de flesh, an' de debbil, an' does he sit apart w'en oders are feastin' an' eat little?" Nana groaned in spirit at the remembrance o^ Quamin's raid upon last night's duckanoes which this question called up. "No, Broder, de boy got a good twis* [164I Nana Gives up Hope and the Parson [appetite], an' las' night he eat off ten duckanoe. " The parson threw up his hands in pious horror. "Ten, did you say. Nana?" ''Yes, ten of dem, besides fish an' cocoa." "Dere is no hope. Nana, no hope, for one dat is gluttonous cannot become a preacher He mus' Hrs' desire to live like de prophet m de wilderness, takin' only w'at de Lard sen' him by de ravens. Mrs. Dreckett, stnve no longer wid de boy but let him larn a trade; dat is de bes' fing you can do, else might you' gran'son become like unto de false prophets who prophesy foolishness." As the old woman listened to this verdict her heart rose up in rebellion and her mind classed the parson with the false prophets of which he had just spoken. After a few moments of silence she said: "Will you have some of de duckanoe I meek for Quamin, Parson Blackgrove, beiore you go?" [165] The Story of Quainin " T'ank you kindly, ma'm, " he replied with alacrity. "I could eat some wid pleasure." "Den go somew'eres else w'ere dere is raven to feed you. I doan has none in dis house." Saying which, Nana, with flashing eyes, rose and seizing the chair on which the parson sat. upset its occupant on to the foor. Too much amazed to protest, he hastily picked himself up and walked away to the tree on which his mule was tethered. Without even a look in Nana Dreckett s direction, he mounted and rode away and the old woman, left alone, sat down to think the matter over. Having discovered Parson Blackgrove's duplicity, her admiration turned to hatred and she was now almost glad that Quamin had none of the qualifications for a preacher. "Dem is all w'ited sepulchre dat goeth about seekin- who dey can devour, an' I may as well put de boy to a good trade at once an- Jone wid it." muttered the old [166] Nana Gives up Hop e and the Parson woman to herself, and Quamin on his return was electrified with the news of her changed intentions. "But Grannie, I doan want no trade. Meek me go back to work for Godpa; him want me an' I can do dat work widouten larnin'. " But Nana steeled her heart, remembering the sad outcome of Quamin's pennkeeping on a former occasion. "No, me boy, you not goin' to get into any more trouble frough horse ridin' like las' time; I will teck care of dat." Fortunately Quamin was young and there was no hurry, so the boy could stay with her for the present and help with the ground and other matters of a similar nature. This would give her time to decide on a suitable trade and find a teacher for him. This arrangement suited the boy who found a considerable amount of time to spend with Constantine on the penn where he was of ten called upon to fill temporarily the place [167] The Story of Quamin of some one of the penn hands, absent thiough illness, fancied or real. On these occasions Quamin indulged to the full his love of riding which had grown and intensified, having been unattainable at Negril. Quasheba would have liked to foUow her old playmate around as of yore, but already the serious duties of life had descended upon her for Rachel had developed an incurable disease which weU-nigh disabled her, and Cousin 'Lizbet' was too old to do much work. Quasheba had to bring provisions from the ground, cook the scanty meals, and feed the pigs as weU as wash for the family. This latter duty was, in truth, not heavy as these T-romen of the tropics wore but little clothmg; still for a child of fifteen the life was a fairly busy one and she would find time only in the ewning to run over to Nana Drecketfs for a chat with Quamin, unless he came to see her, which happened quite frequently. On one of these occasions the talk turned [168] Nana Gives up Hope and the Parson upon Harry whose mother and father had both died and who had immediately left for the Bay in search of the long wished for trtde, and beyond the fact that he had become apprenticed to a tailor, nothing had been heard of him since. "But one gal tell me dat she hear he is comin' up dis way soon, so perhaps you will see de RowKn' Calf agen, Quamin," said Quasheba. "So you doan forget 'bout dat yet, eh? Dat was true RowUn' Calf, Quasheba, an' not Harry at all. " "How you know?" queried the little girl brusquely. "I doan know how I know, but I know; dat 's all, "replied the boy a trifle offended, but Quiwheba only sucked her teeth and tossed her head. She was not to be so easily convinced. "Den how you know. Miss Wiseman?' he asked in return. "I doan know how I know, but I know!" [169I V • The Story of Quamin mockingly replied she, and Quamin, quite offended now, walked off in the direction of home without even a good-night word. One evening some months later, as Qua- sheba stood upon the railing of the pig-pen to pour the contents of a tin bucket which she carried into the trough, a familiar voice accosted her. "Good-evenin', Quasheba." She turned with a start to see Harry stand- ing a few feet away, dressed even better than Quamin had been on his return from Negril and smiling cynically. "Were you come from?" demanded the girl shortly. "Come from the Bay, of course, an' jus' on purpose to see you, me dear." "I doan you dear an' I won't meek you call me dat, Missa Rowlin' Calf. " Harry's face grew dark with anger, but he controlled himself and laughed a short forced laugh. "So you doan get over dat nonsense yet! [170] Nana Gives up Hope and the Parson Well, I suppose you can't help bein' ignorant how you live all rickety bed, i ^h like a large box on four posts, occupied one comer; in another stood a rocking chau-, or rather the skeleton of one, for the wicker seat and back had disappeared leaving behind a few straggling wisps of cane; and a table, black as night and spotted from end to end. This table was of solid mahogany and the tailor's apprentice had bought it for a mere song from an old woman in the Bay to whom it had come through the misfortune of the house where she had once served. This wr.s all the furniture, unless the two empty salt-fish loxes on which the boys sat might be reckoned as such, and the room was lighted by two jalousies, or shutter windows, both of which were in dilapidated keeping with the rest; still Quamin had not been used to much better and felt a thrill of joy as he remembered that he was now free from the vigilance of his grandmother [176I and able to follow pretty much his own devices. When they were somewhat rested, the boys began to realise that, having eaten httle as yet that day, they were hungry and Quamin followed Harry outside where, at the back of the houso, the rustic fireplace of three large ..ones forming a triangle was soon filled with brambles and a brisk fire started. A sump. s dinner of salt fish and cocoas boiled tog. ■ ,r satisfied their hunger, and being still VL ' tired after the long walk the two turned into bed just at sunset. No evil dreams disturbed either of them and they woke with a start to find the sun shining through the broken jalousies right into their faces. "Get up, Quamin!" said Harry, "for I mus" go to de shop before eight o'clock." Quamin jumped out of bed and drawing on his trousers took a tin dipper and an old towe! and ran down to the sea-shore at the I«7?J back of the house, where he hurriedly washed his face and hands in the salt water. To light the fire once more was the work of a few moments and this time a little coffee and stale bun was all the boys needed. It was just half past seven when Harry and his prot^g^ arrived at the shop where the tailor was already busily at work. Mr. Fernandez, a small mulatto man, in whose veins flowed some of the grandee blood of Spain, looked at Quamin sharply frou. under his spectacles as the boy was intro- duced by the apprentice. Evidently the in- vestigation satisfied the tailor who, without asking any questions, put into Quamin's hand a sharp penknife with instructions to rip a coat which he handed at the same time to the boy. Quamin took the garment, and seating himself cross-legged on the floor, went to work with such good will that when the day's work was done Fernandez offered to engage the new apprentice at a small weekly wage. I178] The Bay Quamin was delighted at his success; the busy life of the town was most acceptable to his restless nature and he was enchanted at the prospect of remaining amid its mani- fold attractions. When Sunday came round, the boy from the mountains, according to custom, dressed himself for church, while Harry declared his intention of visiting a friend who Uved some twelve miles distant from the Bay; so Quamin had to set out alone to encounter the many inquiring, curious glances cast at him by the rest of the congregation who knew him to be a stranger. He entered the church timidly, waiting for the beadle to appoint him a seat, and when the one selected by the tall, thin old negro in the tight black gown proved to be near the door, the boy was glad since from thence he could see the people come in, and also watch the horses under the belfry shed where they patiently waited for the close of the service to take their owners home. [179I The Story of Quamin On a little bench which stood against the door, three little negroes sat: a boy and two girls who kept their eyes fastened on the beadle. When he was in sight their be- haviour was exemplary and their eyes rolled up to the ceiling in steadfast devotion; but the moment his back was turned, they began an animated conversation. By the time the sermon had begun they were showing signs of weariness, and before it was half finished had fallen asleep, leaning heavily on one another. Their repose was short, however, for a stray goat with an inquisitive disposition stole up to the door, and would have entered had not the beadle's eagle eye detected its intention. Rising, he stalked across the church and the goat fled with a frightened "Bah!" just as the long staff would have descended upon its back. The dignified old man stood a moment scowling at the animal who had taken refuge in the church yard, then turning to resume ti8o] The Bay his seat, caught sight of the sleepers. Down came the staff on the head of each offender in succession, and the children, less fortunate than the goat, sat up ti Mi a start and rubbed their sore heads. Quamin pitied them but could not help smiling at the sight of their pouting lips and the angry looks they cast at the beadle. The service being now over, he rose and went out with the rest of the congregation and at the gate was surprised to find Harry and a girl whom he recognised as a cake- seller of the Bay, in earnest conversation. Harry greeted his friend with a nod, while Cubenna, his companion, tossed her heac contemptuously and continued her conver- sation. Quamin, taking the hint that he was not wanted, returned Harry's nod and passed them by in silence. This girl soon became a constant visitor at the home of the boys and for some time Quamin had taken her arrival as the signal for his departure; but when the visits became [I8l] The Story of Quamin a daily occurrence, he rebelled. He was paying half the rent of the room and was therefore entitled to remain in it according to his own convenience; so when she came again he did not leave, and staying, made a discovery that astonished him. Harry and the girl, after waiting patiently for some time to see if Quamin would go and finally deciding that he had no such intention, held a whispered consultation which resulted in Harry bringing from a deal box hidden under the bed, a pack of cards and a bottle of rum. The two sat gambling and drinking until Harry had lost his week's wages to his com- panion, then he rose and putting away the cards and bottle, went out with the girl into the night. For some time Quamin refused all invi- tations to join in these orgies, but he was after all only human, and at last they had their way as far as gambling went, but with rum they could not tempt him. [182] The Bay One evening while the three were deep in a game of cards, there came a knock at the door; Harry opened it and in walked a short, thick-set sailor with a pair of blue serge trousers ■ er his arm. "Good-evening, Mr. Harry, I hope I don't intrude?" he said with a look and sly wink at the other two seated at the table. "No, sah, no Missa Jacob," said Harry closing the door, "please sit down, sah?" he continued, pointing to the seatless chair. The sailor laughed and picking up a board which lay by the chair and was meant for that purpose, placed it across the seat and sat down carefully. "I want you to mend these trousers for me; can you do it and let me have them by mid-day to-morrow?" "Oh! yes, sah. I sure can do dat. Meek me see dem, sah?" The sailor threw the trousers over to Harry who after examining them again assured their owner that they could be easily mended (183] t; The Story of Quamin by the time required. Then he invited Mr. Jacob to try his hand at a game of cards to which the sailor readily agreed, only stipulat- ing that he must leave at nine o'clock, that being the hour he was due on board his boat now riding at anchor in the harbour. After a few games had been played of which Quamin had been most frequently the winner, Harry produced the bottle of rum, while Cubenna, at his bidding, collected all the drinking utensils and dipped up some fresh water from the pail with a quart jug. Mr. Jacob accepted his grog without hesita- tion, but when Harry pushed a can of the same to Quamin, the boy shook his head, saying: "You know dat I doan drink rum." The sailor laughed derisively and Harry and Cubenna joined in. "You know, Missa Jacob, Quamin goin' turn parson as soon as him done lam de tailor- in' business, so of course him earn drink rum." [184] "My boy," said Mr. Jacob solemnly as he drained his mug, "you will never be a man until you know the taste of spirits; just try it and see." He put his hand affectionately on Quamin's shoulder and the boy could not resist the white man's influence. Timidly he raised the tin mug to his lips and tasting found it good, but fearful of its effects which he had seen more than once on Harry and Cubenna, drank only half the contents of the cup, and the game went merrily on. Again Harry passed the drink around and Quamin's cup, now empty, was filled without protest, for the boy was already weU under the influence of liquor and no longer aware of how much he was drinking. At last, unable to play any longer, he threw his cards on the table and rising staggered away to the bed, seeing which Harry's eyes shone with triumph. The boy lay in a drunken sleep while the other three kept the game going far into the (185] The Story of Quamin night, sometimes one winning, sometimes the other until the sailor had lost all the money he carried with the exception of a few Spanish coins from Brazil, and in drunken anger accused Harry of cheating. A quarrel quickly arose and the two men were soon fighting like wild beasts. The sailor being by far the more powerful would have surely got the better of his antagonist had he been less drunk, and even as it was, Harry's strength, never very remarkable, was giving out when Cubenna, who had watched the fight from a far comer of the room, ran forward, a long butcher knife belonging to Quamin in her hand. The tailor's apprentice grasped the weapon and sent it up to the hilt in the body of his antagonist. With a groan the sailor fell dead to the floor, while Harry stood over him, the drip- ping knife still in his hand. Suddenly he gave a cry of fear as the realisation of what he had done came to him. [I86l The Bay " Cubenna ! Cubenna ! " he called in a hoarse whisper, "I kill him!" The girl stood looking down at the dead man, then she kicked the corpse with her bare foot saying: "Wat matter if you do so long as nobody doanknow 'bout it? We mus ' hide de body dat'sall." "But how we goin' to hide it?" asked the man, unable to devise any helpful plan. "Come meek we bury it at de sea-shore," said the girl, "de night is so dark dat not a soul goin' see we, an' I wiU help you carry him down. " So saying, she stooped and rifling the corpse of a silver watch and the Brazilian gold, took hold of the dead man's feet, motioning Harry to his head. Thus they made their way through the darkness of tue night with many stumbles to the sea-shore, where their burden was deposited while they sought a suitable spot for the grave; this they found in some soft sand overgrown with vines. With [187] The Story of Quarnin the hoe and machettc which Cubenna quickly brought from the house, they soon had a shallow grave dug, the dead man was lifted in, his body pinned to the ground by a stake driven through the middle of it, and covered with sand; the vines were carefully replaced and the two returned to the house to remove all further traces of the murder. While they were wiping the blood from the rough floor, a bright idea came to Cubenna. SpeaJdng in a whisper that she might not waken Quamin, she said: "Meek we go 'way to-night, den w'en mamin' come you can come back an' if dem ask you, say you know not'ing 'bout de business. De ship goin' to sail at daylight and perhaps deir'. doan bodder to come look for de sailor man again." Harry consented to this plan and the two hurriedly finished their cleaning and throwing the blood-stained house-cloth into the sea, they washed from their hands all traces of [188] the horrible deed and quietly crept away in the darkness. The ship did not sail away at daylight as Cubenna had expected, and when Harry returned to the house early in the morning, he found an officer from the Salome knock- ing at the door. As he came up the officer asked if this was where a tailor's apprentice named Harry Murdoch lived. " I am de apprentice, sah. " said the mulatto opening the door and stepping inside. The officer followed him. "Did a sailor named Jacob come to you last evening with a pair of trousers to be mended?" "Yes, sah; here is de trousers, sah," he said, picking up the garment frora where it stiU lay on the arm of the rocking chair. "Yes, those are the very ones. Now can you tell me where Jacob went after he left here?" [189] The Story of Quamin A grey shade crept over the guilty man's face, but he answered boldly: "No, sah. Missa Jacob an' Quamin did begin to play card an' Missa Jacob get vex because he say Quamin was cheating him an' dem was on strong quarrelling w'en I lef to go see one of me frien'." " Who is Quamin? " tuisked the oflScer mysti- fied. "See him lying down dere in de bed, sah. I t'ink Quamin drink too much rum las' night an' him sleepin' still." The officer went over to the bed and shook Quamin roughly by the shoulder. "Here, wake up and tell me what became of Jacob after he left you?" The boy sat up slowly and put his hand to his head. His face was swollen, his eyes bloodshot, and the sight of the officer startled him. In answer to the question put to him Quamin could only recall the fact that he had been playing cards with Harry and Cu- benna and the sailor when a deadly sickness [190] The Bay seized him and stumbling to the bed he had lapsed into unconsciousness. As Harry listened to this, he laughed mockingly and turning to the officer said: "De boy drunk still, sah, for Cubenna wasn't here at all las' night." Quamin stared stupidly at Harry as though trying to decide whether this was lying on the part of his friend or his own memory at fault. Just then the officer caught sight of the butcher knife which had been overlooked by the girl and the man the night before, and lay on the floor a blood-stained and tragic witness to the murder. The officer wheeled round to Harry and pointing to the door said: "Go and tell the Inspector that I want him here at once. " The boy obeyed without question, and in a few minutes returned with the head of the police force and his pet bull-dog. "Good-morning, sir, good-morning!" he (191J The Story of Quamin said, saluting the officer of marines. " What is the trouble?" As he listened to the story, his somewhat debonair manner changed to one of stern interest. "We must search the premises," he said, and leaving Harry to keep guard over the suspected murderer, the two officers ransacked the room, discovering the blood-staim ^ spot which Cube, -.a had only partially cleaned. The bull-dog sniffing at the spot, howled dolefully, and running to the door leading to the beach, tried to push it open with his fore paws. The Inspector opened it and the dog bounded out and followed the pcth to the sea, where he ran about whining with his nose to the ground. At last he found where the dead man lay buried and began scratching the sand away. The Inspector cast a significant look at the officer as they hastened to the spot. The grave, hastily made, was not [192] The Bay deep and soon they had fount! vl-a.t they sought, a gruesome sight enough. The case came before the courts and on the day of the trial Quamin stood in the docks, his eyes riveted to the ground, for he dared not look at the little group of broken-hearted friends who waited in miserable anxiety. At last the judge rose. "Daniel Belteshazzar Fielding, you are found guilty of murder. " There was a scream and confusion in one corner of the court room, then two constables lifted Nana Dreckett from where she had fallen and carried her out. Quasheba, who was with her, did not fol- low them, but remained chained to the spot. She must hear it all to the bitter end; must be there to send a last loving look at the prisoner before he was taken out. In reply to the judge's question if he had anything to say in his own defence, Quamin hesitated for a moment, then in a scarcely audible voice murmured rather than said, (•93) The Story of Quamin " Not guilty, you' Honour, " but in truth he was by no means sure of his own innocence and rendered doubly miserable by the doubt. The judge stood irresolute, then proceeded with the sentence. The prisoner had been recommended to the mercy of the court in consideration of his youth and former good character, therefore the sentence had been commuted to life imprisonment. With his head still drooping, the boy was walked away between two constables through the throngs of people who had collected to hear the case, to the sea-shore where a boat waited to row him out to the coastal steamer bound for Kingston. A few yards from the shore the prisoner turned to take a farewell look at the white streets of the town where he had found both pleasure and misery. Catching sight of Qua- sheba, he lifted his manacled hands and tried to wave to her, while the girl, drowned in tears, dragged the bandanna handkerchief from her head and returned his salutation. [194] Ifc. Once on board the boat, he was locked into a cabm to which he had been conducted by one of the constai !es and a ship's officer. As they were leaving the cabin the latter said to the constable: "What about that port-hole?" ''Oh! dat is all right, sah," replied the other, "him is from de mountains an' earn swim even if him could get t 'rough de port- hole. " The officer was satisfied, and going out turned the key in the lock. Quamin, left to himself, bowed his head upon his hands and gave way to the misery which possessed his soul. He almost wished the judge had condemned him to death, for the thought of a life spent behind the bars of a prison appalled this wild, freedom loving boy. His grandmother's scream still rang in his ears and Quasheba's tear-stained face haunted him. How long he sat thus he knew not, but the turning of the key in the lock roused him [195] The Story of Quamin as me of the constables came in with his evening allowance of bread and water. No words were exchanged but the man pitied the boy while not daring to show his feel- ings. Quamin tried to swallow a piece of bread but it was of no use and he threw it back on the tin plate and once more lost himself in thought. The ship's bells had struck the hour of midnight and still Quamin had not moved; then the voice of the officer who had locked him into his cabin prison rang out on the clear night air. Quamin started. The con- versation about the port-hole recurred to his memory and with it came an inspiration. With something like his old energy, the prisoner jumped to his feet and measuring on his arm the width of the port-hole, laid his improvised yard-stick across his chest and smiled joyously to see that th( space wouii admit of his body passing through with a little squeezing. Quickly he stripped him- [1961 The Bay self and tying his shirt and trousers, the only articles of clothing that he wore, in a tight bundle, he took this between his teeth and swinging himself feet first through the narrow opening, dropped gently into the moonlit sea, without arousing the officer on the bridge, and nothing was known of the prisoner's escape until morning showed the empty cabin. [1971 1 XVI The Shop Changes Hands ^^EARS had passed since Quamin's con- * demnation and no trace of him having been found, the matter passed into the back- ground of all memories excepting those to whom the boy had been very dear. Nana Dreckett recovered from the illness which followed the trial, and wont about her duties much as usual, but she stooped a little now and never went far without a stout walking stick to lean upon. Constantino came often to see her and the talk almost always turned upon the dead boy, for such they believed Quamin to be. The affair had been clothed in mystery and there were some among the dwellers in the hills who had openly expressed dissatisfaction at the course taken by justice. I198I The Shop Changes Hands Harry had never been a favourite with them, and at his door some of the blame for Quamin's arrest had been laid; therefore when one day Barabas returned from the Bay with the news that Harry and Cubenna, now his wife, had bought the shop at the cross- roads and would instal themselves there shortly, the information was received with cold surprise. The shopkeeper's life became a burden un- der the running fire of questions to which he was subjected by his customers and all the explanation that he had to give was that Harry had offered him good money for the shop of which he was tired and wanted a change. To Quasheba the coming of Harry and "dat yallah snake," as she designated Cu- benna, was a veritable misfortune for she would have no choice but to patronise them, since the shop was the only one of its kind within miles. Barabai., now head pennkeeper in place of [199I The Story of Quamin Samuel, married and gone to another part of the Island, was one of the girl's most devoted admirers and came in very handy now to run errands for her since she had determined never to enter the premises of her enemies unless forced to do so. He came every night *-o see the lady of his love and tell her all the local gossip, never murmiuing when, in return, she only con- verted him into an errand boy. Sitting together one night at the door of the house, Barabas remarked: "You know, Quasheba, dem say dat Harry is as rich as de King of Englan'." The girl sucked her teeth scornfully. " Dem too fool; tell me w'ere him could get so much money?" "Dem say him fin' one of ^-^ ole Spaniard jar bury in de yard of him house an' it did full of gol' money." "I believe dem is tellin' lie, for if Harry ever fin' a t'ing like dat, him would n' res' (200] The Shop Chang es Hands till him show it to everybody to meek dem see how smart him is." " But him show two of de gol ' piece to some man at de shop an' dem say is Spaniard gol • for true. Go ask Busha den if you doan be- lieve me, for de man dem tell him 'bout it too. " "De firs' time I see Cousin Constantino I gom' to ask him, because Harry was Boas'ie Gordon boas' puss from time an' maybe him t lef de money but him never fin' no Spaniard jar." " AU right, missis, hab it you' own fashion " rephed the long-suffering Barabas rising to go 'me only teUin' you w'at me hoar." Long after her lover had gone Quasheba sat lost in thought. Barabas had whetted her curiosity and she longed to get a peep at those golden coins buried long ago at the time of the English occupation, by some wealthy Spamard; so ran the negro superstition, and in spite of her asserted disbelief in the story the giri did not discredit the possibility of such a find, and burned to know more. [201J It 11 i The Story of Quamin When, therefore, Barabas called again, he was surprised that Quasheba bad no com- missions for him to execute at the shop, but she did not revert to their conversation of the evening before and he left her little dreaming that there was any connec- tion. The next afternoon Quasheba dressed her- self carefully and as well as her limited ward- robe permitted and with a .'iilling tied in the comer of her handkcrchiei , set out to make a few small purchases at the shop. Con- sidering all the trouble she had taken with her toilet, it was disappointing to find no one there but a little coloured boy, who neverthe- less served her deftly, and just as she was about to leave the place, a question occur- red to her. " Who live in dat new house de oder side of de gully over dere?" " Dat is Missa Murdoch house, ma'm," the boy replied and Quasheba hesitated a moment as though about to ask for more information, [202] m The Shop Change s Hands but thinking better of it. she wished the boy a curt good-evening and went out. A bar of soap was among her purchases and th.s the boy had wrapped in a piece of gaily coloured paper, the brilliancy of which caught Quashcba's eye. She carefully removed the paper and smoothing out the creases, gazed m wonder and amusement at the picture of a jack-lantern which it displayed. "Dis come out of Big Miss-'s' gran 'chile book, dat I know; but Lard! de some'ting ugly for true an' 'nough to frighten any pick- 'ney an' give him fits." Looking up she spied Barabas who. as usual at this hour, was on his way to the evemng tryst, and leisurely the girl replaced the paper round the soap, not wishing to attract the man's attention to her action. "How come you to go to de shop you 'self to-night, Quasheba?" he asked. "Oh! me moder teck a fancy for arrowroot pap; you know she well mack-an-peckish. [fanciful] now, an' I could n' wait till to- [203] The Story of Quamin marra for you to buy it for me, so has to go meself." "Wat Harry an* de yallah snake say to you?" inquired the man. "I did n' see eider of dem. De boy sarvo me an' him tell me dat de new house over de gully belongs to Harry." "Yes, an' I hear dat dere is wonderful t'ings doin' in dat house after dark." "Wat sort of t'ings?" asked the girl quickly. " I doan know rightly meself, but you know Harry is a sort of obeahman, an' I hear dat him an' him wife 'pon strong countin' of de Spaniard money every night since dem come an' cam finish it yet." "Lard!" exclaimed Quasheba, impressed in spite of herself. She was very thoughtful the rest of the way home, answering her lover in monosyllables, and when they reached the house, left him abruptly, to attend to the wants of her mother and grandmother, she said. [204] He sat on the bench outside the house smok.ng and meditating on the ways of wonjen in general and this one in particular unfl she reappeared, smiling now, and seated herself beside him. Barabas- hopes rose at a bound. He had never known Quasheba like this before and wondered :f this ehangeableness betokened the dawn of love. Timidly he slipped his arm round her waist and contrary to custom, she let it stay there. The opportunity now seemed too good to be OS .and Quasheba listened in demure silence to the love-making of this primitive man. Will yo r,;,;,,.,^ ^g_ Quasheba.'" he asked at 1. .,„,,,,, ,^^,.^^ ^^^^ ^j^. going a „tt,e too far. farther at any rate than she ^altogether hked. drew away from him "I doan know 'bout dat now. You mus' wait firs . "All right, me dear," said the lover, sure enough of his game to be willing to wait if The Story of Quamin (! that was what his mistress' desired, and rose to go. Grown bold, he stooped and kissed her without leave. Quasheba qmckly drew her sleeve across her lips, but said nothing, and on his next visit he would have greeted her in Uke manner but the girl waved him off. "Pramise me somet'ing firs'" she com- manded. "Wat is it?" he asked. "Guess," said she. " I doan know w 'at you want me to pramise you, onless you jealous o£ how I go to see Janet Lacklin an' doan want me to go derc no more," smilingly said the too confident Barabas, but Quasheba sucked her teeth and tossed her head disdainfully. "Me jealous! you will never see dat day! I want you to do somet'ing for me." "Tell me w'at it is?" queried the man, a little disappointed, "an" if I can do it, I will." " Go to de gully wid me to-night, " said the girl boldly, watching his face the while. [206] The S ,p Changes Hands "Go to de gully wid you to-night?" he repeated incredulously. " W 'at you want to go to de gully for?" "Never min'. Say you wiU go an' den you will fin' out." "All right, if you want to go, but I doan has no fancy for dat duppy walk at all, at all at night time." " Well, I goin • see w -at Harry an ■ de yallah snake doin' an' I goin' watch dem t 'rough dat winder dat doan finish yet." Barabas gasped. "Lard a' massey! Quasheba, you mus' be makin' poppyshow w'en you say dat; I doan beheve say you mean it." "I mean it for true; but if you 'fraid to come, say so at once an' I will go by meself an' you can go 'bout you' business." The girl indignantly turned on her hee' and was about to enter the house when Bara- bas stopped her. "Quasheba, I will go wid you but you know if Harry fin' out, him will set I207J ■ I . The Story of Quamin obeah for we, an' den we jus' as good as dead." "Chow! Harry know as much 'bout obeah as me grannie mauger goat. You comin' or not?" "Yes, I comin'," meekly responded the man. She went into the house once again and came out deltly balancing on her head a bundle and carrying an umbrella. "Wat you got in de bundle?" asked her lover. "Shut you' mout' an' pull you' foot [walk fast], " she exclaimed, and they started out at a brisk pace. By the time the gully was reached it had grown dark and Quasheba was suffering in- ward qualms, but she kept them to herself and assimied a fine scorn of Barabas' evident palpitations. Down the side of the gully they scrambled, the bundle still balanced on the girl's head, across the rocky ravine which after a heavy [jo8l The Shop Chan ges Hands rain became a raging torrent, and up the steep bank on the other side where stood the hut. A gleam of light shone between the wattled waUs, and the two creeping cautiously by came to a halt behind some immense tree ferns. Here Quasheba lifted the bundle from her head and proceeded to loosen it. Barabas watched her curiously and his wonder grew as she drew forth a white sheet, a large calabash with a face cut on it, after the manner of a jack-lantern, and a box of matches. Taking a piece of sheer white material from the bosom of her dress, she tied it over the calabash, then striking a match, she lit a small piece of a candle, set It m the calabash and turned the ghastly object towards Barabas. The man yelled, but quickly recovering himself, put his hand over his mouth to keep himself quiet, while Quasheba scolded him in a wrathful whisper. The door of the hut opened and Harry peeped cautiously out. [ao9l The Story of Quamin "Bery well! bery well! me did tell you so." Whispered Quasheba. "You see dat now? If you goin' to bawl like jackass lost him moder, you better go home." "I won't bawl again, Quasheba, but de contraption dat ugly I could n't help meself . " The door was closed again and Quasheba, feeling safe once more, threw the sheet over the tip of '.e umbrelk which she inserted into a hole Iri the lantern made for the purpose. Opening the umbrella, she held it over her head and the drooping sheet covered her dress to the hem. Upon Barabas a light had broken, and he now watched Quasheba with undisguised admiration. "Now come wid me," she said, and to- gether they crept softly towards the hut, stop- ping close by the unfinished window. The hut had been hurriedly built, Harry explaining that it was only for their temporary use, and the wattled walls none too closely woven. Through one of these spaces Quasheba, the [210I lkt&- The Shop Changes Hands umbrella frame resting on her head, che sheet throwr up in front, could watch what went on mside. while Barabas was busy at another peep-hole. The mulatto and his wife were sitting one on either side of a rough deal table on which lay a silver watch and a few golden coins, and to the astonishment of the listeners, they learned that these two. reputed so wealthy were, m truth, poor and deeply i„ debt to the merchant in the Bay from whom Harry had replenished the stock at the shop. They were now anxiously trying to decide how they could change into native coinage the gold that lay on the table. _ " You t -ink," said Cubenna, "dat if we teck .t to de Bay an' tell dem we fin' it bury up here m de mountain, dem will believe we?" "I doan know 'bout dat. for I never hear no talk -bout findin' Spaniard jar in de moun- tam. an' if dem did n't believe we an' ask too much question, we might get into trouble." 'Den w'at \\e goin' to do?" [211] The Story of Quamin "I doan know, onless we go on board one steamer an' try to sell dem to de Bostan touris' dem." " Ahi ! so for true, we can do dat. Meek we go soon, Harry." "We goin' to-marra, bitt you know we has to 'teck softly softly ketch monkey,'" her husband said, using a well known negro proverb which translated means, "slow and sure win the day. " " Perhaps we could sell de watch too, " said Cubenna, taking it up and examining it. "No," replied her husband, "Missa Jacob name write 'pon de case an' if any of dem people in de Bay fin' out dat we got dat watch, we free paper bum, missis, an' dem would n' teck long to fin' out is me an' not Quamin dat kill him." Quasheba had heard every word of this dialogue and trembled so that her knees knocked together. Plucking at Barabas' sleeve, she whispered: "You hear w'at dem say?" [2121 The Shop Changes Hands The man nodded and continued to Usten while Quasheba. her heart beating to suffoca- tion, returned her eyes to the hole. Harry gathered up the coins and watch and put them into a small iron box which he locked away in a trunk. The rum bottle was now brought to light and the two fell to drinking. For a long time the eavesdroppers waited, but when it became evident that no more in- formation would be forthcoming, Quasheba. whose composure had returned, Ufted the draped umbrella and calabash head to the window, at the same time uttering stifled moans. Cubenna, who had been sitting with her back to the window, looked around quickly and encountering the ghostly object with its gnnmng fiery teeth, screamed, and Harry looking up hastily, saw what he took to be the sailor's ghost come to haunt him, and dived under the bed. Cubenna sat huddled up on her seat, too [313] The Story of Quamin frightened to do more than turn her back on the ghost who, after folding and unfolding its arms a few times, uttered a piercing shriek and disappeared. Quasheba emerged from beneath her dis- guise laughing at the remembrance of Harry's legs sticking out from under the bed, and Cubenna's co*ering form. "Lard! Barabas, w'ere is you' obeahman now?" she asked as they hurried back to the sheltering tree ferns. "Quasheba, I never see a woman so strong- physic strong-minded] as you from I bom!" he exclaimed. "But meek has* an' come home for rain fallin' already an' big storm comin'." It was the work of a minute to make the sheet and calabash again into a bundle and the two started on their homeward way. Long before they reached Cousin 'Lizbet's house, the storm had broken and both were drenched to the skin. "You can sleep in de kitchen, so no use [214] The Shop Changes Hands you go home to get drown altogedder " said Quasheba, and Barabas, only too glad to be spared the long walk to his own house in the darkness and storm, accepted gladly. The hurricane of that night was the worst that the Island had known for many years and there was little sleep for the community who. seeing it coming, had weighted the thatched roofs of their cottages with heavy stones, in spite of which many of them had been blown away. Quasheba was early astir next morning to get Barabas some hot sugar and water before he left, and Cousin 'Lizbef who had slept httle and pondered much during the night watches on her granddaughter's absence of the evemng before, was also up and doing, just m time to see Barabas disappearing over the brow of the hill on which the cottage stood. "Wat you doin- out so late, las' night. Quasheba?" she demanded sternly as the giri came in. surprised to find the old woman up. -t The Story of Quamin " I did go to de shop, Grannie, an' de rain ketch me half way home, so I has to save wedder [seek shelter] in one house on de road- side. " "Did you have anybody wid you?" "No, Grannie; only me one, an' I mos' frighten to deaf wid de noise de t'under meckin'." " Chile, you tellin' lie, for I hear you talkin' to somebody w'en you come in an' I jus' see Barabas gone down de hillside." Quasheba, like the rest of humanity, hated to be caught in a lie, and brushed rudely past her grandmother into the house, mutter- ing: "C!e woman always know so much!" "Cubenna! Cubenna!" came a timid whisper from under the bed, "it gone yet?" " Yes, " replied his wife ' but who know if it comin' back or not?" "Doan say so, Cubenna," pleaded Harry [216! The Shop Changes Hands in anguish at the horrid possibility; "give me a drink. " Cubenna stooped and handed the bottle to her husband who was still concealed under the bed. and for the next half hour the woman sat gazing with dread at the window. The wind was now rising, and every time U blew past the hut. the little half finished dwelling rocked in an alarming manner, and Cubenna was groi^-ing afraid to remain in it any longer. "Harry," she called, "meek we go outside before de house tumble down." But only the heavy snoring of her husband answered her. and rising she crept timidly to the door. It was not the storm she feared, but the reappearance of the "duppy" who might be lurking around still. She opened the door quietly and peeped out. but there was nothing save the heavy ramdrops and sighing wind to greet her. and mto this she stepped bravely enough. Just then a gust heavier than the rest U17J The Story of Quamin blew against the hut and with a noise as of tearing wood, it fell to the ground in ruins. The woman fled shrieking into the darkness and down the bank of the gully, nv-., realising in her frenzied condition the dangers of such a course. The next day, when the storm had cleared away, she was found lying at the bottom of the guiiv, ''Mwned, her wet garments wound round tfcc stem of a sapling, while the body of her husband lay buried beneath the debris of the ruined hut. [ai8] XVII The EzQe DELIEVING Quamin dead. „o effort was made to find him and the young fellow might never have known that the ban of murderer had been lifted from him had not a tnflmg incident revealed the truth. Once over the side of the steamer, he had swum under water for a short distance to escape the observation of the officer on the bndge, then striking out boldly for the shore reached it in a state of exhaustion, for the distance traver^ had been no mean one. Restmg on the sandy beach, he tried to decide upon his future course of action. He concluded that it would be necessary to keep close to the sea-shore where he could always get fish, and when daylight broke, he found to his great jc-y a cave beneath a pro- big) ^1: The Story of Quamin jecting rock in which he might lie for ever hidden. Close by was a grove of thatch palms, and with the leaves of these he soon made a fish pot which he set, wading as far out as he could, then returning spread his clothes on the palm trees to dry and retired to the re- cesses of the' cave until night-fall. Thus he lived for two months, and then, judging that search for him would have been abandoned, he decided to make his way along the coast to Montego Bay, where a steamer might be found to take him to Colon. The way was long and Quamin found it hard work tramping at night and living on the fruit he might steal or the fish he might catch, but at last Montego Bay was reached and fortune favoured him. A Royal Mail steamer was making ready to depart, first to England, then back by way of New York to Colon, the place he had hit upon as being most likely to afford him shelter. She was short of hands and when she steamed out [220] The Exile of harbour, Quamin went with her, a duly enrolled member of the crew. With his usual adaptibility, the boy had fitted very comfortably into life at busy Colon, but had never ceased to mourn his ostracism from the place of his birth and the heart of his friends, and every time that a steamer was reported coming from Jamaica, he would go down to the wharf, and himself hidden, for he still dreaded detection, would watch the passengers landing, eageriy scan- ning each face, hoping yet dreading to see a familiar one among them. On one such occasion he had left his vantage ground and was following the last passenger up the street when a newspaper fell from the over-laden hand of the latter. Quamin quickly picked it up and politely handed it to the gentleman who, with a glance at the paper said, " I don't want it, my good fellow," and passed on. Eagerly the boy opened the paper, for news from Jamaica was scarce indeed and [mi] t - ' The Story of Quamin the first thing that met his eye was a bold headline, "Daniel Belteshazzar Fielding not Guilty." Greedily the boy read on, the whole story of the discovery of Harry's guilt and consequent establishment of his own innocence; then the paper fell from his hand, and divested now of that gravity of de- meanour which had marked his bearing during his term of exile, the young man reverted in a flash to the old joyous ways of early boy- hood and there in the public street stood on his head for joy. To pack his belongings was the work of a few moments, and the good ship which had brought him news of his freedom carried Daniel Belteshazzar Fielding back to Jamaica, a passenger this time with a well filled purse, for money had been easy to get in Colon. [222] U' m XVIII The Retura "you know," said Constantine to his * sister when on a visit to her a few days after Quamin had set sail from Colon "dis mamin' Big Missis show me a strange fing in de papers. She show me de same name as Quamin got on Je lis' of passenger on one of de boat. Now how come dat?" Nana Dreckett, who had Ustened with in- terest, shook her head slowly, saying despond- ently: "I doan know, for I meek up dat name for meself out of de Book an' give it to Quamin. " Suddenly her manner changed and she turned to her brother in great excite- ment. "Bredda, you fink say Quamin Uvin'?" [223I isl^l^. ^- The Story of Quamin The man shook his head and taking tho pipe from his mouth, answered slowly: "No, Nana, Quamin is wid de Lard." The voice of Quasheba talking to her grand- mother as she helped the old woman along, afforded a break in the conversation and Nana rose to greet her old friend. Presently . the conversation reverted to what Constantino had seen in the paper and Nana Dreckelt longingly put the question as to the possibility of Quamin's being yet alive, to Cousin 'Lizbet'. "For you know, Cousin, you did prophesy dat him would be a mighty preacher an' stan' by de altar of de Lord." " I did so, Mrs. Dreckett," replied the other with much dignity, "an* de prophecy has been fulfil'." "How so. Cousin?" "Quamin is now a mighty preacher in Heaven, for las' night I saw in a vision de New Jerusalem, an' dere was Quamin liftin' up his vice an' speakin' to de multitude, jus' [224I An' w'at more do you as I say he would, want, sister?" This was cold comfort to the old woman who was crying quietly, and Quasheba to console her said: "You know. Grannie, dat you' vision doan a ways nght an- you did eat a powerful lot of blue cocoa la^' night before you go to bed." Chile, replied the prophetess severely, blue cocoa has nofing to do wid vision dat de Lard sen'. Dem as come from de Debbil I icnow nofing 'bout. Come, it is time to go Soon Constantine went too. and Nana Dreckett. left alone. Ut her little lamp and sought a panacea for her aching heart in the weU worn Bible out of which Quamin's name had been chosen, but finding reading im- possible through her fast falling tears, she shut the book and fell upon her knees to pray, pouring out her heart's sorrow and disappointment to her God in reverent in- timacy. f«5l The Story of Quamin So engrossed was she, that the gentle rap- ping at her door passed unnoticed and Quamin had to let himself in. Silently he stood at the door, listening to the old woman's prayer until he could bear it no longer, then, with tears streaming down his face: "Grannie, Grannie," he said, "I come home!" Nana Dreckett rose slowly to her feet and believing the boy to be risen from the dead, grew afraid. "Lard have massey on me dis night!" she murmured and would have fallen had he not caught her in his arms. Gently he placed her on the chair and kneeling beside her, took her hands between his own. "Grannie, look at me. It is not duppy, but me — Quamin. I never drown at all like dem say in de papers." Seven years later, one morning when Con- stantine was riding through the pastures to [226] The Return his sister's house, he espied two Kttle figures standing at the pond side, the one holding a tin dipper, the other a long stick. The man laughed softly and said: "Jus" so dem fader an' moder used to do. It IS true w'at dem say in de Bible dat de sin of de parents come down to de children; but ketchin' bull-frog is only a fooUshness, an' no sin, tenk de Lard!" [a27l Other Tales ["9l Mary and Marth nPHE night had been wet and stormy and the pastures were under water, the trees bowed down by the weight of their sodden leaves looked drowned and lifeless, the birds were too cold and damp to give' forth more than a feeble chirp, and the tree- toad had gone to rest after his nocturnal labours. AU the tropical world seemed tired and heavy-eyed like a child after a violent fit of weeping. By an akee tree stood a stalwart negro man, gazing at a piece of rope that encircled Its trunk. At last he gave vent to his feelings and shaking his head slowly from side to side, said: "WeU! dafs de mos' surprisin' piece of business I ever see. Dere is dat hog gone now an- it was dis bery day dat Missa Ramsey Other Tales was comin' to take him away. Dat's one whole poun' of Missis Queen money los' from me by dat rainy wedder las' night; an' w'at I goin' to do?" "W'at 's de matter wid you, Joseph? " asked Mrs. Andrews coming out of the house and seeing her husband talking to the tree. "Oman, you is a fool if you earn sec dat me bes' hog gone. Dere is de rope, but w'ere is mehog?" "Lard! Joe, somebody t'ief him," returned Mrs. Andrews with decision. "I bet you it is dat same black neager Ramsey, an' by dis time de hog is well butcher an' cut up. Oh ! dat is a bad man an' belongs to de Debbil, sartin." " So you t'ink dat it is Missa Ramsey t'ief him? But Carlo no would have bark if any- body come into de yard at night time?" "Carlo know Missa Ramsey, an' if him jus' speak to de dog an' give him one ole bone, w'ere de dog would fin' mout' to bark wid?" " Dat 's de trut' w'at you say, but anyhow [332] Mary and Martha everybody mus' turn out an' look for dat hog because him maybe only pop him rope an' run way how de rain come down 'pon hin las mght. Wake up dem lazy pick'ne>.ua' teu dem to go 'long go sarch for de pig. ■ ■Mrs. Andrews re-entered the house a-d going to the room where the three girls s-'ept managed, after much shaking and calling' to awaken her daughters. "Come! get up. " she said as they stretched themselves and rubbed their eyes, "you fader hog gone an' him say you mus' get up an' go sarch for him." . "^."PP* '°^' ^^ pig?" repeated Mary jumpmg up and getting hold of her clothes, while Martha turned slowly over, mutter- mg: "Chow! dat hog is a pure boderation an' I wish him might never come back agen." You want you' fader to lost one whole poun because you is too lazy to feed de hog? Get up at once an' don' meek I get vex'." Then turmng to Queen Amie. the youngest, a 1^33] Other Tales child of six years, who was sobbing audibly, she asked roughly, "Wat you sit down in dat corner for an' bawlin' like say jackass behin' foot ketch you 'pon you jaw corner? Wat 's de matter wid you?" " Missa— Missa— igh ! igh ! Missa Ramsey, igh! did promise me de tail Saturday, an' now I — igh! I wont get none! Igh — eee-ee! "Piok'ney, you too fool," returned her mother walking away in disgust from her daughters. A few minutes more found the search par,, , reaify to start, with bare feet and dresses tied high and dry by means of a cord around the hips which caught up the skirts in a large fold just below the waist. "I 'se comin' wid you, Mary," said little Queen. "I 'se sure I doan want you wid me," re- turned Martha tartly. "I will teck Carlo. Come, Carlo! come!" But Carlo sat on his haunches slowly wag- ging his tail from side to side and looking at Martha with wide open, innocent eyes as though he was too simple to understand what she said. "Come, Carlo, come!" she repeated, but the dog would not move, so, picking up a stick she threw it at him with aU her might, muttering, "Ole fool! All him know 'bout IS how to eat, " and walked off alone. Carlo dodged the stick successfully; he was used to such delicate attentions from Martha, and remained at a safe distance until she was out of sight, then he bounded after the other two girls, who hf.d also started on their mission. In the deHght of walking through all the deepest puddles she could find and watching the water gush up between her little naked black toes. Queen Anne forgot her disappoint- ment m the lost pig's tail and trotted happily along, chattering all the while like a little parrakeet. "Mary, w'at is dem? Isn't dem junjoe, an' don't dem pisin?" she asked as they [235] Other Tales passed a little cluster of pearly white mush- rooms peeping out through the green grass. "Yes," replied Mary. "Well, I see dat bockra [white] lady w'at live at Grove Hill, me forget him name, I see her pick one whole tray load of dem t'ings one day an' w'en I ax her w'at dem good for, she say she goin' eat dem." "Oh! Bockra know how to obeah de pisin out of dem, but if you was to eat one, you would dead right off." "Lard!" exclaimed Queen in a frightened tone. Then after a few minutes of quiet thinking, she asked, "Sister, is dat w'at obeahman use w'en dem want to kill some- body?" "Shet you' mout', pick'ney an' doan call obeahman name dat way. You doan know dat dem can hear you w'erever dem is an' dem would soon ketch you shadder in a bottle an' kill you. '' "Lard!" once more said Queen, whose face had changed colour while her sister spoke. b36l After this the two girls walked on in sUence a good way. Mary swinging the rope she had brought in case the pig should be found her thoughts far away, while Queen kept casting furtive glances all around fearing every minute to see an obeahman appear with a bottle in his hand. Suddenly Carlo made a dash forward into a clump of bushes and mimediately a fierce grunting followed 'Carlo got him! Carlo got him!" cried both girls at once as they ran to the spot where Carlo, who had "got him. " was holding on to the pig by the ear while the unfortunate animal was doing his best between squeals and struggles to get away. In a jiffy Mary had made a noose with the end of the rope and got it round one of the pig s hind legs; then they drove off Carlo and putting the other end of the rope around the struggling creature's neck, and releasing his leg. they started for home a triumphant Uttle band, all but poor piggy, who followed re- luctantly, getting many a little nip behind [2371 Other Tales from Carlo just to keep him going, and show- ing his indignation by standing bristles and fiercely chopping jaws. When they reached home it was to find Martha still absent, but of this no one took much heed, knowing full well that she was calculated to take good care of herself. When twin daughters were bom to Mrs. Andrews, she named them in accordance with local superstition, Mary and Martha, but nature declining to aid superstition, reversed the accepted order of things and contrary to expectation, gave to Mary, a sweet face and lovable character while to Martha's share fell the husks, both physical and men- tal, and an uglier negro girl than this latter, it would have been difficult to find. Her temper matching her face, she was of course jealous of her more favoured sister and hated Mary with a bitter hatred. This morning she was in one of her darkest moods and went on her way grumbling at U38I Mary and Martha Mary, Queen Anne, and the pig, first cause of all the disturbance. _ "Hi! me darter, w'ere is you goin' so soon in de marnin- an' w'y meek you can't stop an say howdie to de Die man?" Thus accosted, Martha raised her head with a start to see Gran'pa Baldie sitting at the door of his hut, enjoying his coffee and the fresh morning air at the same time "Marnin-, Gran'pa," said she crossing her hands at her waist and dropping a rapid curtsey. "I 'se dat busy lookin' for me pa wort less hog dat I never know I was passin' yew house till you call me. De smell of you' coffee is very good an' sweet, sah; is you got any to spare a poor gal dis cole marnin'?" 'Well, me chile, if you will step up an look in dat pan on de fire, mebbe you will fin' some, an' de goat is jus' onder de house, so you can go milk w'at you want an' welcome. " Tank you, Gran'pa," Martha replied as she took the pan from off the open air hearth composed of three bricks set close together b39i other Tales with a small fire of brambles burning between them. Then pouring the coffee into a jam tin which had done duty as the old man's milk jug, she crept under the house where the goat stood with a couple of kids beside her, and obtaining the desired addition to her cofEee, returned to, old Baldie and sat down by him. As she slowly sipped the steaming fluid, her grievances which had been for the while forgotten returned in full force, and with them came the remembrance of something she had heard about this old man. "Give me you' mug, Gran'pa, an' I will go wash it for you," Martha said, taking hold of his empty cup and walking into the house be- fore he had time to reply. He rose as quickly as his crippled limbs would permit, and hob- bled after her. Inside the house he seated himself on an empty salt fish box and taking a very black clay pipe from his pocket, said: "Me chile, jus' go bring me one fire coal from de fire to light me pipe." As Martha went through the door, the (240] Mary and Marths old man rose hastily, crossed the hut, and taking a small bottle off the top of a cupboard put It m his pocket and regained his seat just as Martha apparently absorbed in the carrying of a hve coal, appeared at the door. "Ah! t'ank you, me dear. I wish I did have a darter like you to teck care of me in me ole age. " Martha shrugged her shoulders doubtfully and said: "To tell you de truth, Gran'pa. I is glad I js n t you darter because I hear dem say you IS obeahmaa, an' I 'fraid for obeahman." Me obeahman, me? De one dat tell you so IS a hard an' I wish dat Nebuchadnay^er de pnnce of de debbils may ketch him an' trow bmmna de bottomless pit wid brimstone anbxhnlead Who teU you such a t'ing as dat? It mus be dat Hard an' fief Mash- mout Samuel dat want to teck away me decent character for him come de odder day an lay claim 'pon me goat an' say it belongs tobm. [Baa! said the goat of Mash-mout' b4i] Other Tales Samuel from under the house.] De Hard, w'en him know well dat de "•- 't is de one me cousin Sarah sen' from Neg.ji come give me! May de Lard strike mo d-^ id if dat is not de truth w'at I say, I know not'ing 'bout obeahman an' I doan like hear obeahman name call in dis house." Baldie leant his back against the wattled side of his hut and puffed fiercely at his pipe while Martha quietly finished drying the mug and cans. When she had finished she said: " Dem is all clean now an' I jus' goin' put dem in dat cupboard." "No! no! leave dem dere," shouted Baldie jumping up to stop Martha, but she was too quick for him and had opened the cupboard door before he caught her hand. The sight of a human skull, some bones of animals, and other debris commonly used in the trade of obeah, made the girl scream, and throwing down the things she held she fled to the other side of the hut. 12^2] Gal, doan be a fool. Wat you 'fraid for? - ^ Gran-pa, I tell you dat you is obeahman an you say you is n't; den w'at you want wid dem t ings in you cupboard?" repUed Martha her voice trembling with fear. " Well, me darter, if I do work a Kttle obeah now an- den, dat is no reason w'y you should callmeobeahman. Dat is a ugly name, an' If constab hear it dem would teck me to de courthouse; now I is a peaceable man, an walk m de ways of de Lard, an' I hope you won't meek nobody know w'at you see today. " "W'at is dat you got in de vial in you pocket, sah?" "Viall got in me pocket? WeU! I never see .uch a gal from I bom. How you know aat r got vial in me pocket, eh?" "Hi! Gran'pa I did see you put de bottle m you pocket w'en me comin' wid de fire- coal." "Gal, you' eye too sharp. Dat bottle have somet ing to kill mongoose an' rat an' I buy [2431 Other Tales it in de Bay las' Saturday because de varmint is eatin' up all me fowl." "Lard! sah, I beg you give me little to set in we cane piece, for ratta is cuttin' all we cane." Seeing hesitation in the old man's expression, Martha added craftily, " If you give me some, Gran'pa, I wont tell nobody dat you is obeahman. " The little ferrety eyes of the girl closed menacingly as she spoke and Baldie realised that to yield to her request was the only way to stop her tongue, so pouring half the con- tent i; of the bottle he had thought to conceal into an empty one from the cupboard, he gave it to Martha saying: "Now, me darter, if you is in a hurry to kill dem rat, one teaspoonful; if you want to punish den) for de damage to you' cane, two drops every day, an' dem will cut less an' less cane every day till dem dead." "T'ankyou, sah," said Martha with a look 01' comprehension and dropping a curtsey, [-'441 Mary and Martha then she took the bottle and her leave of Gran'pa Baldie. "Good-bye, me chile, may de blsssin' of Moses an' of Pharaoh res' 'pon you. an' re- member w'at I say. one teaspoonful to do de busmess quick, two drop every day for pumshment. An' noder t'ing doan forget, dat^everyfing you see not good to talk When Martha arrived home, she was not overjoyed to see her charge once more tied to the akee tree and she could not resist gmn^ a vicious kick to poor piggy as she "Were you been all dis time, Mart'a?" demanded Mrs. Andrews. "Oh! I walk, walk all over de place sarchin' for dat hog an' all de time him did well tie pon de tree agen. Doan bodder me, but give me me breakfas' for I mos' dead wid hungry " Catching sight of Queen Amie who stood at the kitchen door scratching one leg with the bare toes of the other foot and gloating 1*45) MICROCOPY KESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2) A /1PPLIED IIVA^GE Ir ^^. 1653 East Moin Street =« Rochester. Ne» York U609 USA ".^ (716) 4B2 - 0300 - Phone ^S (716) 288 - 5989 - Fa« Other Tales over her recovered chances of the pig's tail, Martha exclaimed "Good fader! look 'pon Queen! De pick'ney stan' 'pon one foot an* starin' at de pig wid water ninnin' out of him mout' like hungry dawg watch bone. I jus' hope Missa Ramsey doan give you de tail after all de way you so greedy after it." "Go 'long, go get you breakfas', you too shurance, " replied the little sister with a toss of her head. " Shurance, eh? I will teach you to call you' betters shurance, you little black neager you ! " Martha made a dive at Queen Anne who slipped off like an eel and in a moment was gone round the house where she stood grin- ning and putting out her tongue at her sister. An unripe akee whizzed past her head, with which parting shot Martha turned into the kitchen and got her breakfast herself. Next day, Mrs. Andrews and Mary went to the Bay, as the little sea-port town was called, to do their marketing leaving Martha I246I Mary and Martha « charge. When twilight began to fall, and about the time they might reasonably be expected home. Andrews told Queen that he hadsoldapenny-halfpemiy worth of akees to Mrs Frummageand she must have them picked before Seraphina Frummage came tor them. "All right, Puppa. •■ said Queen and was at the top of the tree in a minute. Akee after akee fell, then there came a lull. The tree stood at some distance from the house but close to the kitchen the roof of which was half gone, and into the aperture Queen Anne was gazmg as she lav Bat r>t, » • • branch. ^ Projectmg "Queen, is dem akee pick yet?" "Yes, Puppa, I jus' finish," she repUed conung quickly down the tree at the root of which Seraphina waited with her basket. The two children stopped to have a chat be- fore picking up the fruit but were interrupted by Martha who. coming to the kitchen door, called to her sister to stop chatting and come [247] Other Tales and mind the pot of soup while she went to the pepper bush for another green pepper. "Dat Martha, I hate him!" said the little girl to Seraphina as she turned reluctantly to the kitchen. Soon after this Jane and her daughter arrived and while they were busy relating all the- had seen and heard at the Bay, Mar- tha was pouring the pepper-pot into a row of basins that stood on the kitchen table each of which belonged exclusively to some member of the family and was never used by any other. Dinner over, they retired to the house and when the mother had lighted a small lamp which stood on the table, the women folk brought out various pieces of plain sawing, while Joseph, the male and therefore privi- leged member, filled his pipe with native tobacco and puffed contentedly away. A scream from Martha broke the silence of the workers and the others looking up with startled inquiry, saw her throw up her hands I248] and fall backwards off the box on which she had been sitting. " Oh ! Lard, Lard, Lard, I dead ! help ! help ! " she screamed, rocking from side to side. " Me poor pick'ney is on dyin', Joseph, look •pon him! Wat we goin' to do?" implored the mother, terrified ahnost out of her senses. "Go bring Gran'pa Baldie, meek has'," gasped Martha between her groans. " Yes, yes, Joseph, him can work cure ! Go get de jackass an' go for him quick as you can. " Joseph rushed out of the house and drag- ging the unwilling donkey out of the en- closure in which he usually spent the night, hastily threw an old corn sack across his back, a rope around his head, and digging his heels into the poor animal's sides, started at full gallop for the obeahman. Meanwhile her mother and Mary were do- ing their best to give the sufferer ease and Queen Anne, huddled up in a corner of the room, watched them in speechless terror. [249] Other Tales Almost before tney expected him Joseph came back trotting beside the donkey with Gran'pa Baldie seated on its back, his feet almost touching the ground. Helping the old man to alight, Andrews took him to the room wherein lay the sick girl. "Ah! me darter, you is mos' dead I see," said the magician rubbing his hands in evi- dent satisfaction. "Yes, Gran'pa, save me! save me!" she implored. "Yes, I will save you, but everybody mus' go out of de room an' lef only me an' you, else de charm won't work." The fanuly silently filed out before the command of superior knowledge and the wizard turning to his patient, said: "Mart'a, you been try in' to work obeah wid dat rat p'isin I give you an' de obeah turn 'pon you'self . Teck dis an' drink it at once or you never live to see to-morra. " He handed her a small calabash cup the contents of which the patient drank eagerly, [250I Mary and Martha while the obeah doctor made mysterious passes over her with .is hands at the same time muttering a deep voiced incantation. It did not take long for the powerful anti- dote he had given her to do its work, and when she was somewhat recovered, he said: "You mus- give me back dat rat p'isin or obeah will ketch you again, an' de secon' time It ketch you, you mus' dead, nofing can save you life. " "If you look in dat crab hole jus' inside de kitchen close to de post, you will fin' de bottle, Gran'pa, but I never will try to use obeah again for is only dem w'at understan' It can handle it right," replied the girl in a weak voice. After Baldie had assured the anxious pa- rents of their daughter's safety and taken his leave and Andrews got home with the don- key ndden by the magician, Mary went out to give the animal water and Queen Anne followed her. "Mary," she said, "I see Mart'a drop Usi] Other Tales Eomet'ing out of a bottle into you' basin dis evenin' w'en I was 'pon de akee tree, den I see her hide de bottle in de crab hole in dc kitchen, an' w'en she would n't meek me talk 1.0 Seraphina but sen' me away to min' de soup, I go get de bottle an' pour some into for her basin, den I wash for you basin an' jus' lef ' few drop of water in de bottom, an' how de somet'ing she did put in white like water, she never know de difference. I t'ink dat is w'at Kieck her sick." Mary made no answer for she believed Queen Anne was right. [252J Forbidden Fruit pRAU von Helmsdorf sat at the door of the Moravian mission house busily turning the heel of a white cotton sock des- tined for the honest German foot of her 'Mann" the missionary. Together he and she had come out fifteen years earlier to this unknown tropical land wherein they had since laboured unceasingly for humanity and the Gospel; but going to and fro upon his Mas- ter's business was no longer easy to von Helmsdorf. He was growing stout and unwieldly. In earlier years his dutiful Frau had con- sidered it a special dispensation of Providence in their favour that the Island provided her larder with so many delicacies, and even now she refused to entertain his occasional fear, which came only with ir. ligestion, that thj [2531 Other Tales Enemy had somewhat ens .ared him through l,is liking for the things of the table. When quite well, the good missionary rose superior to the fancy and went on getting fatter and fatter. Now, seeing him come towards the house with frowning brows and hurried, angry footsteps, his wife rose an'1 went to meet him with some anxiety. "Mein Fritz, what is the matter?" she isked in their mother tongue, laying her hand on his arm. " Matter," he replied fiercely, "the matter is that the thieves have been at my bread- fruit again and there is not oiij left on it that is fit to pick. " "Isthrvtall?" "All! and is that not enough? Ach! mein Frau, you like not the fruit yourself." "You look so very angry, Fritz, I thought it must be some new trouble, but this thing has happened so often now, you ought to mind it no more." [>S4l Forbidden Fruit "As I said before, you like not tho fruit yourself, Frau, " he returned irritably, then his face changed quickly to pleased anticipa- tion as a curtseying black girl came to the door and announced dinner ready. The short tropical twilight was changing quickly to dusk as they entered the house, the girl vanishing noiselessly before them, her bare feet making no sound on the polished floor. Th'- meal was taken ir Hence except for the good man's gobbling, ana when they had left the dinner table for the cooler verandah with Its comfortable old fashioned rocking chairs, Herr von Helmsdorf puffed away at his pipe as if lost in meditation, so that his wife gave up conversational attempts and went quietly to sleep. As the missionary sat buried in thought, the fireflies might flit in and out between the leaves of the india-rubber tree, th- Southern Cross, his favourite among the starry host, m'ght shine with more than usual brilliancy, (255) Other Tales and the thousand voices of the tropical night call to him ever so tenderly, all in vain: he was too much engrossed in unwonted thoughts of revenge upon the robber of his bread-fruit tree. Moodily he sat puffing away until long after his usual bed hour until his wife awoke in her chair and induced him to retire for the night. Meanwhile "Minister's" mood was a sub- ject of comment in the kitchen. Jemima, the maid who had summoned them to dinner, declared that "somet'ing mus' be do Minister an' vex him for true, because him never remember to ask for fry plantain t'ree time." "You doan know w'at do him, den?" asked Ahab, the pennkeeper, indifferently. "No. De Missis go to meet him on do gravel walk an' him mus' be tell her, but as dem talkin' deni own gibberish, I could n' meek out w'at dem sayin', I only ketch one word, bread-fruit. " [2561 Forbidden Fruit "Did him carry anj in him hanV" asked oarah the cook quickly "No." "Ahey! den I know w'at do Minister. Dem tiefin- him bread-fruit agai- because dis afternoon w'en him going out him see me at de door an' him holler sav. 'Cook, I goin' bnng you one splended one for breakfas' to- niarra an' if you spoil it, I will stop two week wages from you.' Him only say dat be- cause h,m know well I never spoil a single bread- rmt since I come her« ten year gone las July. I know de way him love dem an' always teck care dat dem roas' good, good Is a sm for anybody to fief from Minister because him good to everybody an' docs spen him time prayin' to Massa up a' top to save we poor sinful soul from de Debbil " Sarah seated herself on a small bench close to the kitchen door with satisfaction at having cleared up the mystery, and Ahab rose to get a coal from the fire for his pipe. Taking two or three puffs, he said: US7l Other Tales "Well, Minister ought to do little pray in' for himself too, because him love victuals too much, an' dat is a sin as well as t'iefin'." The two women looked knowingly at each other and as the pennkeeper turned to leave the kitchen, Sarah called after him, "Any- how, w'en de Debbil sarvin' out de boilin* lead, him won't pass de one dat teckin' dem same bread-fruit." Then she left her seat and going over to Jemima, put her hand im- pressively on the younger woman's shoulder, saying solemnly, "Jemima, believe me, is not a soul else but Ahab doin' it." At midnight when everything grows quiet in the tropics and "the weary world lies sleeping," Frau von Helmsdorf's dreams were rudely broken by the sound of laughter so wild and unnatural that she trembled with fright for some seconds until she saw the cause of her alarm in her husband who was sitting up in bed, pointing wildly with his finger into the surrounding darkness, and laughing with fierce joy. [258] "Fritz! crazy?" Her voice seemed to break the spell, for his outstretched hand dropped and hesankwearily back to his pillow, then asked in a sleepy tone : what IS It, Frau?" ''Ach! Fritz, mein Mann. I thought you had gone crazy. What made you do it, Fritz are you ill?" No. no, Frau, I am not ill, but I had a vision. In my dreams I saw the robber of my bread-fruit tree taken in a trap at the rtH,t of It I laughed to see the sinner thus caught in his sin." ^ "Fritz, forget not who says, 'vengeance is mine and always, so far. you have set these poor blacks the example of charity to all men Vex thyself not with anger but pray for thme enemy that he be turned from his evil doings. "I do that also, Emma, but a little judi- cms punishment hero might save him from the wrath to come." [259I Other Tales Frau von Helmsdorf at first only shook her head in reply. She was not strong in argument but seldom changed her mind. After a full minute of silence she remarked: "Take care, mdn Mann, lest you punish yourself worse than him, if you would persist. " At breakfast next morning, the missionary announced his i itention of going to the Bay, or nearest sea-port town, about fourteen miles away, to make some necessary pur- chases, and contrary to his usual custom did not ask his wife to accompany him. That evening he returned laden with an assort- ment of merchandise, and Ahab came for- ward to take Karl and the gig round to the stables, his master cautioning him to look well to the horse's feet as one of them seemed lame. " It is a great bother, Ahab, for I must go to the Bay again on Monday." Ahab stooped to examine the hurt. "Karl never can go dat journey on Monday, [260I sah. Him foot cut bad," he said when he had seen the nature of the wound Von Hetasdorf frowned and stamped his foot impatiently. Bav'^n^'"!,' ""'''• ' ""'''^ '«"^' «° *° the that r ^ ^^ ^^= ''""°* ^°" fi'^ '''" "P - that he can take the journey slowly?" Cant do it, Minister. De cut deep an' >f you drive dat horse before two week Wm wmiameforderes-ofhimhfe. ButifM^ s^er want to go to de Bay bad fashion, me ^^^n Wow one horse, or failin- horse itself! yoltike?'*'^"' — ^--onthif thJlISarmir^"'''^"''^'^^''^^^-- Sunday morning Ahab went on his borrow- aUt^rrroa/"^------ [261J Other Tales "Marnin," Cousin, but how come it dat you get 'way so soon Jis Sabbat'?" returned the blacksmith. Ahab explained the situation voluminously and concluded with, "So I come dis marnin* to ask you if you can len' me you' wall-eye mare for de trip? Minister will pay you dollar for it." " Me good Cousin Ahab, if him orfer me poun' de mare doan able; she lie down onder de cotton tree now wid Johncrow up at de tree top keepin' watch for her las' breat'." "De poor brute! Well, I mus' go an' see if any of dem todder one got a beas' to len'." "I say, Ahab, w'at Minister goin' to do wid de iron somet'ing him gettin' meek at de Bay? Him give me wife broder order for one kind of trap, an' have it ready for Monday, so mus' be dat teckin' him to de Bay so soon again." "Iron trap? Me doan hear not'ing 'bout dat. Minister got 'nough trap already to [262] mongcwse dat ever ketch all de rat an' walk." "Well, from w'at me wife broder say, dis too big for mongoose or rat. Wen him did ask Minister w'at de use of it. Minister say to ketch a kin- of rat got only two foot, an' me nebber hear of two foot rat before." A light broke in on Ahab's mind. He was silent for awhile then said: "Neider me, me frien', but anyhow I mus' go, so day-day. " "Day-day," returned Benny, and Ahab continued his quest. Prom Joe Miller he got the loan of a mule and on Monday the minister went again to the Bay. That evening von Helmsdorf set his trap at ^he root of his bread-fruit tree and for many days waited expectantly, but the thief came no more and at last the good missionary him- self forgot all about the trap. It happened that one day as he was riding on the road near the tree, he looked up and [263] other Tales saw, half hidden by leaves, a beautiful bread- fruit and the good man's mouth watered at the sight. Dismounting, he threw the reins on Karl's neck and taking oflE Ws coat, prepared to climb if his bulk would permit. Now the grass had grown over the trap and von Helms- dorf thought cf nothing else but the hand- some green fruit hanging high above his head. Without warning, the trap snapped its iron jaws and von Helmsdorf was a prisoner. Consternation overcame him for awhile, then stooping he cleared away the grass with his hands and tried in vain to open the strong iron spring, but his instructions had been minute and careful and the backsmith had been exact, so there vas nothing for him but to shout for help and thank his stars that he had mercifully ordered the trap to be me.de without sharp teeth; though in closing, it sprung a peculiar catch which made the open- ing almost impossible to any one caught in the toothless jaws. [264I Forbidden Fruit Ahab, hearing the cries, ran to the spot and the good man, overjoyed at the prospect of speedy deliverance, cried out as he saw the approaching figure: "Oh! my friend, my frfend, help me to escape from this fiend. Ahab, Ahab, in the wickedness of my heart I set a trap for a thici and am fallen into the midst thereof myself i " "My Fader! Minister, w'at do you? Is It duppy [ghost] holin- you foot, sah?" said Ahab, feigning ignorance of his master's trouble. "No! no! Ahab, an invention of the Evil One has me in its clutches. I saw this thing m a dream and mistook it for inspiration from above, so I hardened my heart and thought CO see my enemy where I stand to-day. But the veil has fallen from my eyes and I know now the enemy I must seek to take prisoner IS myself. I love too much the things of the table and they have led me to forsake the way of mercy to sinners. But tear open the bands of iron that encompass my leg for I am [265] Other Talcs not so young as once I was and the pain is not a little." So Ahab took a large stone and forced it into the trap, thereby enabling the missionary to withdraw his foot, and exclaimed incau- tioxisly as he examined the instrument of torture: "Massey! but dis strong 'nough to hold de bull of Bashan; I glad I did teck care to keep away from dis tree." " K ou knew it was there then! Aha! Ahab, then you stole my bread-fruit. " Confounded by the rapidity of the in- ference and the tone of certainty, Ahab did not even attempt denial but fell on his knees. "Oh! Massa Parson, I 'm shame of myself. It is a great sin to t'ief from you sm' I is de chiefes' among sinner. " " What could have tempted you, Ahab, to do such a wicked thing?" " De bread-fruit, Massa, de green tempta- tion, sah. Lard, I love de bread-fruit jus' de same as you does you'seU, sah." [2661 The minister looked down at him in a dazed way He felt accused of his own familiar sin; then a benign expression came over his kind face and he said: "You do, Ahab? I can understand the case then, but beware of stealing, my son. And as it is my duty to remove temptation from the weak, just climb the tree and fetch me down that bread-fruit." .. °"* ^^^ 8°°<^ 'nan gave that specimen of green temptation" to a neighbour and has never been known to eat of bread-fruit since nor mdulge too freely in fried plantain. He IS much thinner, stronger, and more active than he was ten years ago and often the good Frau thinks that his vision did not come from below after all for the trap did catch the thief undoubtedly. 1267) Methuselah's Courtship ■H A Tale of the West Indies I! Grannie, meek me help you, ehey?" "All right, buoy, I will t'ank you, for the jackass more dan me. Shove him behin' w'ile I haul him by de rope. Gustos' buggy comin' an' de road dat naner I 'fraid de banana dem going to mash up." At that the olu woman ran to the donkey's head, and made as rr ich haste up the steep bank as her withered limbs would allow, coax- ing the stubborn animal with a sharp smack- ing noise from her lips, while Son-son pushed valiantly from behind. The donkey, yielding to double persuasion, ran up the bank, and Son-son deftly snatched from the topmost bunch two of the largest and ripest bananas. When the passing carriage had vanished round a bend in the road, the old woman led [368] Methuselah's Court ship her beast down again and would have pro- ceeded on her way, but Son-son. touching nis cap, said meekly: "Den. Grannie, you not goin' to give me one .o-so banana ror me trouble? De jackass did w eU heavy, you know, ma'm. " ''Youpick'neynebber want to do notW widouten pay, " grumbled grannie. Then she searched among her banana, for the smallest and greenest of them, and, discovering the theft, turned upon the boy with the end of the rope and a shower of abuse. He dartrd down the road and at a safe distance stood mocking and waving the fruit at the irate old woman, who, knowing pursuit would be useless, gave to the donkey the blows she had meant for the boy. and disappeared with her beast round the corner after the Gustos' buggy. Son-son peeled a banana, and his mouth was just opening for the first bite when a voice from behind said: "Where you get dem?" (269J Other Tales The boy turned his head, to see a handsome black girl of about twenty balancing on her hi id a round basket cf yams. \x me no question an' I won't tell you no lie," he replied snubbingly, and continued on his way. She followed him. " I just ax for fun, me buoy, for I well know we 're dem come from." "Were den, since you is obeah woman an' know w'at nobody tell you?" "Outof Grannie Maria creel. Me jus' pasd her on de road an' she strong 'pon cussin' you for a fieH" Son-son threw his head back. "Laugh, me buoy, laugh! You nebber hear dem say, 'w'en chicken merry, hawk is net..-'?" "W'at you mean?" he asked sharply, and the girl answered : "Well! I know dem people dat got de spirit is tip-top 'pon de tamarin' switch, for my fader did have it one time, an' I see Missa Methuselah at de las' revival hump- a' IsTO] Methuselah'3 Co urtship up himself like puss swaller fish-bone, an' Kroanin'. an' dem say is the spirit him got. "Wilse Methuselah don't for me fader w at me care how much 'spirit' him got? Jtou too fool, Becky!" ''But me tell you say Hm goin' be you' fader-in-law- an' dat wone agen! Me see him.^ ^berymamin' 'ponhim mule, wid him bum pan 'pon him head, an' him long tail coat, an' him would n' wear dat week day if ■ didn'tcourtin'! Dem say is you' modor ' gone see. An' min' you. Son-son. big tan nn tree grow at him door mouth'" Becky watched with delight the cloud wh.ch gathered on the boy's face, and she laughed aloud when he shook his fist and said: "Lard! If I ever catch him courtin' my moder I beat him till him mash up fin^'" Son-son fairly boiled with indignation, and Becky, feeling that her mission had been ac- complished, said gaily: [17'] Other Tales "Good-by, me buoy! I sorry for you from me heart!" and turned up a narrow pathway. He deigned no answer, but walked on, switching viciously at the wild flowers along his path. At his mother's gate Francella met him, her face wreathed in smiles, and brimming over with news. A mule was hitched to a tree in the yard, and before the little girl had time to speak, her brother demanded sternly: "Who fot dat mule?" "Is Missa Methuselah mule. "'•'^ inside the house withma. Dem courtin ' , Son-son ! ' ' she added excitedly. "Courtin"! Dat ole lightnin' fool some- t'ing t'ink say ma goin' married him?" ' ' Yes ! she jus' finish tell him so now ! Look here, Son-son, you ought to see de gran' flourishin' bow him meek to ma w'en him come in fus'. Den him say, ' Mistress Rachel, I come to meek a supposition to you, ma'm.' Ma, she says, 'Wat is dat, Mistah Methu- selah?' jcs' like she did n't know. Den him [272] Methuselah's Courtship knock him hand 'pon him shirt front, bram> an say, 'Mistress Rachel, dis heart is onder-' neath you foot. Will you teck me for better an for worse, ma'm?' Ma. she begin to laugh, an twis' her neck like chicken got staggers, den Missa Methuselah meek to come up to her, an- him dat hurry him nebber see Mana till him mash off de fing five toe. Ix>ok here. Son-son, de poor puss mos' spit himself to death, as him meek for de door 'pon de tree foot leffen to him. I dat frighten I has to run out an ' did n't see de endin ' of it " "Wha- dem doin' now.?" inquired her brother, whose frown had relaxed at the re- cital of Maria's woes. ';i dunno, but I goin- look froo de watt- Im , an' see if I can see anyt'ing." "I comin' wid you!" The two little imps stole round to the back of the thatched cottage, where they knew that a hole in the wall of interlaced laths would afford opportunity for observation There was a struggle to be first at the hole " [273] Other Tales and of course Son-son won. He took off the straw brim which did duty as a hat and ap- plied one eye to the hole. The happy pair were sitting on a bench against the opposite wall, Methuselah's puny shape end deformity making strange contrast to the woman's ample development. Suddenly he kissed her, and she returned the salute with a robust fervour which made Son-son exclaim: "Lard! Francella, you dear dat? Dat is 'nough to meek the cluckin' lizard in de thatchin' trimble!" Hardly had the words been spoken when a scream from within made him return his eye hastily to the hole. His mother stood upon the bench, horror-stricken, her skirts gathered round her, and her gallant lover armed with a broom was peering on the ground with his shortsighted eyes for the disturber of his bliss. " Wat me did tell you? " the boy demanded excitedly of his sister, and rushed round to the door shouting, "Stop, Missa Methuselah! Stop, sah! I will kill him for you!" [274I Prancella followed, as she always did when her brother led. though in truth she Jw nothmg of what had happened. On the floor lay a large lizard, which, stupefied by its fall Snatcbng the broo™ f^on, Methuselah's hand. Son-son hfted the stick high in the air, andwasabouttodemolishtheintrudingreptil at a blow, but the cat's breakfast had been forgotten that morning, and she. recognising a chance of filling the void, darted softly for ward then out of the door with the prize danghng fr„„ j^er mouth. Quick as a flash the boy was after her. but his mother stopped him. saymg: "Look here. buoy, lefdat puss alo an' go bnng wood to cook the dinner. " "I did jes' teck aim for the middle of the hzard backbone, an- if Maria did n' come would have J, him to de floor! Puss is de t :efin es t mg in de wori'!" muttered Son- on St: 1 scowling after the disappearing cat. Then he went off to do his mother's b75l Other Tales bidding, Francella following at a respectful distance. When they were once more alone, Rachel said to her affianced husband: "I got somet'ing to show you, but you musn' tell nobody. You hear? " He promised, and she stepped outside for a moment, returning with a small rustic ladder, which she placed firmly against the wattled wall, and clambering up drew from amid the thatch of the roof a wooden money box. This she showed to Methuselah, saying : "I got ten pound in dis box, an' I goin' spen' some of it on de dress for de weddin'." "Ten poun'!" he exclaimed, with wide eyes of astonishment; "you is a rich woman, Rachel." She put the box carefully in its hiding-place, and came down the ladder. "Now, Methuselah, you is de only one know 'bout dat money, so you keep you mout' shet, or it might be t'iefin' from me." "Nebber you fear, Rachel, my love; I will [276I Methuselah's Courtship let my comn.unication be yea, yea, nay, nay. Trus'mefordat." "De pick'ney mus' be come wid de wood by this time, so I beg you put back de ladder gamst de fowl house, an' I will go boil little victuals for you. " - s the Uttle knock-kneed man got outside the door with his burden, Son-son, who had been an unseen observer of the whole pro- ceeding, called out to him: "Hi! Missa Methuselah, w'at you been dom- wid ladder in de house? Me did fink dat you' foot too twis' to climb dat." "Buoy, " he replied, in a solemnly reproach- ful voice, "dere is no bear in dis Ian', t'ank God! But dere is odder wil' t'ings just as bad, an if you ever go to Sunday-school you ought to know w'at happen dem dat mock at de afflicted of de Lord." Rachel, coming out of the house, heard the last words, and asked: "Wha' him saying, Methuselah?" "Rachel, I am sorry to say your son (277) Other Tales standet' in great need of chastisement. He is a mocker, ma'm." "Den I goin' give it to him," replied the mother, making a dive at Son-son, who, al- ways on the alert for such emergencies, made good his escape. "Nebber min', me buoy! Wen you' plothes come off to-night is de time! Shurance, pick'ney," a threat which she made good in a way that Son-son did not soon for"et, and the wales on his little body served to keep strong his desire for revenge until the opportunity came to gratify it. This happened one market day when Rachel went off to the nearest town, taking Francella with her. Son-son be- ing left to take care of the house. Then the old, time-worn adage concerning idle hands and mischief received confirmation once again. With nothing to do until time to cook his mid-day meal, the boy lay under the jack- fruit tree, and fell fast asleep. He was awak- ened by the noisy cackling of a hen who was slowly hopping down the ladder of the fowl- I278] Methuselah's Courtship house. Up he jumped, scaring the hen until she forgot her dignity and flew screaming away to join the other members of Rachel's feathered floek, while he ran nimbly up the ladder, and as nimbly down again with a big brown egg in his hands. At the foot of the ladder a sudden thought struck him; he put his finger in his mouth, and hung his head for a moment, then nodded as if his decision pleased him. Taking the ladder into the house, he proceeded to investigate the walls and roof. At the point where his mother's money box lay hidden he noticed that the thateh had been disturbed, and with a grin of dehghted expectation he put the ladder into position, and running up it was soon in possession of Rachel's treasure. He shook the box. then tried to get his finger through the opening, and, failing, put the box into lus pocket, and scrambling down carried the ladder back to the fowl-house, and returned himself to the shade of the jack-fruit tree where, with the aid of a penknife, the lid was b-9l Other Tales soon removed from the box, and Son-son gazed at the golden coins with much curiosity. That they were money he knew, but of their value, or where they might be changed, he was ignorant; besides, he had no immediate use for them, beyond the feeling of anger against her lover their loss would cause his mother. So, digging a deep hole under sheltei- of a low-growing rose-bush, and nailing back the lid of the box, he btiried his treasure as he knew was customary with the Spanish buc- caneers. Then he built a fire of brambles, cooked his fish and cocoa thereon, and, having eaten them, stretched himself once more under his favourite tree to yawn away the time till his mother's return. Rachel arrived in high spirits, having sold her provisions to such good advantage that the wedding gown had been purchased with- out breaking in on her golden store. That evening when Methuselah came to pay his usual visit, she displayed to his admiring eyes a piece of white silk gaily flowered, explain- [280] Methuselah's Cour tship ing that the ten pounds was still intact, and would now serve to pay for an addition to her house, m which they would liveafter marriage -t bemg already a good deal larger than her fiancds bachelor residence. "An- I been finkin', Methuselah," said she, dat de bes ' t 'ing to do wid dat money, meanw ile, is to put it in de bank. Wat you say to dat? I fink I will jus' get it down now w'ile you is here to hold de ladder for me. " Glancing at the two children, who were sound asleep in a comer of the room, and ^thout waiting for Methuselah's expression of opimon, she went out to get the ladder. As before, he held it i„ p,ace while she mounted and searched among the thatch, her faee expressing more and more bewilderment when her treasure was not forthcoming. When the truth dawned upon her, she slid down the ladder, and seized the little shrunken What followed Methuselah could never (281] Other Tales rightly recall until he found himself mounted on his mule, and riding for dear life out of the yard. At the gate something whizzed past his head and startled his mule, which broke into a wild gallop, landing Methuselah on the top of his head in a roadside drain. .Here he lay for a while stunned by the fall, ■and it was midnight before he lifted the latch , of his little cottage door, and threw himself, all battered and faint, upon his bed. The mule had found his way home sooner, and was quietly cropping the short grass around the hut, without one qualm of conscience to disturb his repast. Not long after this an tmcle of Methuselah's died, leaving him what, in the eyes of his black friends, seemed a large fortune, and then Rachel began to repent of her hasty judgment. "Even if him did teck de money it would n' matter, for him got more dan dat now himself, an' him so weak I could have manage him all right, " she reflected. " Fran- (282] Methuselah's C ourtship ccUa, •• said she, to the little girl, "get de hoe; I goin dig up dat roses-bush; it grow too big an goin' to dead anyway." Francella obeyed, and Rachel was soon working away at the root of the despised rose- bush, turning up -eat clods of earth at every blow which it was Francella's delight to break open in the hopes of finding therein some wriggling insect. Soon she gave a scream of delight, and Rachel turned, to see her lost money box in the little girl's hand. W ere you fin' dat?" she asked sharply. In the hole you diggin'. Ma. It soun' hke money in it, too," Francella exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down. Rachel threw down her hoe and with a pair of scissors she had about her person took off the hd of the box. There lay her ten golden sovereigns, bright and safe. She was stupe- fied for a moment, then muttered, "Poor Methuselah didn't t'ief it after all. Mus' had been duppy do dis i ing." That afternoon she donned her Sunday [283I Other Tales I ' dress, and went to "meetin'." Methuselah had taken more violently than ever to religion since his unhappy love afTair, and had become a leader in the revivalist movement, and it was to the little meeting-house where he preached that she now went, taking both children with her. As she reached the door it was thrown violently open, and a wedding party streamed out. At its head walked Methuselah vvith Becky, clad in bridal array, leaning on his arm, and Rachel knew she had come too late. As the couple passed, Son-son called out: "Hi! Becky, you mus' be forgot dat big tamarin' tree grow at him door mouth , an ' dem dat got de spirit is tip-top 'pon de switch. " Becky tossed her head, and the company giggled, but Methuselah turned upon the mother and son a look of burning hate. "Scarlet woman of Babylon," he said aloud, "sit no longer by the wayside, but go home, and mete out to the young viper, thy son, his just punishment." [284] "Busha" Chicken DLACK RACHEL was down at the river *-f washing clothes. She had no pre- conceived notions of economy, and the fact that her soap suds floated away as fast as they were formed, did not trouble her generous mind. There she stood in the httle silvery stream, her skirts tucked up above her knees, a large flat stone for a washboard, and a corn cob as her nght-hand assistant in the battle for clean- liness. Her two ebony chips. Son-son and Fran- cella, were busy catching ticky-tickies (min- nows) in a tin can with a wire handle. "My Fader! Son-son, look 'pon dat cray- fish over dere-see! jus' onder dat rockstone! Him big as any barracoota!" "Ahey! a so for true, Francey. Gosh" [285] Other Tales him big sah! I p""t' try to ketch him wid one grass straw." Off he ran, soon returning with the longest straw to be found. Making a noose with the pliable end, he crept slowly into the stream until so near his victim that he dared not move another step, then softly dipped the loop beneath the surface of the water and pushed it cautiously under the unsuspecting crustacean's tail. A sudden jer^ threw his captive to the bank, landing it almost on top of Francella, who, with a yell, flew for her life. "Francella — you is de foolishes' gal I ebber see from I born! Wha' you t'ink de crayfish would do you?" "Lard! Son-son, teck care him run him mout' inna you!" "Chow! watch me grab him!" returned her brother scornfully. "Hi, Lard! Lard! but I nebber did know say dem somet'ing was dat venomous!" he cried dropping it in hot haste, for in his anx- [2861 " Busha •• Chick. lety to show his superior s' j: io '^n-nt ella he had managed to run the iou£ av.-Hke protuberance of the crawfish into his hand where it snapped off. ' "What is de matter wid you, buoy?" called h.s mother as she stepped out of the water to spread her clothes on the penguin fence close by. "Crayfish jam him mouf in me han' an It bruck off in dere." "Meek me see," said Rachel, taking his hand from which the blood trickled slowly Bery well! you nebber will lissen w'en you fader tell you say is 'Softly-softly ketch monkey quickes'.' an' now you goin' dead of lockjaw!" She delivered the sentence as though somethmg she had long looked for had happened, and she did not regret it in the least. A duet of wails broke from the children. "Stop you bawlin- an' go 'long to see if Docta' in de bilin' house an' get him to teck (287I Other Tales it out for you. Run! meek haste — for if it get mix wid you' blood, you done for!" Off they started, Francella's little plaits of crimpy hair standing out stiffer than ever from her head, while her anxious brown eyes kept a steady watch on her brother's face — Son-son feeling anxious as to "Doctor's" method of removal, but, from more mature experience, putting less faith in his mother's prophetic gift. After they had walked awhile in silence, Francella said timidly : "Son-son?" "Eyeh?" "Is you' jaw gettin' stiff yet?" "Yes." "Which part Son-son?' "Jus' dong at de tongue root." "Massey! you t'ink you goin' dead?" "Yes — dis bery minute." Suiting the action to the word, the young son of Ham fell over on his back, his teeth [288] '«t and grinning, his eyes rolling wildly, and a gurghngm his throat. Francella stood by wringing her hands, the great tears rolling down her little black face' ^nd between .obs calling to her dearly loved bother not to die. But he appeared not to hear or heed, and after a struggle or two, lay quite still. •' This was too much for Francella, who thinking her brother dead, took to her heels shout^g ,heran. "Help, ohlhelpjoh.r- i^ear had dnven love from out her little Afri- can heart. "Stop, you little fool you! Ma will soon hear you an' den you know dat tamann switch goin' to play -pon we "Is you betta, Son-son.v p^ancella asked, much relieved at the sudden change. Chow! it was fun me was meckin', gal me did n't hab no lockiaw. me jus' fonn sick to fnghten you. Come, meek we set one spnnge an' try ketch one bud for we dinner [289I Other Tales Peadove well sweet w'en dem roas', you know!" The art of springe making and setting was something in which much practice had made these two perfect, so a young shoot was soon cut from a tree, and pieces of string fished out of Son-son's pocket full of miscellanies and tied to one end of the sapling. They drove tha other end firmly into the ground, then bent it bow-shaped until the string, formed into a noose, rested on the grass, where a forked stick kept it in position. A few bullet tree berries laid within the noose, completed the merciless trap. Then the little niggers retired behind the big bullet tree and waited for their victim. Nor had they long to wait. "Francella, you see him?" whispered Son- son hoarsely. "Yes, yes! I see him, but w'at it. Son- son; dat too big for peadove?" "Stop little," said her brother as he crept out a bit to get a better view Oi the bird. [290] Then as he slowly drew himself back again 'No-:s not peadove, is partridge-see now him red?" "But me did hear pa say dat mongoose nyam [eat] off all de partridge an' none don't lef ?" "Me cam be help for dat, me know say dat bud :s partridge. Ahey! got him!" he shouted as the springe flew up. carrying with It the unwary bird. Both children rushed up in time to see their victim fall to the ground again, where It remamed motionless, the weight of its body keeping the sapling bent. Seeing it was dead, they quickly took the noose from round Its broken neck, then consternation seized the pair. "Francella! is one of Busha [overseer's] chicken!" Francella began to cry. "Son-son, I tell you say dat bud wasn't partridge. I tell you say mongoose nyam of! all de partridge an' you would n' believe me. [291] Other Tales an' now Busha goin' to beat we w'en him fin' out." "Doan fret for dat! Busha will neber know dat it not mongoose eat him chicken. It nice an' fat, Francey, an' goin' to meek jou lick you' mout' w'en it stew. But min' now an' hoi' you tongue — you hear?" "I will shet me nout', but I 'fraid for Busha, him so love to beat pick'ney [children]. Son-son hide it onder dat tumble dong tree dere, an' w'en we comin' back we will get it agen." "Eh! eh! de gal 'tupid sah! you forget I jis' done call mongoose name eno? I 'se jus' goin' to put dis here red fowl in de top of me hat an' not a soul will eber know say I got chicken 'pon me head." He drew off his cone-shaped felt hat and doubling up the still limp chicken in it, replaced it on his head, and revolving on one foot before his sister, said triumphantly: "Dere! you see any of it, Francey?" [292I _ "No-but you- hat look bery tall, an' if It was to drop off " "Oh, chow! come on an' lef me to look after dat." The excitement over, Son-son remem- bered his sore hand, and they walked very fast until they reached the trash yard of the sugar estate where "Doctor" was bookkeeper. A mixed gang were lazily rakmg up the cane trash into heaps, pre- paratory to storing it away under cover, to be used as fuel later on. As the children came m sight, a young lad called out to them: "Hi! Cousin, w'at you come for?" "Come for beg Docta teck somefing outof mehan'." "Wha* it— logwood prickle?" "Nebber— crayfish mout'." "Lard, buoy! him goin' cut to de bone for dat! Show me de han' eno." Then as he ^xamined it, "It gone dong fur enough. Mus hab been a able crayfish for do dat- (293] Other Tales it poin' hurt you for teck out, sonny, better meek I come wid you. " "All right, come on if you like." Looking round to see if the gang driver was out of sight and finding he was, Reuben dropped his rake and went with the children to the door of the boiling house. Here Son-son stopped. "Come on! wha' you stoppin' for?" asked Reuben, all haste to see the sport. "Chow, man! I 'fraid Doeta' goin' use him long knife 'pon me!" "But dere 's a buoy coward! Den you goin' Stan' here an' meek de crayfish p'isin get inna you blood? You mus' be want to dead!" " Nebber — me will go, but Francey teck me hat so hoi' it tight, you hear? I might lost it de way I goin' jump w'en de cole steel touch me. " With both hands he carefully took his hat off his head, and bringing the two brims close together to hide the chicken, he handed it to b94l h>ss>stcr. PoorlittleFrancey-ifshchadbeen g'vcn a dynamite bomb to embrace, she could not have looked more scared. She took the precous hat very cautiously, and Reuben seemg something was up, asked: I'W'at you got in dere, Francella?" Peadove," was the prompt reply. How you ketch him.P" he went on. Spnnge," said the little girl shortly. Meek me see him?" w'l'f °'.r^°" "^^ '^'^''^'^y "^^^'^ vvant w at nodder somebody got, an' if I show you d^sbud,Iwilltemp'you,dendeDebbilgoin' get me w'en I dead." "De gal convince!" sai ' Reuben, and mounted the rickety stairs without any more questions. They found "Doeta' " in a narrow passage aIongs.de the liquor vats, and Reuben lost no time in telling him Son-son's errand. Let me see your hand, Son-son." Yes, sah," said the lad, and opened his palm for mspection. [295J Other Tales "Yes— it's gone down deep, and I shell have to cut to get it out." "Oh, Lard! no, sah! me will meek it stop so till to-morrow, Docta'!" "Oh, no! you 'd better have it out now or it may fester in there." "Chow! Son-son, you don' hab as much heart as a cockroach ! Doctor, you want me to hoi' de buoy for : -n, sah? Ehey, sah?" "Yes— hold him." Son-son waited for nothing more, but turned and ran down the passage at the top of his speed, Reuben in hot pursuit. The race was not a fair one, and very soon the small boy was writhing in the strong grip of his big friend, who carried him bodily up to where "Doctor" stood smiling— he under- stood the negro nature thoroughly. "Now, Reuben," he said, "you hold out his arm so— and don't let him move. Fran- cella, give me that knife on the window sill ther-j. Now, Son-son, if you don't open your hand this minute, I will cut your fingers off!" [296] "Busha" Chicken Son-son opened his hand, shut his eyes tight, and long before the knife touched him was yelling at the top of his voice, while Keuben, grinning with delight, held him as in a vise. "There! stop your bawling, the thing is out and hardly a drop of blood spilt. Shame of yourself! why Francella would n't cry to have her hand cut, would you, Francey?" "No, sah!" said the little girl, putting her finger m her mouth and wriggUng herself like a fat snake. "Come, then, let me see if you haven't somethmg that wants cutting out." Francella only grinned and put both her hands behind her back, chicken and hat included. "Reuben, catch that giri, and bring her to me, "Doctor" called, and Reuben, nothing loath, made a dive at Francella. who, in trymg to dodge him, tumbled backwards into a vat of half cured liquor. Immediately the crowd that had peeped 1=97] Other Tales at Son-son's agony through doors, windows, and cracks in the partition wall, were on the spot, exclaiming, directing and getting in the way generally, while "Doctor," the only one capable of useful action, was trying to fish the poor little thing out of her slimy bath. At last he got a good hold on her frock and dragged her to the edge, where a dozen swarthy hands were ready to help take her out, and lay her down, for the child was suffocating and only half conscious. "Get out of the way there, you black devils!" cried the bookkeeper as he dropped on his knees beside Francella, and with his handkerchief wiped from her nose, mouth, and eyes, the thick scum that covered them. He tore open the throat of her poor cotton frock and putting his hand over her heart, satisfied himself that she was not in much danger, in fact more frightened than hurt. "Docta,' de pick'ney [child] dead, sah?" asked an ol 1 woman, anxiously. "No." [298] "But, Docta!" "Well?" " Vou don -t fink say him blood goin' to congeal so meek manification set in sal. >° Go bout your business and don't bother mc with journonsense. " "Me no talkin' nonsense! you bockra [white people) nebber fink sav n T anvt',-n„ t, / . ' '"'^ ^aj "'-■ager know anyting but w-endepickncy dead you will be sorry you wouldn't lissen to Wat a- ole Oman got to say 'pon dcse f ings " Franee„a suddenly sat up. which stopped he old woman's ehatter and startled the owd around her. She rubbed her eyes and gazed ah.ut',-Hldly. then asked: 'Whe ,>ve? Son-son had forgotten the chieken. so taken up was he with his sister's unhappy he had been shot and peered into the vat Reuben had heard the question, too, and an or one of the big ladles used in cooling the hquor. Now was his chance of seeing [299] Other Tales that mysterious peadove, and he meant to use it. Returning he went over to " Doctor, " and said : "Sah! dem want you at de centrifigle, sah!" Doctor had hardly disappeared through the door when the wily Reuben dipped his ladle into the vat and scraped all around most carefully. "Wat you t'ink you lookin' for, Reuben?" asked Son-son angrily. "Dat 's w'at I doan know meself!" he re- plied with a wicked grin, as the ladle scooped harder than ever. "You sure is peadove did into dat hat?" "Yes, I sure, sure!" "Sartin?" "Sartin as I Uvin'!" "Den look out, for I got him now," and the ladle came slowly up one side of the vat. As soon as it appeared at the top, Son-son stooped to grasp it, but Reuben quickly pulled it toward himself and seizing the un- [300J fortunate chicken by its legs, heldit high in •'Give it to me. Reuben, give it to me, I tell you! han^ ^'""^l ""^ '^'"^- ''"'^'"S >' i" both hands he made a careful examination of his pnze. "Wei,.- he said at las, "dis is de firs' toe smce I see peadove wid comb 'pon dem head,_an b:g so! Son-son, you is a Hard- 1 teU Docta 'pon you." Reuben laughed. "Tell him den- Is dontmebruckdefowlneck, sow'atme care? 1 1 mk I will jus ' go ask Docta if him ebber see dis here breed of peadove before- hrm^^know all 'bout insec' an' such like '■You would n- fit! you would n- fit go show dattmg to Docta." Son-son declared em- pnatirally. "Francella," said Reuben, going over to the httle girl. "Francella, is dis for you?" [301] Othcx Tales "No," said FranceUa hesitatingly, "doan for me. " "Now, Son-son, you hear Francella say dis is not for her bud, so you better teck de ladle an' look agen, perhaps you will fin' de peadove after all ! De chicken I fine doan get owner, so I got a right to keep it for me- self! Good-by, me buoy; I t'ank de Lord dat me ma nebber teach me for set trap an' ketch t 'lugs' dat doan belong to meself!" With which pious thanksgiving, he vanished down the steps and left Son-son staring after him, stupefied. On recovering he turned to his sister, and ia tones of the deepest conviction said: "Francella, I did tell you already dat you is de foolishes' gal I ebber see since I bam- but Lard, I did n't know it was so truth till now!" Poor little nigger! she had done her best and this was her reward— at least, some of it, for her mother and the tamarind switch did their part when she got home. [302] How Puss Come to Ketch Rat (An Anancy Story) QNE day Puss an' Rat harness dem horse out w.'!''"'^''^"''*"^''^^yt° drive oat W en dem go little way, dem come to one house an' Rat tell Puss say him mus' wa.thttle for him because him want to gol de house, but him will soon come out again. So Rat get out of de buggy an- go in de house an-todeldtchenan-derehimseeonep -d nee bum at de bottom an- him get iL da pot an- begin to scrape, scrape until d pot turn over on him an' cover him up, den '/"^,^^"*°-«S -'Puss outside heJrde singm an go into de house to look for Rat Puss hear de scrape, scrape onder de pot an' I303I Other Tales as him lif ' it up an' see Rat ondemeat' him know dat Rat did deceive him an' him ketch Rat an' pop him neck, an' from dat time Puss always ketch Rat. i t- 1304! Anancy and Tiger (HowTiger Come to Live in deBush) IN de long before time, Anancy an' Tieer * was both coiirtin' a^ an dem was very jealous of each odder so one day Anancy hin, go to de young tdy house an- him say. "You know Bra' Tiger -not'mg else dan me fader oleridin'horse '• De young lady was vex' an' say she doan ittTou'::^' ^ ^-- -- -^ ^ P-e .. °' r ' *™^ '^'e^^ «-"« to see her she say. Go way wid you, you is a shurance [im- Pertmentl man to come courtin' boclcTa wuejadywenyouknowyouisnofing dut a ole ndm' horse." yord?''"'"'°"'"^' "Iknowwhotell you dat, .snot a soul 'ceptin'dat Hard An- [305J Other Tales ancy an' I will jus' go to him house now an' meek him come an' tell you himself dat it is alie." An' Tiger go straight to Anancy house but Anancy see him comin' t'roo de winda an' Anancy know well w'at bring Tiger to him house dis time of day so Anancy meek haste an' get into de bed an' tie up him head wid handkerchief, an' as Bra' Tiger bounce into de room, Anancy put him han' to him head an 'say : "Oh! do me good Tiger, doan meek noise for I sick unto deat'." Bra' Tiger say, "Sick or not sick, Bra' Anancy, you have to come wid me now an' tell Miss Rose dat you is a Hard w'en you call me you' fader ole ridin' horse." "Oh! Bra', how me to come w'en me doan able to walk?" "You has to come, Anancy, even if I has to carry you, you mus' come." "Well, Bra', if you will carry me I will try an' come but I very sick." An' Anancy (306] Anancy and Tiger an tell Anancy to gefpon him back, an- h^mcLdn- able to hold on an- tumble do J pon de bed again. Den Tiger say, "Well Anancy. I see dat you is well sic/in trut^ but you „,U3' come wid me all de same." Den Anancy say. "Well. Bra', if you will walk ponyou-four foot perhaps I coid ho. on better. an> I has a little saddle here if you -eck I put de saddle -pon you' b^k perhaps I could manage to hold on" T,ger say, "Very well. Anancy." an' him go do^ .pon him four foot an"Iow Anancy toput de saddle 'pon Hm back, an'demstarl off aga.n but dem jus' gone one step an' Anancy tumble off Bra' Tiger back an' say ^- c^ hold on widouten bridle to help pon h.m head an' bit into him mout' an' dem start off again, but dem doan gone far w en Anancy begin to holler say "'oh' Bra Tiger. I beg you doan go so fas' else I Other Tales will dead. Do me good, Bra", give me one little spur so I can jus' touch you w'en you goin' too fas'." An' Tiger give Anancy de spur an' dem go long little farder till jus' as dem come to de town w'ere Miss Rose live, Anancy say, " Do r o good, Tiger, give me a whip so I can brush de fly from off you for you' ears is full of dem," an' Tiger pick a switch an' give Anancy an' dem go on till dem ketch to de town w'ere Miss Rose live an' jus' as dem come to Miss Rose house, Anancy lay de whip 'pon Tiger back an' dig dt spur into him side till Tiger 'blige to gallop an' as dem ketch to Miss Rose house door, Anancy jump off an' dere was Miss Rose standin' to see dem come, an' Anancy meek a mashin' bow to de lady an' says to her, "Wat I tell you? You see now dat Tiger is me fader old ridin' horse!" Tiger v^as dat shame him teck to de bush an' dere him live ever since, but Anancy married Miss Rose an' live in a house. [308] Anancy and Dog QNEdayAnancygotoa'oIeladyhouse an 'I'mseeonegoatskindatdeolelaHv ^terT T"" *° "'"''' ^ tambourine an' after mm meek de tambourine, him i„vi"e aS,';°:"''°^°^"'P'^3'de tambourine a baU him was goin' to rive n„„ a iotodeoleladyhouseariuherl^T an' de , ™ T^ ^ '-^-« -d de olelady come to de hnll o^ • u ■ "^ TO ae DaU an bnng one Constable wid dem to teck de t 'ief. torb"n'f'''"'"'''^°'^«-*'™come to de ball. Anancy teck up detune an' com -encetoplayan'himtelldeoleladytork - --^^t -not her goatskin w'atn!::' (309J Other Tales de tambourine, an' him play say, "Moder an' Fader los' dem velvety goatskin an' dis is it de Bohimbo got here." Den de ole lady go up an' look 'pon de tambourine an' she see dat it was her goatskin an' she teck up [arrested] Bohimbo. Den Bohimbo say Dawg employ him to play de tambourine, an' Dawg say it was Anancy dat give him de tambourine to play an' Anancy deny de charge but dem go to court an' Anancy declare him never give no tambourine to Dawg, so dem fine Dawg an' Bohimbo an' prison dem an' Anancy go free. [310] Anancy and His Family pVERY day Anancy say idm goin' look loot ^^u'° ^' "^ ^''^^ *™« him go to l<^kyamh.n,getoleyam.an-Wenhin,Le home w,d d.s ole yam, him wife an ' pick'ney [ch.M«„ did n't know de name of L yam ruti:TnT'A'^^^^'^'^^^-''-«^- put It into de bip diQii o« > „u j «^--i .,- ., " ®'* '^o'^ over it wid him wife an 'pick'ney Now Anancy wanted was to eat it all him- ^If. so him give out order say. "Who know de name can eat, who doan know de name -s„et,.,„.^,„^,^^^^^^^^^n^^^^^ ceptm Anancy one. him eat off de whole hkedat'? ""• «™ -"^^-ally done ^ke dat; every time him come wid de yam h>m eat all of it himself so Tacooma sayt hmimoder one day dat him will have to fin° out we re him fader gettin'dese yam from, fsiij Other Tales 111 So de marnin' w'en him fader was goin* of! before day, Tacooma get up de same time an' t'row some ashes into him basket an' cut one little hole in de basket bottom. All de time Anancy goin' alon-^, de ashes drop right along an* Tacooma fciiow de track of de ashes till him ketch to one big flat rock; as him ketch to de flat rock him say, "No need go any fu-dcr." Now Anancy comin' home has to wn ik 'pon dis flat rock so Tacooma turn Dae!: .ome an" get a basket of ockro an' him ctriy it to de flat rock an' mash up de ockro on de flat rock to make it slippery, den him go to one side an' hide in de bush till liim see Anancy comin' wid do basket on him head. Anancy come direc* on to de rock an' as him ketch on it him tumble down an' every bit of de yam mash up. As Anancy go to pick up de yam dem, him say "Lard! poor me Anancy; all me ole yam maah up!" As Tacooma hear dat, him run out an' teck a short cut home, an' w'en him ketch to de (3"I Anancy and His Family hou-. hi- te„ hin, n,odcr say de yam „a„,e ole yam . so dat night w-. Anancy get home wid de yam an' after dem boil an' dem was Mttm' down to eat. Anancy say know de name can't eat." Den everybody holler out for "ole yam." Anancy get vc.y vex' an' quarrel say Tac- cooma play him a trick, so him give up diggin ' an' teck to growin' duckanoe. f- THE END bl3l •^ detection from the Catalogue of C. P. PUTNAM'S SONS Complete Ceflo^ue .eat on •ppUoetion Johnnie Courteau And Other Poems ™ai,,$..'37; ^-- octavo, g.,., op. m^^tr^f ^notogravure edition with i, / n " * • net $1.3', K'^vure, and text cuts from P'«? '""'''^«''°ns « photo Kit top in a bo^« S 4°i^7/^'-' designs, otti "Johnnie Courteau" and «TI," «!• ''"^'•''' « vols., ;5^ calf. Sets only The Habitant » net $5.00 Johnnie Courteau" and "Th. iJmited to Habitant." " ^'» i'hil-o-Runi s Canoe ^p"Sre^-l,SS^^^^^^^ Wfth fiv. Crown octavo . . _ "^^ Frederick Simpson Coburn: Tn'Pl.l.., . _ ' ' • . . 75cts. Bre,th« throughout the odm.. .„^ ^.r"*-. fount, af tea™ "• to stir the I ' Vi4 By WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMONi: The Voyageur And Other Poems ILLUSTRATED BY FREDERICK S. COBUBV , Unifonn with the earlier work.. »»I«1« Edition. Crown ocUvo, gilt top. mmr.t^ (B, n«fl. ^.j,- fhotociBTnre Edition, with i6 fuU-page photomvure IIIb*.,. "A •''» gilt top, m a box. (By mail Jj 65) "°"- OcUto, The Habitant vn.h^"?.^/''" French-Canadian Poems rop«l«t