IC-NRLJF 
 
 RGB 
 ING- 
 
 J\ TON M 
 JONESi 
 
 Christies Gi/t 
 TK^t Weixt 
 
 RUTH 
 
 MSENERY 
 STUART 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 A CHRISTMAS GIFT THAT 
 WENT A-BEGGING 
 
" When he jerked the bell at the Lion Gate he nearly 
 pulled it out." 
 
 Sff page 44. 
 
GEORGE 
 WASHINGTON 
 JONES 
 
 A CHRISTMAS GIFT 
 THAT WENT A-BEGGING 
 
 BY 
 
 RUTH MCENERY STUART 
 
 AUTHOR OF " NAPOLEON JACKSON," 
 
 "SONNY," "A GOLDEN WEDDING," 
 
 "MORIAH S MOURNING," ETC. 
 
 With Pictures by Edward Potthast 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 HENRY ALT EMUS COMPANY 
 
Copyright, 1903, by Henry Altemus. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I. MERRY CHRISTMAS ! 13 
 
 II. " SAME TO You, SIR" .... 24 
 
 III. THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD ... 38 
 
 IV. SARAH 49 
 
 V. THE LIONS CALL 59 
 
 VI. BUTTONS AND BRAVERY ... 76 
 
 VII. ANGELS IN THE AIR . . , . .85 
 
 VIII. SIDE-CURLS AND OLD-TIME BEHAVIOR . 94 
 
 IX. GEORGE SEES A VISION . . . . 106 
 
 X. THE YOUNG LADY OF THE GOLD HARP 117 
 
 XI. A BOY GRANDFATHER . . . .125 
 
 XII. How IT ALL CAME OUT ... 132 
 
 (vii) 
 
 412643 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 " When he jerked the bell at the Lion Gate 
 he nearly pulled it out " . Frontispiece 
 
 " Wush t I was a little purtier, he lamented" 28 
 " Black em ! " . . . . . . .34 
 
 " * Yas m, I is bigger ! he insisted. Hit s deze 
 
 heah pants " . . . . . .46 
 
 " A man like dat oould easy be a Christmas 
 
 gif" 128 
 
 (ix) 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 A CHRISTMAS GIFT THAT 
 WENT A-BEGGING 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 JONES 
 
 A CHRISTMAS GIFT THAT WENT A-BEGGING 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MERRY CHRISTMAS 
 
 IT is sad to be little and poor and black, 
 and to have no relations. 
 It is sad at any time, but on Christ 
 mas it seems even more so, for at this 
 blessed season all the blessed things of 
 life appear to count for more than on 
 ordinary days. 
 Little George Washington Jones waked 
 
 [13] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 early on Christmas morning, and he saw 
 the stockings stuffed with toys hanging 
 before the mantel but he lay very still. 
 He did not feel like getting up. 
 
 Even when the other children waked 
 and began scrambling for their stock 
 ings, he kept his eyes shut and did not 
 move, although he did really peep with 
 the eye next the blanket just to see what 
 they were getting. 
 
 He peeped as long as it did any good 
 to peep; but one can t see anything when 
 tears keep coming and coming, and so 
 after awhile George just closed his eyes, 
 and didn t try to see any more. 
 
 But he could hear. He heard Pete s 
 tin horn even before he heard Pete say, 
 "Hello! List n at my ho n!" And 
 presently he heard little wheels rattling 
 on the floor, and a drum, and after a while 
 there were loud reports of a toy pistol, 
 
 [14] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 and he smelled the powder, and he said 
 to himself, "I hears Christmas an I 
 smells it, too!" which just about ex 
 pressed it. 
 
 And he cried softly Vay down in his 
 little stomach under the blankets. 
 
 George stayed in bed as long as he 
 dared until he smelled the bacon frying 
 for breakfast, in fact and then, of 
 course, he had to get up, and he made a 
 brave effort to behave in as natural a 
 way as possible, and not to show that he 
 felt lonely. Indeed, when he went into 
 the kitchen, where the family were, and 
 he saw all the children s new Christmas 
 things, he tried to be pleased. 
 
 And so he was in a way but his lip 
 wouldn t quite behave itself and stop 
 trembling. And then when little Tom s 
 mother, Caroline, said to him, "Let 
 George blow yo horn a little while, 
 
 [15] 
 
GEORGE \VASHINGTON JONES 
 
 son," he couldn t blow it to save his 
 life. 
 
 And when they all saw how he felt, and 
 little Luce Ann broke all the stomach out 
 of her candy cow and gave it to him, and 
 M ria Jane offered to let him play her 
 jew s-harp, and even the baby, seeing 
 that something was wrong, toddled up 
 and wanted to kiss him, he suddenly 
 started to bawl aloud. 
 
 And then he was ashamed of bawling, 
 and began wiping his eyes on his sleeves 
 and saying "Dog-gone!" to try to ap 
 pear more manly. 
 
 And then old Uncle Ben called him 
 over to where he sat and patted him on 
 the head, and said, " Don t fret, honey. 
 Gord knows best," which was the worst 
 of all, as it reminded him that his grand 
 father had died only three days before, 
 and that he hadn t a relation in the 
 
 [16] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 world, and was only staying with "Aunt 
 Caroline," who wasn t his real aunt at 
 all, just for a few days, "until something 
 could be done for him. 
 
 His grandfather had often spoken to 
 him of "going home," and told him he 
 might have to go suddenly, and that his 
 little grandson would be lonely for a time 
 but that, after a while, * it would pass 
 off." 
 
 And he warned him that he would 
 almost surely have hard times for a 
 while harder than he himself had ever 
 had, because, as he expressed it, he had 
 "lived in clover" all his life. 
 
 He had been selected by his master 
 from five hundred field hands, in the old 
 slave days, and sent as a Christmas gift 
 to the loveliest and sweetest mistress in 
 all the world. 
 
 This was when he was a tiny boy, 
 
 [17] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 younger than George, and he had "f om 
 dat time for rd, jest lived right along 
 wid de quality, so he said. 
 
 The story of his life was one upon 
 which he had loved to dwell. It was like 
 a beautiful fairy-tale, in which the young 
 mistress was the princess and old Solon 
 or young Solon, as he was then the 
 little black page always at her elbow 
 when needed. Like most of the old plan 
 tation stories, it ended with " an den 
 de war come." 
 
 The sad time since the war George 
 almost remembered, or he thought he did, 
 for his name had been in it whenever his 
 grandfather told it; and it was not in 
 any way like a fairy tale. 
 
 Everything was different. The plan 
 tation was gone to strangers, and all the 
 old white folks were dead, and their chil 
 dren scattered and now even old Solon 
 
 [18] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 had "gone home," too, and here was 
 George left just George, ten years old, 
 little, black, sensitive, not very strong 
 just George. 
 
 George knew that "Aunt Ca line" had 
 all the children she needed already, and 
 so she wouldn t want any second-hand 
 boys "for keeps." It was very kind 
 of her to let him stay for a while. 
 
 Indeed, to tell the truth, little simple- 
 hearted George Washington Jones would 
 not have been satisfied to belong to Aunt 
 Ca line, even if she had wished it, and the 
 reason seems almost funny, until one un 
 derstands it. 
 
 It was because she was colored. 
 
 He was black, himself, it is true, and 
 so had been his grandfather and all his 
 near relations, and he never would have 
 thought of objecting to the color of his 
 own family. 
 
 [193 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 But when it came to attaching himself 
 to strangers to "b longin ," as he ex 
 pressed it to himself that was another 
 thing. All his people had lived with 
 "folks," and when an old-time darkey 
 says "folks," he means quality white 
 folks, "none o yo po white trash." 
 
 His grandfather had begun service 
 standing behind his young mistress s 
 chair, fanning her, while she practiced 
 her music lessons, lifting the heavy books 
 from the rack and putting them back, and 
 then he had led her horse to the door 
 and arranged her skirts while she placed 
 her little foot in the stirrup, which he 
 adjusted. Then he had ridden behind 
 her, to be on call if she should need him. 
 And when she had married he had been 
 her coachman. 
 
 The little boy thought a great deal 
 about all this while he lay on his pallet 
 
 [20] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 under Aunt Ca line s roof. He knew 
 changes were coming for him, and he 
 wondered, when all should be settled, 
 what sort of i i folks he would have and 
 how he was to get them. 
 
 It was while he lay there two nights 
 before Christmas that a plan came into 
 his mind. And while he was turning it 
 over, Pete, who lay in the next pallet, 
 said aloud: "Day after to-morrow 11 
 be Christmas." And then all the chil 
 dren began wondering what Santa Claus 
 would fetch them. And some one asked 
 George what he wanted, and he said he 
 wouldn t tell. This made them curious, 
 and so they began guessing. 
 
 " Is it a toot-horn ? said one. 
 
 "Better n dat!" replied George. 
 
 "Is it a wagon?" 
 
 "Better ndat!" 
 
 "Is it a roller-horse?" 
 
 [21] 
 
 Washington Jone*. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 " No, better >n dat!" 
 
 < < Well-is it gold 1" 
 
 "Better ndatl" 
 
 " Silver ?" 
 
 "Better ndat!" 
 
 " Diamonds !" 
 
 "Better n dat! " 
 
 "Oh, shoo! Dey ain got no better n 
 dat ! The guessers were impatient, and 
 so they changed the form of their ques 
 tion. 
 
 "Does you expec to git it?" asked 
 Pete, rising on his elbow. There was 
 doubt expressed ^in his question, and 
 George resented it. 
 
 " Yas, I expects to git it," he answered, 
 with spirit. "You reckon I gwine fool 
 my time away, wushin for somVn 
 nother I ain t got no chance o gittin ?" 
 
 Pete dropped on his pillow to think it 
 over, and Tom called out from the crib: 
 
 [22] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "Who gwine to fetch it to you? Santa 
 Clans ! 
 
 George hesitated just a moment. Then 
 he answered: 
 
 Nobody ain t gwine fetch it to me. I 
 wouldn t trus em. I gwine arter it 
 myself. 
 
 This was really very interesting, and 
 if Pete and the other children wondered 
 over it, so did George himself. 
 
 Under fire of their persistent question 
 ings, he had rashly committed himself to 
 a plan which had popped into his head 
 barely five minutes before, and it was a 
 plan which would change his whole life. 
 
 And after this he refused to say an 
 other word on the subject. The fact is, 
 he was too much excited over it to trust 
 himself to speak aloud, and it was one of 
 those things which grow more exciting 
 the more they are thought about. 
 
 [23] 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 "SAME TO YOU, SIB" 
 
 THE Christmas gift which George had 
 wished for that he declared he 
 was going to have was no less than 
 this : 
 
 It was a beautiful young mistress. 
 
 In speaking of the great day of his life, 
 his grandfather had often said: "Of 
 co se, when I was give to my yo ng-lady- 
 mistus, by dat same ac she was give to 
 me, for my Christmus gif . You can t 
 give a pusson a servant widout givin de 
 servant a boss. 
 
 And so, at this critical moment, when 
 his standing among the children was 
 
 [24] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 being impeached, George made the de 
 cision of his life. 
 
 He would be a Christmas gift to some 
 great, fair lady of high degree. There 
 were many beautiful women living in 
 the handsome houses along Prytania 
 Street in the lovely places where the 
 lawns and stables and carriage-ways 
 were. 
 
 He would simply start out on Christ 
 mas morning, ring the bell at a gate 
 where one of the " fairy-ladies" lived, 
 and tell her that he was her Christmas 
 gift, and that would settle it. 
 
 He became suddenly so full of the idea 
 that he slipped away after breakfast and 
 took a long walk, studying up the differ 
 ent places, so as to decide where to go 
 next morning. 
 
 There was one, which was very tempt 
 ing, where a crowd of boys played in the 
 
 [25] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 yard, but it did not satisfy his imagina 
 tion. 
 
 To do this there would have to be the 
 young mistress, a sweet " beauty-lady, " 
 and he would like her to have long yellow 
 curls, and, if possible, he would have her 
 play on a gilt harp, as his "grand- 
 daddy s mistus" had done. 
 
 Of course, however, he could not insist 
 on the harp. When young ladies played 
 the harp, in all probability they gener 
 ally played it indoors, and little colored 
 boys passing along the street couldn t 
 tell of a certainty who played harps and 
 who didn t. 
 
 George walked a long way this morn 
 ingup one side of the street and down 
 the other, but he could not make up his 
 mind. When he got home supper was 
 ready, but as soon as it was over he 
 slipped to the garret-room, and, going to 
 
 [26] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 his little hair-trunk, selected his " Sun 
 day clo es, and began trying them on. 
 
 He wanted to realize what manner of 
 Christmas gift he was going to appear. 
 The "pants" had belonged to a bigger 
 boy before they became his, and they had 
 to be "gallused up" pretty high; and the 
 coat was rather short in the sleeves ; and 
 his shoes were not mates, one being black 
 and the other tan. But he had a white 
 shirt which he had worn only once to 
 his grandfather s funeral and a mili 
 tary cap and when he presently glanced 
 at himself in the mirror of the children s 
 bureau, he said: "White shirts and 
 soljer caps dey sho does set a pusson 
 off!" 
 
 A great many poor children, both 
 black and white, wore old soldier caps in 
 those days, gray or blue left-overs from 
 the war, just as they happened to get 
 
 [27] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 them. George s was blue, and it had a 
 bullet-hole in it which made him feel very 
 dangerous whenever he wore it. 
 
 The cracks in the old mirror divided 
 him into sections as he strutted before it, 
 but, by a very simple effort of the im 
 agination, he reconstructed a very pre 
 sentable "little nigger. " 
 
 He thought of himself in this way, 
 because he remembered that when his 
 grandfather was sent as a Christmas 
 present, there was a little paper tied to 
 his arm by a blue ribbon, and on it were 
 written these lines : 
 
 "I m a little Christinas nigger, 
 I ain t very big, 
 But I 11 soon grow bigger." 
 
 These lines were written as a playful 
 introduction by his young mistress s 
 father, and were merrily received. 
 
 George would have liked a "po try 
 
 [28] 
 
" Wush t I w >as a little pur tier * he lamented." 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 verse of his own making to pin to him 
 self, but that was impossible, as he barely 
 knew his primer. He could recite these 
 same lines, though, as he approached the 
 young lady of his choice, and so he would. 
 
 He was a "little nigger, " and they 
 would just suit. 
 
 He moved back a few paces, courtesied 
 to the glass, and, after slowly repeating 
 the words, he stopped and critically sur 
 veyed himself. 
 
 "Wush tl was a little purtier," he 
 lamented, low in his throat but quite 
 seriously; "but maybe she won t mind, 
 ef I step high an ac mannerly. " 
 
 At which, squaring his shoulders, he 
 strutted back and forth several times. 
 
 When the rehearsal was over, he felt 
 in better spirits, and, slipping off his 
 clothes and hiding them away again, he 
 got into bed and tried to go to sleep. He 
 
 [29] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 could not trust himself to meet any of the 
 children again to-night. "I got too bad 
 a tackt o de dry grins dey d know 
 som h n was up!" he chuckled to his 
 pillow, as he shut his eyes. 
 
 And presently, when he was about half- 
 w^ay to dreamland, he seemed to see his 
 grandfather s face, looking at him 
 proudly, and he thought : 
 
 "Yas, an he ll be prouder yit ef he 
 looks down on me day after to-morrer 
 an sees me wid my new folks." 
 
 And by this time he was all the way 
 into the dream country, and he saw him 
 self a serious little black boy in a Conti 
 nental coat and knee breeches and with a 
 feather in his hat, following behind the 
 new mistress and carrying her book, just 
 as his grandfather had so often described 
 himself as doing in the old days. 
 
 And instead of Aunt Caroline s roof, 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 there seemed beautiful arching trees 
 above his head, and when he turned in 
 his sleep and a real mocking-bird sang 
 lustily under the moon in the honey 
 suckle vine outside Caroline s window, 
 he thought it came from the branches of 
 the dream-trees, loud and clear above the 
 noise of hoofs and carriage wheels rat 
 tling up the drive to the great house all 
 in the dreamland. 
 
 It seems strange that after going to 
 bed with so brave a heart and dreaming 
 dreams so splendid, he should have been 
 so easily upset in the morning ; but when 
 he saw the cheap toys sticking out of the 
 stockings, mocking him with their wooden 
 elbows and their curved eyebrows, some 
 thing unusual seemed to happen Vay 
 down in his little inside, and everything 
 went wrong for some minutes. So he 
 thrust his head under the cover and let 
 
 [31] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 the trouble sob itself away quietly, and 
 he said in his mind, "Ef I had des a 
 f-f-few folks even ef dey was col 
 ored 7 And just about then it was 
 that the other children waked and the 
 great day began. 
 
 When breakfast was over, George felt 
 in better spirits, and he said to himself, 
 * Time for me to be gwine ef I m gwine 
 an 7 I sho is gwine ef de court knows 
 itse f." And he even whistled softly 
 while he climbed the ladder to the garret 
 and began to dress for his journey. 
 
 When he was ready, he selected a few 
 cherished things from his grandfather s 
 remaindings, " tied them with his sur 
 plus garments in an old bandana hand 
 kerchief, attached the bundle to his um 
 brella, " cazen it mought rain," and 
 swinging it before him, he climbed out 
 on the roof, let himself down through a 
 
 [32] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 fig-tree into the yard, and was soon out 
 in the street, his bundle over his shoulder. 
 
 As he looked down at his feet, he re 
 gretted that his shoes were not mates, 
 and he suddenly remembered that an old 
 cobbler and shoeblack, who lived around 
 the corner, had once spoken pleasantly 
 to him, and he thought it would be well 
 just to pass by there. 
 
 The old man had moved his chair 
 inside to-day, but he sat within his 
 door. 
 
 George walked very slowly until he 
 was just opposite him, and then he 
 stopped short and looked down at his own 
 shoes and then at the bootblack. 
 
 Mr. Pat Foley s little blue eyes 
 twinkled. 
 
 "Good moornin to ye! An a merry 
 Christmas an a happy New Year, an 
 manny returns av the same!" he said, 
 
 [33] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 playfully, and then, following the sug 
 gestion of the boy s glances, he added: 
 
 "I see ye Ve brought me a job an a 
 bully job it is! Whip off yer soljer cap 
 and shtep in ! 
 
 "I ain t got no money, " said the boy, 
 hesitatingly. Then, seeing that Mr. 
 Foley was not appalled by his confessed 
 poverty, he hastened to add : 
 
 "But I spec s to be a heap richer- 
 after to-day ef you d trus me 
 
 Thrust northin ! " laughed Pat, but 
 if ye 11 ascind the chair av state, sure 
 I 11 give ye a shine for yer Christmas, so 
 Iwull." 
 
 And, as the boy, grinning, took his seat, 
 he added: 
 
 "Which 11 it be, now? Wull I black 
 the tan boot or tan the congress gaiter 1 
 
 "Which does you think would look de 
 purtiest?" 
 
 [34] 
 
Black 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 George extended both feet for consid 
 eration as he spoke. 
 
 "Well, that depinds," advised Pat. 
 1 Forr a picnic or a thrip on a yacht, I d 
 tan the black one, but if I was starrtin 
 out forr a prisentation to a queen, sure, 
 I d have the two o thim nately blacked. 
 
 " Black em!" snapped George, and, 
 as Pat polished away, he added, timidly : 
 
 "Dey ain t no way o tightenin up de 
 injine-rubber at de sides o de gaiter-one, 
 is dey!" 
 
 "Don t touch that for yer life!" re 
 plied Pat. "Injian-rubber is like a 
 man s conscience. Let go av ut, an 1 
 you ve a bad job. But that shoe be 
 comes you turrible, all the same it wuth 
 its partner across the way. Sure, 
 they re like enough for joy. The hap 
 piest couples in life do be contrasts, wan 
 ag in the other. If I was gettin ye for 
 
 [35] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 a Christmas present, now, to shtand up 
 on me mantel-shelf, I wouldn t take 
 northin for the comical expression o 
 thim two shoes. 
 
 The boy looked quickly into Pat s face. 
 
 "How d you know about it?" he 
 asked, eagerly. 
 
 "Know about what!" said Pat. 
 
 "Why, bout me bein a Christmas 
 gif! I ain t told nobody. De^way you 
 see what s in my head, you mus be hoo 
 dooed. He was grinning all over. 
 
 1 Sure an I am that ! Ye done ut wud 
 yer beauty ! 
 
 Pat s shoulders shook with laughter, 
 and as he put a finishing touch to the 
 shoes, he added : 
 
 "I always know a lad that s borrn av 
 a Christmas be the look in his eye an 
 the way Tils hair currls! Well, there s 
 blessin in a holy day, sure! Here s 
 
 [36] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 good luck to ye an hopin to see ye 
 better shod for life s journey ! 
 
 "He don t know nuthin about it, after 
 all," George chuckled while he strode 
 out the door, grinning appreciation even 
 before he said, replacing his cap while 
 he turned into the street, "Same to you, 
 Mister!" 
 
 This was one of his best "mannerly 
 answers," carefully taught him by his 
 grandfather, who had assured him that 
 it was always a safe thing to say, as it 
 was quite as able to turn an insult back 
 where it belonged as to answer blessings 
 in kind. 
 
 And so, when the boy reached the cor 
 ner and, looking back, saw Pat wave his 
 hand to him from his door, he lifted his 
 cap and called back again, quite loudly 
 this time i 
 
 "Same to you, sir!" 
 
 [37] 
 
 S George Washington Jones. 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD 
 
 T was a lovely Christmas day, warm 
 with a sweet flower-scented breeze 
 from the gardens along Prytania Street 
 everybody in New Orleans knows 
 about Christmases like this and when 
 the Christmas gift started down between 
 the handsome houses that face the street 
 on either side, he held his head high, but 
 his heart thumped so that he panted a 
 little. 
 
 But he would get over this, as there 
 was no hurry. He could ring any gate 
 bell any minute, and before you could 
 say Jack Eobinson he would belong on 
 the inside. 
 
 [38] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 There was a big house somewhere, with 
 two lions of stone guarding the front 
 steps. If he could find this place to-day, 
 he would ask if a yellow-haired lady who 
 played on a gilt harp lived there, and, if 
 so, he would make his bow and his speech 
 and the thing would be done. 
 
 While he was thinking of this and say 
 ing to himself, "I wonder do dem rock 
 lions think I be a-skeered of em, there 
 came out upon the porch of one of the 
 fine houses a lovely young lady, who 
 began to gather roses from the trellis. 
 
 "I 11 take you harp or no harp," he 
 said to himself, and hesitating just a min 
 ute to get a good breath, he reached up 
 and pulled the gate bell. And at that 
 moment exactly, she disappeared in the 
 door and a fat black woman answered 
 his ring. 
 
 "Huccome you foolin wid dat bell, you 
 
 [39] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 sassy nigger?" she called, angrily; so 
 angrily that George decided that he 
 was n t decided whether he wanted to go 
 there to live or not, and so he said : 
 
 l Do de young lady wha live heah play 
 on de jew s-harp?" 
 
 He meant "gold harp," and in 
 deed he thought he had said it. George 
 was quite a performer on the lesser in 
 strument, but his own heart-strings were 
 trembling so that he was like a troubled 
 little harp himself, and no harp ever 
 knows more than to tremble when it is 
 struck. 
 
 "Jew s-harp!" the woman repeated, 
 contemptuously. "You s a-passin 
 yourself in at de wrong gate. Git away 
 f omheah! Scat!" 
 
 It was a long time before George found 
 courage to stop again; but after a while 
 an open gate tempted him and he walked 
 
 [40] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 blandly in, hoping that a fair-haired 
 princess might herself open the door, 
 which, indeed, she happened to do, bnt 
 when she looked down at him and 
 said: "Well?" in a freezing tone, he 
 couldn t have made his speech to save 
 his life. 
 
 "Well?" she repeated. "What do 
 you want?" 
 
 And he answered rapidly: "I don t 
 want nothin ! I was des a-passin 
 by an I I thought I d drap in an 
 an -" 
 
 He had already turned to go, when he 
 heard her say to a servant : 
 
 "Take him around to the kitchen. 
 Maybe he s hungry. 
 
 This was not pleasant in the circum 
 stances, and, although it was a most im 
 polite thing to do, he called out over his 
 shoulder as he neared the gate : 
 
 [41] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "I ain t no beggar! I come to fetch 
 you a present but I done changed my 
 mind!" 
 
 At two other places the servants re 
 fused to show him in unless he would tell 
 his errand, and as he would not offer 
 himself to a mistress whom he had never 
 seen, he had to go away. 
 
 All this took up time, and, besides, it 
 used up courage, which was even more 
 serious. When he had been walking an 
 hour, he had not offered himself to any 
 body. But he kept walking. 
 
 The streets were filling with people 
 going to church, many of them beautiful 
 ladies with kind faces, and he said to him 
 self : "I sho is got a daisy lot to pick 
 an choose from." 
 
 The trouble was he could not pru 
 dently approach them on the street, not 
 knowing what sort of houses they lived 
 
 [42] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 in and when they went into church he 
 lost them. 
 
 He was getting pretty tired, and so, 
 when, after a few more rebuffs, he rang 
 another bell, he called out: "Want a 
 boy in heah?" The Christmas gift part 
 he could bring in afterward if the lady 
 suited. 
 
 But the gate slammed on the servant s 
 No ! " and, shivering, he passed on. 
 
 There was a sweet-looking young lady 
 ahead of him once, and he hastened to 
 overtake her. "Lady," he said, at her 
 elbow, "does you know air nice white 
 oman wha want a lakly boy about my 
 size for a Chr 
 
 Before George could finish his sentence 
 she had dropped a nickel in his hand and 
 hurried on. The boy looked at the coin 
 and his eyes filled. 
 
 "Huccome dey all takes me f or a beg- 
 
 [43] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 gar," lie said aloud, "wid dis dis white 
 sliirt on an an all deze clo es?" 
 
 A real beggar, placarded "Blind," sat 
 with a tin cup beside him against a fence 
 near, and George, seeing that when he 
 glanced at the tin cup it moved toward 
 him, looked hard at it, and then at the 
 nickel. 
 
 Then he looked at the fruit-stand across 
 the way, and when he presently passed 
 down the other side there were five 
 bananas in his hand and then four and 
 by the time he reached the gate where the 
 lions were, five empty banana skins lay 
 along the gutter, and their recent fillings 
 were being converted into courage, and 
 the courage was fast permeating George 
 "Washington Jones; so that when he 
 jerked the bell at the "lion gate," he 
 nearly pulled it out, and a great old dog 
 barked at him so suddenly that when the 
 
 [44] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 servant came to the gate there was no 
 one there. 
 
 George was already asking the gar 
 dener at the second gate beyond if his 
 mistress did n t need a little boy. 
 
 She did not need one. 
 
 Nobody answered the next bell, or the 
 next, and at the one beyond, George called 
 out to a servant : 
 
 "Ask de lady o de house do she want 
 a Christmas gif of a liandy little 
 bo-o-o-y!" and as he said it, his lip quiv 
 ered dangerously. 
 
 She didn t want one, either. And 
 after this he offered himself frankly at 
 all the best houses. 
 
 It was growing late, and his umbrella 
 and bundle were getting heavier and 
 heavier. Besides, if the mistresses 
 matched the houses and the gardens, al 
 most any one of them would do now. 
 
 [45} 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 But evidently boys were not in de 
 mand. Nobody wanted one not even as 
 a gift. 
 
 At several houses the people laughed 
 at the idea, and asked him a question or 
 two, and gave him a cake or an apple. 
 One lady did say that she might try him, 
 if he were only a little bigger, whereupon 
 George declared he was bigger! 
 
 "Yas m, I is BIGGEK!" he insisted. 
 "Hit s deze heah pants! Dey make me 
 look little day got so much room in 
 em!" 
 
 And then remembering his poem, he 
 placed his hand on his breast and recited 
 it bravely. The assembled family fairly 
 screamed with delight over his perform 
 ance, and told him that if he would come 
 around later when the men of the family 
 were at home, and do it over again, they 
 would give him his dinner and a dollar. 
 
 [46] 
 
" Yas m t I is bigger T he insisted. Hit 1 s deze 
 heah pants. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 They seemed to think the whole thing 
 was a joke. 
 
 Evidently they did not know about 
 old-time quality ways. 
 
 The sun was getting low when George 
 turned out of the avenue of noble houses 
 into a side street. 
 
 His stomach was full of assorted gra 
 tuities, and it ached with the unfriendli 
 ness thereof. He did not know what else 
 to do, and so he walked on. 
 
 The neighborhood thinned out, and 
 cheapened as he went, and after a while 
 the heads of families sat in shirt sleeves 
 on the front stoops, and some of them 
 were colored. 
 
 At one gate there was an empty bench, 
 and he sat down. Of course, it was fool 
 ish to come out here, but the very thought 
 of ringing any more bells on the avenue 
 sickened him. 
 
 [47] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 He would not go back to Aunt Ca line 
 and face the children until he should have 
 something to tell. Of course, he would 
 go then. He looked out toward the 
 swamp and back to the avenue, and two 
 great tears came slowly into his eyes 
 and ran over. 
 
 [483 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 SARAH 
 
 AND just then a fat, brown woman 
 wearing a purple calico dress came 
 out of the gate and sat beside him. 
 And when she saw his tears and his bun 
 dle and his old shoes, she took her apron 
 and wiped his eyes and said, softly : 
 
 Nemmine. 
 
 And George put his head in her lap and 
 sobbed, while she smoothed his hair with 
 her warm hand, and she wiped her own 
 eyes. 
 
 Dark comes suddenly on Christmas, 
 and when, after a while, Sarah, the 
 brown woman, walked into the house, 
 
 [49] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 with her arm around the boy, she lit her 
 candle. Then she took off his cap and 
 hung it up, and laid his bundle on a little 
 bed. 
 
 The two must have talked it all out 
 on the little bench at the gate, for 
 they seemed to understand each other. 
 After she lit the candle, she went pres 
 ently and fetched a small tintype and put 
 it in George s hand. It was the picture 
 of a little black boy. 
 
 "Dis is him," she said, "befo* he was 
 took sick." And then she added: 
 "When I looked out an saw yo little 
 legs hangin under the bench, it seemed 
 like he had come back to me. You favors 
 him consid ble in the legs. Yo folks 
 must a made you loney too soon." 
 
 "B-but he was a heap purtier n what 
 I is," George stammered. And the 
 woman, looking him over, said: "You d 
 
 [50] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 look mighty difF ent, baby, git a bandy 
 oman aliolt o you wid a few but 
 tons " And presently she added: 
 "Dat boughten suit he s got on in de 
 picture I got it put away it d jes 
 about fit you, but, of co se, less n you 
 was a mighty good boy " 
 
 "I m feared I ain t good enough not 
 fer dat," George replied, thoughtfully. 
 "I sins awful sometimes. Des a while 
 ago I sassed a white oman, caze I 
 thought she scorned me wid her eye. 
 An den I see she was cross-eyed." 
 
 "Den you ought to tol her dat you 
 was sorry, boy." 
 
 "I would a done it, but she up an 
 flung a brickbat at me. She was a Irish 
 lady." 
 
 There were two at supper that night 
 in Sarah s cabin, and when she went to 
 set the table, she hesitated some time 
 
 [51J 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 before she took from the cupboard a little 
 tin plate with the alphabet pressed into 
 its rim, and set it beside her own. And 
 when George began spelling his name on 
 the plate, she made an excuse to go back 
 to the cupboard for something she did not 
 need, and when she came back she filled 
 his glass, although it was only half 
 emptied. 
 
 Notwithstanding the late lamented 
 bananas and their hasty and disastrous 
 burial, George ate heartily, but the 
 woman only minced, and often she looked 
 tenderly at the boy beside her but the 
 face she saw was the one in the tintype. 
 
 It was a cozy little supper, and after it 
 was over she and her small guest sat and 
 talked as those talk who have always 
 known each other. 
 
 It was still early when she put him to 
 bed for she saw that he was very tired. 
 
 [52] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 He must have confided his whole plan 
 to her, for while she tucked him in she 
 was saying : 
 
 "Yes, I know de lady at de lion gate; 
 she s lookin for a little boy to bresh 
 de flies off n her, an hunt her spec s, an 
 what dat you say? No, dey ain t no 
 yo ng misses in dat house. An de ole 
 lady, she s mighty deef and religious. 
 But she s lookin for a hones little 
 boy widout no kin and I know she d 
 take you in a minute. An you could 
 straddle de lions and play horsey on em, 
 when you war n t busy an you d have 
 brass buttons, an tote a silver tray an 
 take in de ladies visitin tickets an : 
 
 She leaned beside him on the bed now, 
 and, remembering his little colic, she was 
 rubbing her hand gently over his body 
 as she spoke. 
 
 "An ef you stays wid me," she con- 
 
 [53] 
 
 4 George Washington Jones. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 tinned, "you know I takes in washin , an 
 you d haf to help me lif my tubs an 
 empty suds an tote clo es back an 1 
 fo th, too, sometimes. My little Joe, lie 
 was jes as stiddy as a man. He could 
 count change an tell time by de clock 
 but, of co se, you d learn all dat. 
 
 George did not answer right off, but 
 presently he said: "I I I ain t dissi 
 pated, no ways but I ain t sho ef I m 
 stiddy or not, b-b-but I kin tell time! I 
 got gran daddy s silver watch and I got 
 his spec s, too. An maybe dey mought 
 suit yo eyes ef ef " 
 
 Neither one said anything for quite a 
 while, and then the boy spoke again. 
 "Sposen I was to stay w-w-wid you, 
 right along, des so, wh-wh-what kin 
 would you be to me 1 
 
 She leaned nearer him as she answered. 
 
 [54] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "I M be des same as yo mammy, 
 baby." 
 
 There was another silence, and then he 
 spoke again: 
 
 "And does mammies rnb dey little 
 boys belly-aches away dis-a-way, lak 
 you rubbin mine ? 
 
 Dey does, ef it eases em, honey. He 
 used to like me to rub his little pains 
 when he over-e t, or ef he was chilled, 
 maybe but ef it frets you" She 
 began taking her hand away, but he 
 caught it in both his and drew it back. 
 
 Keep orn, he muttered. 
 
 As she began stroking his body again, 
 he turned his head, not seeming to know 
 that he did it, until it just fitted into the 
 soft warm place beneath her chin 
 against her breast and shoulder. 
 
 "An 7 an an wh wh what kin 
 would I be to to you?" he sobbed after 
 
 [55] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 a while. She took a long time to answer 
 this. And then she said: 
 
 * You jes be my little boy. And in a 
 minute she added: ; * Did n t you take 
 notice to dat little plate I give you to eat 
 yo supper out n? He used to spell his 
 name on dat plate, an when I set it out 
 for you, I say to myself: Ef he spells 
 his titles out on it I 11 take it for a sign 
 from Heaven dat is, of co se, ef yon 
 wants to stay." 
 
 For answer, a thin, black arm came 
 from under the cover and lay over the 
 woman s shoulder, and had he not 
 fallen under the mantle of sleep while 
 she talked so long, into her ear would 
 have come a faint whisper : "I gwine to 
 stay. " As it was, the words were never 
 formed, even in his heart, where sweet 
 surrender of sleep held sway. 
 
 And she suddenly knew by his regular 
 
 [56] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 breathing that he slept, and she laid 
 her cheek against his hair, and wet it with 
 her tears. 
 
 When she had presently lifted his 
 head, and with soft, undisturbing mater 
 nal touch, laid it back upon the pillow, 
 she returned to the table in the other 
 room and looked at the little plate and 
 the tintype, and she felt the edge of her 
 old sorrow anew, and she wiped her eyes 
 with her apron while she cleared the 
 table, and set back her own boy s particu 
 lar chair, and hung the blue soldier cap 
 beside the bit of faded felt still limply 
 shaped to her boy s head behind the door. 
 
 She, did not sit and think or plan to 
 night. She was tired and sleepy, and 
 although the personal touch of the child 
 so like her own had been to her almost 
 like the opening of a grave, she did not 
 forget to put her clothes to soak, or to 
 
 [57] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 water the pot of sweet basil which she 
 kept in her front window. 
 
 Before going to her own bed, however, 
 she sto pped beside the sleeping boy. She 
 even lifted his clothes from the chair be 
 side the bed and held them up before her. 
 
 "De two sho does favor, " she said, 
 softly. "Dey favors in ways mo ndey 
 do in looks, even. An I see he ain t no 
 slouch, nuther. De seat o de breeches is 
 good enough, but dey thin at de knees. 
 He keeps gwine, an an what s dis?" 
 
 She had slipped her fingers into his 
 pocket. 
 
 "Strings an nails! I declare! Dey 
 sho does favor! Even to what dey 11 
 pick up an cherish. Po little man! I 
 wonder is God A mighty done tooken 
 notice to my cravin an sont de chile to 
 me to stay. I wonders!" 
 
 [58] 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE LIONS CALL 
 
 T was fortunate that sleep had over 
 taken the tired child just at the mo 
 ment when all his little bodily ills were 
 being ministered to, and his heart 
 soothed into forgetfulness, for otherwise, 
 in committing himself fully to the new 
 and grateful relationship so sincerely 
 and yet so insidiously offered, as he 
 surely would have done, he would have 
 made a mistake. 
 
 For when he had waked in the morn 
 ing, and after a single bewildered mo 
 ment recovered his bearings, things 
 began rapidly to resume their former 
 values. 
 
 [59] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 Before everything else, he was, of 
 course, his grandfather s grandson. 
 
 When the whole boy was awake, and 
 rested, not only his weary physical part, 
 but his alert spirit and his ambitions, 
 there came with the awakening a sudden 
 humiliating sense of failure. 
 
 Sarah s home was quite comfortable, 
 and her loving ministrations were most 
 disarming, and yet, her poor washer 
 woman s cabin, never free from a subtle 
 odor of the tubs, had to bear comparison 
 in the boy s keen mind with affluent 
 homes in which it seemed to be literally 
 noble service to only stand and wait. 
 
 There were many such, almost cer 
 tainly easily within reach, and the fact 
 that the sentimental entry which he had 
 tried to make had proven a failure in the 
 differing conditions did not prove the boy 
 unfit for such honorable service as had 
 
 [60] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 cheered an old man s life, even in the 
 memory of it. 
 
 The first thing George did was to 
 throw into the fire the bit of paper on 
 which he had laboriously printed his gift 
 speech. He had provided himself with 
 this to bring forth in case of nervous fail 
 ure of speech which sometimes set him 
 stammering. 
 
 He slipped it under the kettle when 
 Sarah was not looking his way, and as 
 he did so, seeing her leave the room, he 
 mumbled : 
 
 "I wonder ef Gord took de trouble to 
 look on, an see what a Christmas fool I 
 made o myself, " and he continued in 
 thought, "de nex time I goes, I 11 go wid 
 common sense an week-day manners. 
 Why ef a boy o my size had a come 
 up to me and axed me to tek him for a 
 Christmas present an no better regu- 
 
 [61] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 lated in his clones I d V knoived he 
 was crazy." 
 
 His idea nowwas to make dignified and 
 judicious application for work such 
 work as would honor the proud old man 
 who had not only set his standards for 
 him, but whose life had always been 
 worthy of them. 
 
 In the clear light of a new day, with 
 his legs rested and his courage as the 
 morning, George s mind seemed quite 
 naturally to swing back to the great gate 
 where the lions continuously crouched. 
 
 He was standing before a window, 
 looking out, when Sarah came in. 
 "Well!" she exclaimed, smiling. "You 
 don t favor de tired little human I put to 
 bed last night. You sho was one tired 
 man. 
 
 "Yas m, I sho was!" the boy an 
 swered, "an I went to sleep widout no 
 
 [62] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 rockin . Dat was half becaze my heart 
 was down. I done had my palate down 
 befo to-day, an had to git somebody 
 to tie up my top lock an wrop it tighter 
 an tighter tel de palate h isted itself. 
 But when a man s heart gits down, I 
 spec dey ain t no way to lif it up not 
 no suddent way. 
 
 "It rises itself, dough, over a good 
 night s sleep," said Sarah; "sleep an a 
 tub o cold water 11 raise anybody s 
 courage. She pointed to the shed door 
 as she spoke. 
 
 "Yonder yo tub, boy! Go jump in! 
 An take dat bar o lye-soap off de wash- 
 boa d an scour yo self good, whilst I 
 sews on a button or so for yer an mend 
 deze galluses. 
 
 "An dey sho does need it!" chuckled 
 George. "Great clo es dey was for a 
 Christmas gif , to be sho ! " 
 
 [63] 
 
GEOEGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "Is you a Christmas gif?" Sarah s 
 heart seemed to jump into her throat 
 when she put the question. 
 
 "No, ma am! I ain t! I got better 
 sense over night ! Seem like in my sleep 
 I must a* seen myself as I is! No won 
 der dey all turned me down! Nobody 
 would n t a took me, de way I looked 
 outside an dey could n t see my heart." 
 
 The woman turned longing eyes to 
 ward the tub, but she said nothing. 
 
 If only he had expressed an unshaken 
 resolve to be this fanciful thing, whether 
 or no, how simple it would have been to 
 settle it ! While she had asked him if he 
 were to be a Christmas gift, she felt her 
 self impelled to go to the bath-tub and 
 to "rub him down" a bit as she had done 
 her own boy. 
 
 But George s answer made her sud 
 denly afraid of suffering. She put his 
 
 [64] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 clothes conveniently for him and went to 
 her stove. 
 
 But when he came to her a few mo 
 ments later, all dressed and with even a 
 dim suggestion of a "part" down the 
 middle of his kinky hair, Sarah bade him 
 be seated, and hastened to pile his plate 
 the same circle of tin with everybody s 
 name on earth hidden in its rim and the 
 bowl of coffee beside it, a great yellow 
 affair with blue stripes for style, was 
 nearly half cream, poured from the top 
 of her milk can. 
 
 "Does you like yo 7 corn-brade cold or 
 het ? Gaze I fixed part bof e ways. 
 
 "Het, please, m am, " he answered, 
 unhesitatingly, and poor Sarah caught 
 her breath as she glanced at the hat and 
 cap hanging together behind the door. 
 And she almost wished he had said 
 1 1 cold if he was not to be a Christmas 
 
 [65] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 gift, after all and this tender episode, 
 soon to be passed, leaving her more con 
 sciously alone than ever, would have one 
 pang less in the retrospect. Her lost boy 
 always wanted his corn-bread heated 
 over, or, as she said it, "het." 
 
 There was great attraction in the at 
 mosphere of Sarah s home and in the 
 place in her affections, which he knew 
 himself to fill. Still the habit of the boy s 
 life had been to project himself so fully 
 into his grandfather s reminiscences that 
 he really felt an air of affluence to be his 
 by a sort of hereditary right. 
 
 "Whar yo toof -picks?" he asked, sud 
 denly, of Sarah, looking calmly out the 
 window as he spoke. 
 
 The yearning woman had been re 
 pressing an eagerness in serving her 
 guest until now, but she suddenly real 
 ized herself a trifle forbearing while she 
 
 [66] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 obediently stepped from her back door 
 and cut several fine thorns from her 
 single orange-tree and laid them beside 
 the boy s plate. 
 
 His quick "Thanky, ma am/ and the 
 alacrity with which he covered them with 
 his little black fingers, was somewhat ap 
 peasing, however, and she even laughed 
 with him while he added : 
 
 "Gaze dey say dat when a man starts 
 out to make his fortune, ef he kin pick 
 his toofs an spit an cuss right smart, 
 he 11 find luck aroun de fus corner an 
 ef dey s on y a clair moon in sight, horn 
 up, so she can t spill out his money for 
 him dey s wealth an riches layin in 
 his path thick for him to gather. 
 
 He had thrust the end of one of the 
 orange-thorns between his lips as he 
 spoke, softening its point and sipping its 
 flavor, as one naturally treats an orange- 
 
 [67] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 thorn, and presently lie spat with fine 
 spirit and aim through an opening in the 
 honeysuckles beyond the window. 
 
 1 1 never cusses, he added, presently, 
 "an* I ain t gwine to practice it now. I 
 can t see how it could help a man in de 
 right way not reel cussin . I has my 
 own cuss-words, but dey s private an 
 des middlin bad." 
 
 He spat again using the same right of 
 way as before. 
 
 i i I could hit a mark dat way nine times 
 out o eight ef dey had dat many," he 
 remarked, dryly; "but I wasn t aimin 
 to hit dis time. I aimed to miss an I 
 done it, too. 
 
 "Miss what?" said the .suddenly 
 doubting Sarah. "Dat s a purty big 
 brag for a man o yo size." 
 
 "Dey s a last year s bird nest in dem 
 dry honeysuckle tangles, an I never 
 
 [68] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 harms no nest whilst de owner s away 
 but ef you 11 gimme som h n round, 
 I 11 land it in de nest for yer. One o 
 dem ole swiveled chiny-berries 11 do. 
 I 11 put a last year berry in his last year 
 nest, an maybe de bird 11 think he for 
 got it, whilst he was movin on. Dey 
 tas es wuss n bermafuge, but it won t 
 stay in my mouf to hurt. Beach me one, 
 please ma am." 
 
 The china-trees grew low above the 
 bench at Sarah s door, and "just for the 
 fun of the thing," she stepped out and 
 brought in a bunch of the berries. 
 
 "Keep yo eye on it!" the boy ex 
 claimed, lowering his head a trifle while 
 he sent a missile quite into the heart of 
 the clump. "Now, go look in," he 
 laughed, grasping his bundles, "caze I 
 mus be gwine. Yas, I see you found it, 
 but leave it alone ! Dat s a robin s nest, 
 
 [69] 
 
 5 George Washington Jones, 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 an 7 he s a poor builder. But ef he comes 
 back dey s one good drunk in dat berry 
 for him dat an what he 11 pick out o* 
 de tree when his appetite s started. 
 I used to ketch my robins drunk in de 
 grass under the chiny-trees, an sober 
 em up an sell em, but dey ain t 
 much money in em. Br ilin em for 
 gran daddy paid better. Him an his 
 pickaninny, we used to have our good 
 times, you bet! Well, so long, Aunt 
 Sarah! An thanky, ma am, once mo . 
 I got dat big bundle o lunch, an I 11 be 
 chewin an thinkin about you long befo 
 you d advise me to eat it ef you was 
 along, I reckon." 
 
 "Maybe it s jest as well," Sarah 
 thought as she hastily threw a tear from 
 her eye. "He ain t no common Chile 
 an he mought a gimme trouble." 
 
 She was wrapping her half loaf in a 
 
 [70] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 damp towel, and had stooped before the 
 cupboard to put it in. 
 
 "Yit an still," she added, as she lifted 
 herself from contemplation of her cold 
 larder, "yit an still, I d ruther take 
 my trouble out n a full heart n an empty 
 one ef it was Gord s will." 
 
 She thought the boy had gone, but 
 when she went to the door, really intend 
 ing to follow him with her eye, she dis 
 covered him standing in the gateway, ten 
 feet or more beyond her door-step. Her 
 tread was soft, and so George had not 
 discovered her when he turned back. 
 
 "I been standin here, sayin it over, 
 to see who s it/ he said, quite as calmly 
 as if he were remarking about the 
 weather. i I took dis sycamo -tree on de 
 banquette* to stan on for you an Ides 
 took me for me, an I said: 
 
 * Banket, used for sidewalk in New Orleans. 
 [71] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 " Eena, meena, mina, mo, 
 Cracka feena, fina, fo, 
 Omanoocba, popatoocha, 
 King, ding, dang, do P 
 
 an , of co se, you bein de onliest lady in 
 de game, I give you de start at de 
 sycamo -tree but but I m it! An dat 
 means I m boun to lead off. Ef I had 
 acted de coward, an named myself fust, 
 behin yo back, you d a been it an 
 I d a had to come back an put down 
 deze bundles an go to you for orders. 
 But I in my own man now, an I mus be 
 up an gittin . Dey ain t no time to lose; 
 Dat lion gate !" 
 
 He hesitated here, and glanced at the 
 woman, and his voice betrayed a lower 
 ing of tone while he added : 
 
 " T ain t dat I d class you wid stone 
 beases t ain t dat but seem, some way, 
 dat dem rock lions is callin me, an I 
 [72] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 bleeged to go. An dat deef ole lady, 
 maybe she mouglit be on de lookout for 
 me ef she been pray in wid faith for a 
 handy little boy. 
 
 Sarah s fond eyes passed lovingly over 
 his little figure while, bundle in hand to 
 go forth into the great world and yet 
 frankly confessing his temptation to re 
 main with her, he so manfully confided 
 his plans. 
 
 "Dat s so," she said, simply, when he 
 had done. "Dat s so, an ef you feels a 
 call to go, yo Aunt Sarah would n t stop 
 you. But dem shoes ! I d hate to see 
 you clap de knocker on dat high gate 
 twix dem two lions wid dem shoes on. 
 Dey ain t even to say fellers, is dey? 
 not perzacly. 
 
 Even while she was speaking she had 
 turned away, and in a moment George 
 was sitting down while she tried upon his 
 
 [73] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 feet a somewhat mouldy pair of half- 
 worn brogans. 
 
 "Ef deze 11 fit yo foots, dey could be 
 polished up, an dat lion-lady, she 
 would n t take no further notice. Dey 
 war n t quite fit for him to wear to his 
 own fun al not wid de new half soles off 
 de ground so I put em away till some 
 needy man mought claim em. 
 
 The shoes proved a most satisfactory 
 fit- that is, they "went on" and "did n t 
 pinch," and, indeed, when a stiff wad of 
 paper in them had given their toes a sort 
 of lift, George s delight was complete. 
 
 "Tell you what, a man could cut 
 curves in deze ! " he exclaimed, while he 
 stepped out bravely. "Dey calls for 
 manners an behavior an a walkin - 
 cane wouldn t faze em, nuther. But I 
 sho does wush t I had some sort o pri 
 vate hat, stid o* dis heah soljer-cap. 
 
 [74] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 Co se, I likes it, but, right now, wid deze 
 mixed clo es, seem like it locations all my 
 bravery in my head. 
 
 "How 11 dis one do?" Sarah brought 
 down upon his head, even while she 
 spoke, out of nowhere, apparently, a white 
 straw, a bit frazzled in the brim, but with 
 plenty of starch and "spunk" in it. 
 
 George surveyed himself in most leis 
 urely fashion before delivering himself 
 upon the hat, and he had even tested it at 
 several angles upon his head, when he 
 finally discarded it. 
 
 Then, while he replaced the old cap and 
 pulled its visor low over his eyes, he re 
 marked : 
 
 "Thanky, ma am, but I reckon dis 
 cap 11 do, after all. Hit don t call for 
 much, sence its braid is to e off, an dat 
 straw you see, I never likes to fo ce de 
 
 season." 
 
 [75] 
 
i 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 BUTTONS AND BKAVEKY 
 
 T was about ten o clock the front 
 edge of the morning after breakfast 
 to those who sleep along Prytania Street 
 when George finally started out. 
 
 There had been a full understanding 
 with Sarah that he should return to her 
 whenever he would, until he should have 
 found an accepted abiding-place, and with 
 this comfortable arrangement, he stepped 
 quite bravely, feeling sure of the direc 
 tion in which the lions slept in stone ; but 
 when he had several times lost his bear 
 ings and been constrained to return, for 
 their recovery, to a certain church cor- 
 
 [76] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 ner, at the end of what he mentally called 
 "Sarah. Street/ he suddenly seemed to 
 realize its open vestibule as an invitation, 
 and, turning into the gate, he mounted 
 the steps, discovered a side door acci 
 dentally left unlocked, and, going quite 
 into the church, he proceeded to discuss 
 the generous meal, which, no doubt, 
 cleared his mind while it sustained his 
 body. 
 
 When finally his place was marked only 
 by bits of paper and egg shell so famil 
 iar both in the trail of the wayfarer 
 George was traveling with good speed 
 and courage in the real direction of the 
 guarded gate. 
 
 No one ever knew what he said to the 
 old lady within the coveted door that 
 morning, but notwithstanding our being 
 several accounts short, as the servants 
 were sent away during the interview, 
 [77] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 certain it is that two faces were wreathed 
 in smiles, his and his employer s, when 
 he went out, promising to be on hand 
 early next day. 
 
 The sun was still high when George s 
 slim and elongated shadow, extending for 
 some yards ahead of him, showed his 
 coming to Sarah, as it lay over her wash 
 ing on the grass beyond her tubs. 
 
 She had welcomed this forerunner of 
 her own boy in the old days, and it had 
 been her habit, as soon as she recognized 
 it, to wipe her hands upon her apron and 
 to await him in the front door. And so 
 she did now going through her cabin. 
 
 " Hello! How comes it on wid my 
 little man to-day ? 
 
 It was exactly her old greeting, but she 
 did not realize it. 
 
 "I J m a lion man! Dat s huccome I 
 
 [78] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 comes on!" George replied, as he met 
 her proudly, while he put his bundle into 
 her extended hand the hand which had 
 received the school-books of the other a 
 year ago. 
 
 "Yas m!" he added, proudly, fanning 
 with his cap. "An I m gwine on duty 
 at ten o clock to-morrer an I gwine 
 have a nuniform, too two nuniforms, 
 for dat matter Sunday an week-day 
 all wid buttons an bravery on em! 
 Dey done tuck an tuck my measurements 
 a ready an de measure-man, he don t 
 live at de house. I went to him wid a 
 order-ticket an he lets on dat I holds 
 myself fine!" At this the boy threw 
 back his shoulder, bracing himself like a 
 West Point plebe on parade. Then, feel 
 ing possibly that the next assertion 
 needed some apology, he added : 
 
 "I hope I ain t tol no lie, but when 
 
 [79] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 she axed me bout my fam ly, I say I 
 stayed wid my Aunt Sarah, but when she 
 axed me Sarah what? I des happened to 
 glimpse de lions tails f om her winder, 
 an I say, I say: 
 
 " l Lions looks mo brave befo n dey 
 does behind don t dey? An she des 
 seemed to glance at em, too, an she 
 never quizzed me no mo bout yo 
 name. 
 
 "But sposen she had, boy, what would 
 you a said!" 
 
 George thought a moment. 
 
 "I I don t know, ma am, ezzacly. I 
 reckon maybe I d a said som h n 
 about gyardenin or horses or birds. 
 She wouldn t a cotched me, nohow 
 not dat easy. But you better learn me 
 all yo full entitlements to-night, please, 
 ma am. She mought ax me ag in. An 
 besides dat, ef you sesso, of co se, I gwine 
 
 [80] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 come home heah when I gits my days 
 off or gits sick. An , of co se, I 11 lif 
 tubs or plant yo gyarden when I comes 
 an you. know reel aunts, dey keeps 
 boys wages for em, an uses what po - 
 tion dey needs, an an all sich as dat. 
 You see, I ain t got no folks lessen 
 you II be em. Of co se, dey s Aunt 
 Ca line, but she ain t even a desirous 
 aunt an she s got her own supply." 
 
 "I is em, a ready!" said the happy 
 woman, and while she took the pin from 
 his cravat and held it between her teeth, 
 she said, " Hain t we been each other s 
 families ever sence I see yo little legs 
 danglin on de front bench yisterday? 
 An as for de Aunt Sarah part, you 
 know dat ain t no sin, caze everybody 
 dat s decent enough to say it calls me 
 dat. But for my entitlements slip off 
 yo coat, boy, and lay up dis cravat I 
 
 [81] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 say for my entitlements, I m Mis Sarah 
 Alviry Sparrer. Everybody in chu ch 
 calls me Sis Sparrer. " 
 
 George giggled. 
 
 "I wouldn t a went far wrong ef 
 dey d quizzed me for yo name, an I d 
 skirted in an remarked about sparrers, 
 would I ! I sho won t f orgit dat name. 
 
 1 * Hit s a name dat 11 never shame you, 
 man. 
 
 "Yas, so I see," said the boy. 
 
 "You mighty keen-eyed ef you see dat, 
 boy. How you see it, I like to know ? 
 
 For answer George pointed to a 
 framed document headed with a picture 
 of bride and groom, hanging over the 
 mantel. 
 
 "I got one des like dat o my gran ma 
 an gran pa an he allus tol me to hold 
 fas by sech as dat ef I ever come acrost 
 it mongst my color. We all been 
 
 [82] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 church widders in my f am ly. I 11 fetch 
 mine over an hang it up." 
 
 Sarah seemed almost unduly amused 
 at this. 
 
 "You s a great lookin widder, I must 
 say ! she fairly roared. 
 
 "I mean my folks is an I see you s 
 de same. 
 
 "Yas, boy; dat s right. "We all been 
 raised to marry an christen an bury in 
 church an I m proud to see dat you 
 been riz de same way. We has papers 
 fo all our performances." 
 
 "Me, too," said George, "so far as 
 I m gone along. I got my christenin 
 city fie ate but as to marryin an dyin 
 I ain t in no hurry. I m thinkin mo 
 o what s makin dat pot-top dance de 
 way it do. I s hongry, Aunt Sarah. 
 Dis heah waistcoat, hit s fairly wrin 
 kled. I wants to eat til it fits. 
 
 83] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "I know you does an hit s yo name 
 in dat pot dat makes it dance de way it do. 
 I hoped to have my man set down wid me 
 for supper. " 
 
 "An me, too. I was so fear d de 
 trumpet-lady d comman me to stay 
 dar right along, dat when she murmured 
 out, to-morrer/ I purty nigh giggled. 
 You know it d be hard to sass into a 
 yeah-trumpet or to conterdict it." 
 
 [84] 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 ANGELS IN THE AIE 
 
 IT was nine o clock past bedtime for 
 such as Sarah and George and the 
 latter s lessening share of the conversa 
 tion had for some time been punctuated 
 with nods, when Sarah remarked, 
 sleepily : 
 
 "I notice de ole clock is broke down 
 on de strike. " She rose, and began 
 winding "the strike, " which had failed 
 on the sixth hour, and when it began to 
 ring out faithfully, three more, George 
 chuckled, quite awake now over the in 
 teresting fact. 
 
 " Seems funny how a clock can remem- 
 
 [85] 
 
 6 George Washington Jones. . 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 ber don t it?" he laughed. "It owed 
 you three strikes, an it paid its debt 
 befo it done anything else." 
 
 "Yas," Sarah repeated; "it pays 
 but I had to dun it bef o it settled up dis 
 time. Dat was my fault, dough. I 
 didn t do it jestice last time I wound it 
 up. Hit pays what you gives it. Dat s 
 all. Dat s de diffe nce betwix man- 
 made machinery an de Lord s handi 
 work. De human heart is His work an* 
 it s it s altogether diffe nt." 
 
 She took her seat now, and, turning to 
 the boy, she said : 
 
 "For ninstance, now, look at you an 
 me. I ain t nuver even to say knowed 
 you was alive, untel yisterday an you 
 did n t suspicion I was in de land o de 
 livin an yit, when yo thin legs got 
 tired, a little in ard voice, so low it nuver 
 got up to yo ears, but jes spoke to yo 
 
 861 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 heart, it say: Go an set down on dat 
 ole bench under the chiny-trees, man. 
 Dey s angels in de air down dar an 
 when you come, dey 11 descen down to 
 de ole black oman inside, an dey 11 tell 
 her an her heart 11 rebound an she 11 
 go out an fetch you in an yield you her 
 bosom s comfort. 
 
 "Did you hear de angels when I come, 
 Aunt Sarah?" he asked, in a half whis 
 per. 
 
 "Not wid my out ard ears no, son. 
 Dey didn t haf to mo n let my heart 
 know an hit led me to you. I went de 
 way my heart led same as you come. 
 
 "I knowed som h n led me to turn 
 dis way, caze hit was des de contrariwise 
 o de way I was lookin to go. Yas, an 
 like you say, too, angels or som h n 
 must o gimme courage, caze whilst I 
 felt all over me kind o goose-skin wid 
 
 [87] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 homesickness when I was talkin to de 
 deef lady, I up an told her, brave as a 
 live lion, dat I was bleeged to git aroun 
 to see my Aunt Sarah twice-t a week, at 
 de least figgur. I toP er dat, Aunt 
 Sarah, on de count o de way you totes 
 yo lef hip sometimes when you makes a 
 sudden turn. A aunt dat makes dat sort 
 o motion in her easy work might be 
 tookin sick any day an ef she got air 
 nephew or step-nephew, even, dat s fitten 
 to be had, he d feel obleeged to git 
 aroun an see how she come on every 
 few days. Den she could even leave a 
 heavy tub g inst his comin . So, I said 
 twice-t a week ef not oftener. An I said 
 I laid off to pay her part o my wages, 
 too." 
 
 Sarah s face grew pretty serious. 
 
 "Huccome you had de gall to tell her 
 dat, boy I" 
 
 [88] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "Gaze I ain t no beggar, dat s why. 
 An I ain t no orphaned, nuther. I got 
 a mammy an a daddy, no matter whar 
 dey is. Gran daddy, he tol me dat a 
 grave was a honor ble thing to live by, 
 but I wants live kin-folks, an somebody 
 wha knows manners and behavior. Ef 
 I was to hire out in dat deef ole lady s 
 house, wid no colored kin to rub off a 
 pain for me, I d seem like one o doze 
 ole conterband niggers we hear tell 
 about. Gran daddy, lookin down at me, 
 why, he d be shamed to name my name 
 in heaven. 
 
 "All dat s jes what I was startin to 
 say, answered Sarah. 1 1 say it s hard 
 to b lieve dat yo thin little legs only in- 
 terduced me to you istiddy, an I m so 
 tuck up wid you dat I ain t gwine let you 
 take dat place in de lion s gate tell I goes 
 up myself an talks to de lady. An I 11 
 
 [89] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 let her see you ain t no rough and tum 
 ble, nutlier. I 11 put on my black ala- 
 paca frock an my beaded dolman cape. 
 It s a leetle tight round de arms sence I 
 growed into flesh, but it stands for times 
 an seasons an so do my bonnet wid 
 de curtain in de back an de roses an 
 grapes in front. Quality is quality, an 
 it don t haf to be dated. She 11 make 
 terms, as dey say, wid my outfit, ef she s 
 short-sighted, whilst she mought spurn 
 me ef she seen me in dis check ap on an 
 plaid hankcher. New things is cheap. 
 
 "You see, ef you gwine be my boy 
 an , of co se, either you is or you ain t 
 she 11 see I nuver lows none o my 
 family to live out p omiskyus. But, of 
 co se, ef I m satisfied de way things 
 lo oks, you kin go in a few days, time I 
 gits you fitted out. You needs night-shirts 
 an mendin an a few every-day clo es 
 
 [90] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 to play in. Dey 11 be days when you 11 
 be boun to mud up de lions jes caze dey 
 won t take dey eyes off n you. Boy chil- 
 len, dey ap to have dem spells but don t 
 give in to em mo n you haf to. I 11 fix 
 it all up for yer, but don t you dast to git 
 up to-morrer mornin tel yo Aunt Sarah 
 calls you. Den she 11 be back f om de 
 negosuatioms at de lion gate. Come 
 on, now. Say yo Now I lay me and 
 git to bed." 
 
 George s grin, as he crossed the floor, 
 seemed to obscure all the rest of him. It 
 was such rest to be controlled to belong 
 so soon again to somebody of require 
 ments and of proud standards. 
 
 The child was pathetically excited and 
 mischievous, as was betrayed by his ask 
 ing, even as he knelt : 
 
 "What would you do ef I was to sass 
 you an not mind!" 
 
 [91] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 The very absurdity of his question 
 amused him so that he impulsively threw 
 his arms about the woman s neck. And 
 while she hugged him, much as she had 
 hugged her own boy, she answered, with 
 mischief in her eyes: 
 
 "I d cut a peach switch an whup you 
 gooddat s what I d do," at which 
 poor George hugged her all the harder. 
 
 "An I d need it, too!" he chuckled, 
 proudly. " You d be servin me des like 
 all de mammies does owdacious boys, 
 mammies or keer-takin aunts. But you 
 need n t tek time to hunt no peach switch. 
 You can tek dat bag-strop to me ef I 
 needs it but I ain t nuver gwine need 
 it, lessen I breaks out in a fresh place, 
 unbeknowinst to myself." 
 
 No more heart-whole and submissive 
 grandson, son, or nephew ever repeated 
 a simple prayer, or sank into happy 
 
 [92] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 slumber upon a more downy bed of con 
 fiding love than did the boy George, 
 when, as Sarah put it, "he sounded his 
 amen an let go of her neck," when she 
 led him to bed and tucked the "mosquito 
 bar" about him. 
 
 [93] 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 SIDE-CURLS AND OLD-TIME BEHAVIOR 
 
 AND when he waked in the morning 
 to find Ponto, the bob-tailed mon 
 grel whom Sarah had always bade 
 him "keep clair of," sniffing at him out 
 side the net, he became instantly guilty 
 of his first technical disobedience. It 
 was only technical, however, as Ponto 
 had told him in good dog language, which 
 nearly all black boys, and many white 
 ones, know, that while Sarah was a good 
 mistress, she didn t know everything 
 especially about beasts and friendships 
 and boys. 
 And so, although he said, to maintain 
 
 [94] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 his position of superiority, "You better 
 go back to yo barrel, Ponto an let yo 
 marster git up an 7 dress," lie immedi 
 ately untucked the netting, and while the 
 dog licked his arm, he added : 
 
 "Ef Aunt Sarah comes an servers 
 you heah, she 11 whup us bofe good she 
 sho will." 
 
 It was really amusing the pleasure 
 George took in thinking of Sarah s ex 
 ercising even this supreme authority 
 over him. 
 
 All through the old days, while his 
 grandfather and he had roughed it vari 
 ously, his outside contacts had been with 
 children who got candy and blows, ac 
 cording to circumstances clean, mended 
 clothes one minute and whippings for 
 soiling or tearing them the next. 
 
 The whipping had somehow seemed 
 the one indisputable guarantee of privi- 
 
 [95] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 lege and protection. It was a sort of 
 nether-part of "belonging." 
 
 That was why he grinned so at the 
 thought, and why, when he finally heard 
 Sarah s step at the door, he shouted, 
 laughing : 
 
 "Time to be gittin up an I is too!" 
 
 "Yas, I should say so ef you ain t, 
 you better ! And ef you know which side 
 yo bread s buttered on, you 11 make 
 haste, too ef you wants to hold yo 
 place!" 
 
 "Hold what?" George had sprung 
 out of bed at the word. 
 
 "I say, ef you spects to lasso dem 
 lions from behind, you better hurry up 
 an git! I done tried all my argi mints 
 wid er. I shot em good as I could into 
 dat ear-trumpet, but it got me so frus 
 trated part o de time, when I was 
 callin fo th my best speech I was 
 
 [96] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 treadin on de hose an so I nuver tried 
 to say it all over. 
 
 "You done gone an got de ole lady so 
 hoodooed datdey ain t no reason in er. 
 She lowed dat she did n t want no home 
 made clo es nor nothin , nothin but de 
 boy an she wanted him cash down. 
 
 "But she s all right, settin up dar 
 wid side-curls an ole-time behavior 
 why, she even axed me to set down, an 
 p inted to one o deze criss-cross stitched 
 bottomans, an I clare, I m so heavy 
 an I was studyin how de coxcomb on it 
 was raised up like reel bloom dat I come 
 down on it sort o bias an sudden, an 
 de rollers must a been fresh greased. 
 Anyhow, when I let down my heft, de 
 whole business shot crost de room, an 
 de speakin -hose, why, hit fell halfway 
 betwixt us. I tell you, boy, you got to 
 mind yo p s an q s quite a while, to mek 
 
 [97] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 up for de way yo Aunt Sarah skated 
 crost dat waxed flo . I tell you, the bead 
 cape didn t count for nothin Hitjes 
 went along wid de rest o me. 
 
 George rolled on the floor with mirth 
 over the ludicrous experience of the 
 really dignified woman who so calmly 
 confessed her embarrassment. 
 
 "But what did you do, Aunt Sarah, 
 when yo y han -car come to a standstill ?" 
 he shrieked. 
 
 "Why, I jes lived up to my cape an* 
 my raisin an I riz up an courtesied 
 todes de lady, walked back and picked 
 up de talkin -tube, an I say into it: 
 "All right, ma am please, ma am 
 thanky, ma am he 11 be heah quick as 
 I kin git back an see him dressed." 
 An nair one of us even so much as 
 looked todes de roller-seat. Tell de 
 trufe, I ain t sho she seen me make de 
 
 [98] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 trip, caze jes as I started, a black gal 
 come in to speak to her, an ef she did n t 
 see me, she couldn t hear me, I know. 
 But come on, now, an lemme put you 
 th ough yo paces. What s dat dog 
 doin , jumpin over de bed? Is you been 
 teachin him tricks?" 
 
 "Yas m. I teached him dat, easy. I 
 des done it once-t an he f oiler ed along. 
 Watch me, now! Come along, Ponto!" 
 
 At this, George, after quickly taking 
 his place on the floor, made a brave high 
 plunge over the bed, the dog following 
 closely on his heels. 
 
 Instead of Sarah s objecting, as would 
 have been only consistent with proper 
 discipline, she dropped into a chair, 
 screaming with laughter. 
 
 And while she took off her cape and 
 untied her bonnet strings, she said : 
 
 "I sho is sorry you s gwine to live 
 
 [99] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 out. I sho is caze a child s noise, hit s 
 refreshment in de house. But hurry and 
 dress now, an come to me. I got to 
 feed you an drill you, too." 
 
 When presently the boy presented him 
 self at table, Sarah hurriedly placed his 
 food before him. 
 
 "Eat now an chew to-morrer," she 
 said, playfully, "an come tek yo man 
 ners-lesson. You can be p omoted 
 all yo life an you 11 sca cely git to de 
 place whar you 11 have to eat wid man 
 ners. Nigger table-behavior consis es 
 in watchin white folks whilst dey eat 
 easy an talk loud wid style. To know 
 how to stan behin a cheer an flap a 
 fly-fanwhen dey is a fly-fan or to" 
 
 "Fly-fans ain t in it for reel gran- 
 jer," George interrupted. "Gran pa, 
 he done showed me how to take my stan 
 des dis way 1 
 
 [100] 
 
GEORGE 
 
 He rose and placed himself back of his 
 own chair one hand over another, rest 
 ing on its top edge. 
 
 "But dat ain t no trouble. De great 
 est trouble for a lively boy is to ac deef 
 and dumb. No matter how funny 
 stories is, no f us -class waiter is allowed 
 to blink. I knowed a mighty peart black 
 boy once-t, wha went to a place on trial, 
 an he had it purty nigh solid when one 
 day somebody tol a story dat tickled him 
 so dat he giggled all over a omelet-soup- 
 plate an I tell you dat one giggle, hit 
 landed him in de street. 
 
 "But I ain t afeerd o dat," inter 
 rupted Sarah, "not wid you. Ef yo 
 gran pa walked behin his young mis- 
 tus gwine to church, an toted her book 
 an made his salutatioms, de way you 
 say he done, hit s boun to tell in yo 
 blood." 
 
 y-~George Washington Jones 
 
: GffO Rggi W;A$HINGTON JONES 
 
 "Yas, it mought tell but I don t de 
 pend on dat. I nuver goes in to wait on 
 no ticklish company but I totes a long 
 pin. I sticks it under my sleeve on de 
 right side, an ef any talk gits de better 
 of me, I des slips it up an jabs it in 
 close to my arm. Dey say dat s a safe 
 place. Dey ain t no hearts or livers or 
 nothin set up in yo right arm-crotch to 
 suicide you wid. 
 
 "I s waited on tables once-t in a 
 while, when dey d be a hand short, whar 
 gran pa d be sawin wood, an once-t dey 
 was des startin a turrible story bout a 
 Kentucky colonel, an I knowed de end 
 of it, an knowed I could n t stand it, an 
 I was des startin round wid the fust 
 champagne co se every glass to fill an 
 no side-trackin , so you know what I 
 done I 
 
 "I jabbed my pin in when I started 
 
 [102] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 out, an I tell you, when de end o story 
 hove in sight, I started to handle de bot 
 tle so as to work de pin, an when I got 
 back into de pantry, I tell you I had two 
 f us -class vaccinatioms on my arm. You 
 see, I worked her up an th ough but 
 you bet I nuver laughed. I did n t even 
 feel like it, an yit, ef I was to hear dat 
 story now, wid no legal objections like 
 a hat-pin to spile my fun, I d suffer tur- 
 rible an maybe lose a button." 
 
 I should think a boy smart as you is 
 could save his manners, even ef he had to 
 bite his lip. 
 
 "Yas, an so I could ef I could reach 
 it in time, but dat ain t safe, not for me. 
 My funny-bone lifts my top lip out o 
 reach at de fust shock, an , besides, one 
 grin in a lady s dinin -room is counted a 
 crime in special ef it s red an black 
 an dead- white an a yard long at dat, 
 
 [103J 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 like mine is. A Irish grin, why, dat s 
 diff ent. Half de time you can t tell 
 whether dey grinnin or not." 
 
 "Yas, dat s so/ acquiesced Sarah. 
 "But I ain t afeerd o my man. But 
 we mus git up some yether contraption 
 besides dem long pins. I d be havin de 
 col shivers every day, bout dinner-time, 
 j es thinkin maybe 
 
 "You nee n t to worry about dat, 
 Aunt Sarah. I ain t sho whether I 11 
 haf to wait on de dinner-table or not, but 
 ef I does I reckon de ole lady an de ear- 
 trumpet an me 11 be able to hold in all 
 de fun dey is widout no pins. But I 
 wants a good strong one to take along 
 wid me caze she done a ready put sev ral 
 questions to me, an I know I m ap to 
 git in trouble. For one thing, she says 
 she loves to listen at Testament-readin , 
 an she axed me could I do it, an , of 
 
 [104] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 co se, I say, Yas, ma am, I d try ; but 
 befo gracious, ef she axes me to spell 
 out de gorspils, an maybe sing or even 
 pray into dat ear-trumpet befo I gits 
 used to it, I tell you, Aunt Sarah, dat 
 shiny-top bonnet-pin you des taken out 
 o yo bonnet won t be any too long for 
 
 me." 
 
 [105] 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 GEOEGE SEES A VISION 
 
 GEOEGE entered upon his service 
 within the gate of his dreams 
 with a high head and a brave heart. 
 
 There was so much to satisfy his am 
 bition in the stately old home and its 
 atmosphere of refinement that, for some 
 days, his mind was so filled that he quite 
 forgot to miss the young dream-lady with 
 curls who played upon a gilt harp, and 
 whom it had been his most cherished am 
 bition to follow about her grounds, wait 
 ing and serving, even as his grandfather 
 had done in the old time. 
 
 Indeed, having undertaken his duties 
 
 [106] 
 
r GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 here without this factor, he might prac 
 tically have forgotten it for all time, had 
 he not one day come suddenly upon a 
 startling apparition of just such a per 
 sonage. 
 
 It confronted him in the far end of a 
 dusky back parlor, seldom opened now. 
 Strolling aimlessly, late one afternoon, 
 into the great rooms, he suddenly saw, 
 standing before him, a beautiful girl, in 
 the evening dress so commonly worn 
 in the dusk in early Virginia days. 
 She seemed to be strolling from a great 
 old house through an avenue of trees, her 
 faithful dog at her left, while a resplend 
 ent black serving boy in Continental dress 
 at the other side bore her book in his 
 arms all pride and attention. 
 
 The great painting probably repre 
 sented the " missy " of the manor going 
 down to the arbor in the lower garden, 
 
 [107] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 where all the slave-children came to sing 
 on Sunday afternoons, and she led them 
 even sometimes accompanying them on 
 her harp. 
 
 The picture caught the sunset rays with 
 such effect that the small boy, seeing it in 
 all its grandeur for the first time, not only 
 weirdly illuminated hut seeming actually 
 to take motion from the play of leaves in 
 shadow over it, stopped suddenly and, 
 touching his forehead in salutation and 
 scraping his foot, began to gasp some 
 thing, when a whiff of wind blew a dry 
 magnolia leaf through the window. The 
 leaf seemed to graze the very skirts of 
 the lady, when it was intercepted by the 
 strings of a real gilt liarp, which stood 
 beneath the portrait. 
 
 Not only did the frightened boy see the 
 wonderful vision, but he actually heard 
 the rustle of the dry leaf, and it took but 
 
 [108] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 a little pardonable imagination to make 
 him declare, as lie did afterward, that he 
 had "heerd de swish o de silk dress an 
 smelt de smell o ole cologne. The deli 
 cate aroma of a dry magnolia blossom 
 is quite suggestive enough of a subtle 
 offering of time to deceive greater 
 minds than George s and under less 
 excitement. 
 
 At the episode of the leaf, the boy 
 turned in terror and, with a faint shriek, 
 fled from the room and that part of the 
 house was for him, afterward, as a 
 haunted spot. 
 
 He could not mention the occurrence 
 to the other servants, and certainly it 
 was not a thing for him to speak into the 
 ear-trumpet of his benefactress surely, 
 not yet, at least. And for this last reti 
 cence there was a most astonishing rea 
 sona reason which sent the boy into 
 
 [109] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 quiet nooks, for undisturbed thinking, in 
 the garden when he would otherwise 
 have been rocking on a "lion-saddle," or 
 taking bareback rides, or maybe even 
 sweeping up the leaves along the walks 
 between the flower-beds. 
 
 His immediate recognition of the pic 
 ture as corresponding with the story of 
 the old man, his grandfather a picture 
 which he firmly believed to have been 
 a spiritual presentment would have 
 passed into variable shape and become 
 bedimmed by time, but for the fact which 
 suddenly dawned upon him that he had, 
 even here in his little new trunk, wrapped 
 with a few other treasures, a photograph 
 which corresponded in every detail with 
 the vision, as he remembered it in its 
 startling revelation of beauty which far 
 exceeded even his imagination. 
 
 One reason why he liked to go into 
 
 [110] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 lonely places to think was that in such he 
 felt free to take out this old picture and 
 to "study over it." 
 
 He knew that the little black boy in it 
 was his grandfather and that the lady 
 was the young mistress whom he had 
 honored all his days. 
 
 But why dey all showed up to me dat 
 day even to the goP harp which I on y 
 knows by hearsay dat s too much for 
 me ! Dey s a mericle done taken place 
 behin deze lion-tails an 7 I ? m in it, 
 some way." 
 
 So he would talk over the picture, 
 every time weakly resolving to go back 
 into the dim rooms behind the heavy cur 
 tains, not expecting to find the visitants 
 there, for, of course, they would have 
 gone long ago, but just to see how they 
 came and went, for certainly some part 
 of the place must have been accidentally 
 [in] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 left open. Of course, he knew that chim 
 neys would serve, or chinks in the wall, 
 but he could not understand how the 
 young lady s gown could have come 
 through so without a crinkle. 
 
 Eound and round the house he would 
 go, counting windows and chimney-tops, 
 trying to locate the vision against some 
 fortunate time of opportunity and cour 
 age. He had had both, but they had 
 never come together. 
 
 The curtains were sometimes drawn 
 aside in the parlors, and on bright days, 
 too, when one should be brave; but at 
 such times, he always found himself 1 1 on 
 the far side of the house, frightened at 
 the bare possibility of a temptation to 
 investigate the mystery. 
 
 It was generally about midnight, when 
 all the doors were locked, that he felt 
 " brave as a live lion" then, or while 
 [112] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 he rode as footman with the old lady in 
 her daily drives, an indulgence which she 
 occasionally granted as a reward of good 
 behavior. 
 
 Daily familiarity with the ear-trumpet 
 into which he said spelling and reading 
 lessons, and after a while had even 
 learned to repeat his answers from the 
 " children s shorter catechism, " had long 
 ago robbed it of all terror to him. * 
 
 George got along finely in his position 
 for the space of nearly a year. 
 
 He had confided to Sarah, after a long 
 time of secret suffering through fear, the 
 story of the " haunt" which had come to 
 him in one of the great rooms. He had 
 not shown her the photograph because 
 of simple pride. It was old unframed 
 cheap-looking. The apparition as 
 against a word picture, which is in a 
 way unlimited, was, he felt, far more un- 
 
 [113] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 usual and impressive. Sarah was super 
 stitious enough to have fallen in with 
 any plausible story of the supernatural, 
 but her real opinion in this case was that 
 the overcharged mind of an excited child 
 long under the spell of a special picture 
 of life had simply found space and set 
 ting in the great house for his imagin 
 ings, and she frankly told him so in her 
 own way, of course. 
 
 " Anything 11 come an stand befo you 
 ef you wanders in dimness an keeps 
 a-thinkin too free specially ef you lives 
 high an don t take good spring brews. 
 I done made you a lot o cinna 
 mon-root tea, an ef you 11 drink some 
 every night an mornin , dey won t no 
 ha nts bother you." 
 
 This was wholesome treatment, no 
 doubt, but while he did not question it 
 he even drank the nice tea the boy 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 knew better than to attribute his vision to 
 any physical cause. 
 
 Of course, there were lonely and other 
 wise trying times for him, and, even 
 while sitting bravely upon the cold back 
 of one of the lions, he often longed for 
 the freedom of the ragged fellows of his 
 own age who passed the gate. 
 
 There was a great dog on the place 
 a dog that lived in friendly enough rela 
 tions with the boy an ancient collie of 
 superior manners and a particularly im 
 pressive tail. George liked the old fel 
 low, who answered to the name of Chau 
 cer, and, indeed, after vainly trying to 
 teach him a few gentle tricks, George fell 
 back upon a single success, which af 
 forded mild amusement to the other ser 
 vants, and was finally brought to the front 
 yard, where it was received by a number 
 of guests with fine applause and even a 
 
 [115] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 considerable return to the showman, who 
 was bidden to i pass the hat. 
 
 The trick, which really never failed, 
 was simply to throw the dog a bone, at the 
 moment calling, i i Chaw, sir ! " 
 
 And Chaucer always " chawed. " 
 
 [116] 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE YOUNG LADY OF THE GOLD HAKP 
 
 A LTHOUGH George, on the whole, 
 /~\ rejoiced in the good fortune which 
 had given him so much for he frankly 
 assured Sarah that he had "sho* 
 touched de top-notch, there were nights 
 when the white iron bed in the little room 
 near that of "ole Mis " so he had 
 finally learned to call her was a chill 
 and lonely place. There were stomach 
 ache times, too, when he positively 
 yearned for the only maternal touch he 
 had ever known. 
 
 And yet, when he went " home to 
 Sarah each week, he had words of 
 
 [117] 
 
 8 George Washington Jones, 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 praise and pride only for her as to hia 
 happiness and well-being. Kind words 
 for her, too, while he pressed upon her a 
 goodly share of his slowly increasing 
 wages. 
 
 On one or two of their visits, the boy 
 found Sarah somewhat lame, though un 
 complaining, beyond her habit of being, 
 more or less, 1 1 po ly, thank God ! and it 
 worried him. He began to doubt the 
 righteousness of his life, and, indeed, he 
 was trying to decide at least to take the 
 old lady, his benefactress, into his confi 
 dence in the matter, when something un 
 usual happened. 
 
 His lady having company, George had 
 slipped away to his favorite haunt, be 
 side a lily-pond within the grounds, over 
 which a weeping-willow threw its veil. 
 Sitting here upon the grass against the 
 tree-trunk, his broom lying idle beside 
 [118], 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 him, he took out his old photograph, and 
 in a moment he was so far back in won 
 der that a light step at his side gave him 
 first warning that his old mistress was 
 approaching. 
 
 "Let me see it. What have you there, 
 George ! she said, calmly. Then, seeing 
 the boy s embarrassment, she added: 
 "Let me see it." As she spoke, she 
 slowly seated herself upon the iron bench 
 which George had eschewed for his 
 better seat on the grass, and then, ar 
 ranging her ear-trumpet on her lap, and 
 having adjusted her glasses, she took the 
 photograph from the boy s hand. 
 
 To say that she suddenly turned very 
 white and was in actual danger of falling 
 is but a feeble description of its effect 
 upon her when she had given the picture 
 a single glance. 
 
 [119] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 It was vain to try to speak, and when 
 she essayed to fix her trumpet in her ear, 
 her hand trembled so that she could not, 
 but George, brought suddenly to intelli 
 gent action by her distress, deftly placed 
 the trumpet as it belonged, and, adjust 
 ing the mouthpiece to his lips, said, 
 clearly : 
 
 "Dat s des my gran pa s picture 
 dat little black boy, to one side." 
 
 His hearer looked at him, as one peer 
 ing into a mist, but presently she said, 
 as if really distrait: 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "I say dat I keeps dis caze my 
 gran pa, he lef it to me. De little black 
 boy in it dat s him leastways, it was 
 when it was took. 
 
 Sit down here beside me boy. I 
 have much to say to you. Who who 
 who is the lady in this picture ? 
 
 [120] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 Oh, I knows who she is. She was his 
 mistus. He callt her Mis Genevieve. 
 Does you know her ? 
 
 For answer, she could only lay her 
 thin, blue-white hand upon the boy s 
 knee. 
 
 But presently, closing her eyes, she 
 said, slowly: 
 
 "She was my mother. Wh why 
 have you not told me all this before!" 
 
 Lordy, mistus ! I ain t knowed it tel 
 dis minute. 
 
 The child began to cry. 
 
 "I knowed I knowed dey was som- 
 h n nother mighty peculius about dis 
 house caze dem rock lions use to seem 
 to call to me all de time an I done had 
 I done had a vision, too yas m, I is ! " 
 
 Wiping her glasses, and then her eyes, 
 the old lady had taken the trumpet into 
 her hand. 
 
 [121] 
 
GEOKGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "What vision have you had, George, 
 boy be careful about these things. I 
 may have not to believe you in this." 
 
 "Yas m, I know m but you 11 haf 
 to b lieve me when I tell you all about it, 
 you sho will, ole mis . 
 
 "You see, dey ain t no harp in dis pic 
 ture, don t yer? Well, Mis Genevieve, 
 she used to play on a gol harp gran pa 
 sesso, an he ain t no liar an , well, all 
 I got to say is, she come to me one night 
 when the sun was sca cely down her an 
 gran pa an dat same dorg in one o 
 yo granjer-rooms, mongst dem statutes 
 an things. I know dat dog s name, too. 
 She name Consolation " 
 
 "Yes she was Chaucer s great-grand 
 mother. We always kept her beautiful 
 pups. 
 
 "What you say, mistus? Look like 
 I m way back yonder, lost in some kind 
 
 [122] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 o cu yers gyarden, wid wid wid our 
 folks but I misses I misses my ole 
 gran pa." 
 
 Great, noble tears bleared the old 
 lady s glasses as she took the boy s free 
 hand firmly in hers while she said : 
 
 "Yes, and so you are, George indeed, 
 you are back among your folks we are 
 your people, in truth. My blessed 
 mother she died in all her youth and 
 beauty, much as you see her in this pic 
 turebequeathed his freedom and a little 
 income to your grandfather, and he 
 studied and became a preacher, didn t 
 
 "Yas m, but he got de slow consump 
 tion, an dat turned him into a wood- 
 sawyer. My daddy was snakebit, geth- 
 erin berries, an , well I don t know 
 much bout my mammy. Gran pa say 
 she had foreign ways, so she went trav- 
 
 [123] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 elin but my gran paI wush t you 
 could a seen him an heerd im talk. 
 He use to say he could preach Christ, 
 hoa se as he was, acrost a saw-horse to 
 anybody at de wood-pile wid time to 
 listen, ef he did haf to leave de pulpit 
 an 9 1 tell you, mistus, he could, too. An 
 he s in heaven now, lessen somebody tol 
 Gord lies on im. An I don t b lieve 
 Gord d listen to em. 
 
 "But he always warned me dat my 
 folks belonged to de quality an not for 
 me to tek up wid no secon -rates an ? I 
 wouldn t, nuther." 
 
 [124] 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTEE XI 
 
 A BOY GEANDFATHER 
 
 T was about eight o clock just after 
 dinner when the old lady called 
 George to her. She had bade the maid 
 light up the parlor-side of the house. 
 
 When the boy came to her, she said : 
 
 "I am going to take you in to where 
 you saw your vision, George, and I am 
 sure the visit will give you pleasure and 
 pride, too. 
 
 "Your photograph is one of a small 
 number which were taken from a large 
 painting, when it was done. Now, you 
 will see my beautiful young mother, not 
 half my present age, for I am nearly 
 
 [125] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 sixty. You will see her and your grand 
 father while he was about your size all 
 painted in color and 
 
 4 But what about de harp?" George 
 was fairly panting with excitement. 
 
 "That is there, too; but come. Don t 
 be in a hurry to understand everything. 
 Come and see. 
 
 The boy was very small, and, half- 
 affrighted by the great experience of the 
 moment, he looked appealingly into the 
 old lady s face. 
 
 For answer, she took his hand and, 
 smiling, led him in. 
 
 The lights placed as best to exhibit the 
 beautiful painting were all lit, and, in 
 deed, to more discerning eyes than poor 
 George s, the revelation would have been 
 extremely beautiful and impressive, even 
 without its association. 
 
 "Here is the best place to sit." She 
 
 [126] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 drew a low stool and putting him upon it, 
 seated herself near. 
 
 "Now," she said, after a pause, "what 
 about the vision, little boy 1 
 
 But he could not answer. He had 
 begun to cry. But presently he whim 
 pered : 
 
 "Ef only gran pa could be looldn 
 down at us dis minute, wouldn t he feel 
 biggoty? Seein you an me together!" 
 
 "Maybe he can look down. I often 
 feel that mother sees me when I m here. 
 It is a sweet place to come. 
 
 "Yas m, it sho is!" said George, into 
 the trumpet, and then suddenly he began 
 to laugh beyond control, but when, 
 finally fearing excessive nervousness for 
 the child, the mistress suggested their 
 going out, he conquered the mirth which 
 had suddenly surprised himself, enough 
 to explain: 
 
 [127J 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "I can t git over de set o gran - 
 daddy s dude coat-tails an de broad grin 
 on im. He sho was one proud little 
 nigger. A man like dat could easy be a 
 Christmas gifV 
 
 "So you know how that happened 1 
 
 And then, sitting here before the proof 
 of all his claim, the boy told the whole 
 story of his futile efforts to "give him 
 self away" as a Christmas gift to some 
 lady who played on a harp, in emulation 
 of the boy so effectively pictured before 
 him. 
 
 This, of course, led easily to the story 
 of Sarah and of his present uneasiness 
 concerning her. Then of his resolve 
 that, since she had thought enough of 
 him to adopt him in the day of his pov 
 erty and helplessness, he felt the time had 
 come when he ought "in a manner to 
 adopt her," actually going to live with 
 [128] 
 
" A man like dat could easy be a Christmas-gif\" 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 her, to help her with his strong hands as. 
 well as with such contribution in money 
 as he could easily earn. 
 
 "Let us go now, and we can talk this 
 all over to-morrow, said the mistress, 
 rising. 
 
 i Bef o we goes, please, ma am, may 
 I walk up an pass my han over de goF 
 harp?" he asked, timidly. 
 
 "Certainly, go." It came with qua 
 vering voice. 
 
 He was beyond the range of the ear- 
 trumpet now, and so, when he had felt 
 along the gilt edges, and even run his 
 fingers noiselessly over the strings, 
 he passed from the harp to the paint 
 ing. Extending his fingers near it, he 
 looked back over his shoulder, question- 
 ingly. 
 
 "May I touch it?" eyes and fingers 
 said, and when a nod had answered them, 
 
 [129] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 the boy, advancing timidly, raised his 
 hand and petted the dog about the neck ; 
 then drawing down his fingers, he 
 touched the shimmering gown of the lady, 
 touched it gingerly here and there, half 
 caressingly but yet fearing to harm it. 
 
 And now, moving the hand further 
 along, he placed it bravely upon the 
 breast of the boy his grandfather over 
 both the painted hands which held the 
 painted prayer-book. 
 
 This last was evidently too great a 
 strain upon his young emotions, and 
 when he had felt the hands even fondly 
 laying both his own upon them he sud 
 denly began to shriek aloud in a veritable 
 agony of passion : 
 
 "Gran pa! Gran pa! I m come! 
 Does you reco nize me, gran pa? Heah 
 yo boy ! An I M ALL EIGHT ! I DONE 
 
 FOUN DE FOLKS ! 
 
 130] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 A kind hand drew the child away, and 
 as he passed out, it held him firmly while 
 a tender voice said : 
 
 "Sh! Don t cry, child don t cry!" 
 Her own handkerchief was wet, but she 
 was used to control. " Don t expect too 
 much. We may seem to see our loved 
 ones again in such sweet pictures as this, 
 but they may not come to us. If we are 
 good and faithful, some day we may go to 
 them. Come, boy, " 
 
 [131] 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 HOW IT ALL CAME OUT 
 
 PERHAPS it was the proudest day in 
 Sarah s life when the carriage, 
 with liveried attendants, drove up to her 
 door on the day following the events re 
 lated in the last chapter. 
 
 To see again the often-quoted "Aunt 
 Sarah," and to make "proper provis 
 ion" for her comfort was one of the first 
 impulses of George s "folks" other 
 wise, his single inherited mistress. 
 
 There was everything to attract the 
 intelligent and the far-seeing guest, who 
 accepted the chair, hospitably wiped 
 with the hostess s apron before it was 
 
 [132] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 offered, and although the gentle woman 
 had gone to her charged with kindly feel 
 ing and a resolve to reach out a hand to 
 her, it was very soon apparent that the 
 guest s attitude would be less an exten 
 sion of the hand than a drawing of its 
 beneficiary to her. 
 
 Sarah was no object of charity. There 
 were snow-white garments piled in her 
 cabin, heaped upon a pine table scoured 
 to an almost artificial whiteness. The 
 little back yard was as clean as the linen 
 bleaching upon its clover. 
 
 Sarah, herself, was good to see in 
 her immaculate dress and her good 
 humor. 
 
 It all came very suddenly to her the 
 news of the honor whicE had come to the 
 boy of her adoption the verification of 
 his every claim by the rattling equipage 
 which stood actually in sight of the whole 
 
 [133] 
 
 9 George Washington Jones. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 street at her door. She was a woman of 
 few words, but, as are such, sometimes, 
 she was one who bore herself with a 
 simple, unconscious grace on trying occa 
 sions. 
 
 She was " proud and delighted " at the 
 boy s good fortune. She appreciated 
 the great lady s offer to take her into her 
 service giving her what seemed mu 
 nificent wages, with a cabin, big enough 
 for herself and the boy of her adoption, 
 in a corner of the square occupied by the 
 home a bleaching-plot a front-back 
 gate, all her own no end of things. 
 
 Still the woman, bending her head in 
 acknowledgment all the while, could not 
 be brought in this first interview to agree 
 to relinquish an intangible and remote 
 but cherished commodity, which she 
 called "her freedom." 
 
 "You sho is payin me a great com- 
 
 [134] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 pliment, ma am you sho is," she said, 
 among other forms of protest, or objec 
 tion, "caze I mought turn out bad, for 
 all you knows; but hit ain t dat. 
 
 "I kin set down in my front do an 7 
 count de spinnin -spiders in my vines an 
 smoke my pipe, any day I feels like takin 
 a rest an dey ain t nobody to order me 
 to rise an shine an you see I m gittin 
 on in yeahs now an facin todes de 
 western shore o de sea-blue sky. 
 
 1 An every evenin , de sun sinks into it 
 to baptize off all de sin he s been lookin 
 on all day an all de sorrer so as to be 
 able to come up clear an courageous next 
 mornin . An seem like my soul goes 
 down wid im an den I sleeps in de 
 under world whar he goes tell his clair 
 eye strikes my bed nex mornin . An 
 wid nobody to call me, or give me no 
 orders, I sort o lives wid Gord s blessin 
 
 [135] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 by de sun, an g in he gits in de high 
 heavens, he gen ally finds me singin an 
 rejoicin . 
 
 "I watches for de noon-day hour when 
 I can t find no shadders on de earth an 
 I say to myself : He shall wash all tears 
 f om yo eyes, glory hallelujah! His 
 glory is in de heavens ! 
 
 "Den I wanes in peace at my ironin - 
 boa d whilst de shade creeps over my lit 
 tle gyarden-beds an so it goes. 
 
 "I thought maybe de little feller 
 mought a been sont to mejes to me 
 ma am but all de planets p ints de 
 yether way, now, an I re j ices in his 
 riches so I gwine peacen my sperit 
 again, and give way to de Lord s will. 
 
 This was a strong spirit, and not an 
 easy one to oppose. 
 
 It took three visits from the old lady, 
 herself, to induce Sarah even to go and 
 
 [136] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 see the dainty cabin awaiting her facing 
 the east, it was true, instead of the west, 
 but she soon saw how she could readjust 
 herself, going to bed with the western 
 light upon her very pillow and rising to 
 meet the morning. 
 
 There was, she confessed, a charm in 
 the fresh place, but when she went up to 
 the house and saw the great picture and 
 the real harp, while her heart swelled 
 with pride for the boy, she said sadly : 
 
 61 Yo gran daddy favors my boy mo n 
 you does, George but, of co se, you an 
 de madam, heah, an even de dorg, is got 
 antsisters in de picture an I d be jes 
 a comer an goer, to look at y all s 
 granjer whenever de lady d lemme me 
 step above my place, an my heart d be 
 back in my little cabin wid the shingle- 
 patched fence an boy s things all 
 strowed aroun ." 
 
 [137] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "Den, of co se," answered George, and 
 his face was a study of character while 
 he said it, "of co se, ole mis , you see, 
 I 11 b long to yon-all s family all de 
 same but Aunt Sarah, she needs me. 
 She got a quare motion of her lef -han* 
 hip when she turns of a sudden. I don t 
 low for her to lif no mo tubs o washin 
 widout me to take a hand but, please, 
 ma am, don t confine me to no special 
 week-day when I kin come to see you 
 an , of c ose, sence you got dat gol chain 
 to yo spec s, dey holds to yer an 
 you don t need me so constant maybe 
 ef you sesso I could come an go 
 an keep my place but if not, Aunt 
 Sarah-" 
 
 The woman, Sarah, had followed the 
 boy s words with bated breath, and now, 
 quieting him by a peremptory wave of 
 her hand, she turned to his benefactress : 
 
 [138] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "What day would you like me to move 
 in, ma am?" she asked with fine 
 composure. "You see, de chile, he done 
 got me whar I can t take him or leave 
 him, but I H f oiler iman I 11 try to 
 suit you, ma am wid de washin . I 
 reckon it d take me a day or so to pack 
 an , of co se, my gyarden " 
 
 "Is just planted, I know. How nice 
 for whoever rents the place next! But 
 why move your furniture! Why not 
 take anything you particularly care for 
 and sell the rest? Your cabin shall 
 all be new and fresh. Maybe some poor 
 people will come after you, and those 
 things would be useful to them. 9 
 
 "I knows a mighty needful family o ? 
 folks whar I stayed de few days after 
 gran daddy died Aunt Ca line Walker 
 an she got a whole passel o chill en an* 
 mighty little yard-room, let alone gyar- 
 
 [139] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 den," George impulsively put in, not 
 hesitating until lie had done. 
 
 The detail of moving is in its very 
 phraseology suggestive of weariness and 
 confusion. 
 
 Of course, Sarah was soon comfortably 
 housed in the cabin prepared for her, and 
 her mistress s assurance that she should 
 be responsible for the laundry-work 
 alone, taking her own time up to the 
 weekly accounting for the same, with its 
 surer and better pay, made the place, in 
 every sense, a promotion. 
 
 And she had the boy, too, "to memor 
 ize her of her own, whilst he drawed her 
 to hisself," as she put it and he lifted 
 many a small burden for her. He had 
 even taken up and replanted her choicest 
 flowering vines and shrubs for her, care 
 fully filling and leveling the ground from 
 
 [140] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 which they came, so that when Caroline 
 and her brood should come, it might not 
 seem denuded. (And they came without 
 delay, "so that the happiness in it 
 might not have time to cool.") 
 
 Sarah s mind could never compass a 
 realization of the great wealth which 
 would warrant so lavish expenditure as 
 the purchase of all her furniture and its 
 unreserved presentation to the needy in 
 coming tenants. 
 
 The quiet elegance of the home, of 
 which she very soon felt herself a part, 
 stimulated her pride, and the old linens 
 and fine lace draperies of the house came 
 from her nimble and shapely fingers 
 "jes like new, only better," really, as 
 she claimed. 
 
 "I washes time out o old things an 
 de shop scent out o* new ones, 7 she liked 
 to boast, "an in de place o de smell of 
 
 [141] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 must or dust, I sends em in sweet as 
 new grass/ 
 
 The story is told so far as a story 
 need be, answering its beginning. What 
 happened after ; how George studied, in 
 his own way ; how, at last, in a romantic 
 turn of the tale, he came to own the gold 
 harp, and what he did with it; how this 
 and that and the other happened 
 
 There are no end of stories which start 
 at intervals along the stem of any worthy 
 tale, like offshoots from a live branch, 
 each with its bud and flower of romance 
 at the apex. 
 
 It does seem worth the turning back, 
 just a minute, to relate how George went 
 to Caroline s, to bear his lady s invita 
 tion to her. When the old lady author 
 ized his bearing the message (and he was 
 eager to go), her face suddenly lit with 
 the spirit of fun, while she said : 
 
 [142] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 " Don t go yet, George. I shall go for 
 a drive this evening" she meant after 
 noon " and you may go with me." 
 
 "You mean you gwine drive way out 
 yonder, past dem blackberry hedges an 
 de palmetter-swamp ! Dey so many my- 
 color chillen, an tin cans an ole shoes 
 layin roun an an goats an Aunt 
 Ca line, she ain t nothin but poor. She 11 
 work one week an rest two. She ain t 
 like my Aunt Sarah. An an dat s 
 mighty bad travelin , ole Mis , for yo 
 span o horses. Dey won t take no pride 
 in dat journey, I know." 
 
 "I wasn t thinking of the horses, 
 George," she laughed. "I was thinking 
 that, possibly, as you say you have never 
 told them what your Christmas gift was, 
 last year, they might ask you again. 
 
 And George, his face in a broad grin, 
 answered : 
 
 [143] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 "No m, I ain t no mo n sont em 
 word I was doin fine, an dey mought 
 keep so-an -so, what I lef dar for my 
 tliree days boa d. Lordy! So dey 
 might." Then, growing more sober, he 
 asked : 
 
 "Does Christmas gif s ever come de 
 day arter Christmas ? 
 
 i l Certainly ; they are often a little late 
 detained on the way." 
 
 "Den, by jimminy! I got em! Even 
 ef dey don t ax me, I 11 git it all in. 
 I 11 git even wid dat n what gimme dat 
 reluctioned blow on his whistle an de 
 gal wha lemme bite de stomach out n 
 her candy cow an all de rest an I 11 
 say, By the way, talkin bout Christ 
 mas gif s, I tol y all, I went for mine, 
 you ricollec f Well, yonder it is/ an 
 I 11 p int to you an de rig. An ef dey 
 dares to spute me, I 11 call em out to 
 
 [144] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 yo ca iage do , please, ma am, an yon 
 back me wid de story jes shortened up, 
 little like bird-shot. I don t want to hurt 
 nobody. Dey-all, dey s good an char 
 itablebut they didn t make no proper 
 lowance for me dat Christmas. She 
 could a baked me one dorg-cake wid 
 sugar on it! Or even cut a hole in one 
 to mark it for me, even ef she give de 
 baby my mark out o my middle." 
 
 And so it all happened the visit- 
 reminiscences all. Instead of feeling 
 as people generally feel after receiving 
 a volley, however, George s friends 
 seemed all made happy by his grand 
 eur, for, while the wheels rolled away, 
 Caroline was heard to say : 
 
 "Well, who d a thought it! De ole 
 man toP de clair truth, arter all." And 
 as she looked across into the waste of 
 
 [145] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 green beyond the rubbish about her cabin, 
 she laughed : "Lordy me ! I wush-t all 
 dem palmetters had eyes in all dey p ints. 
 Only cle blind Aunt Bella, to see granjer 
 at my gate an 7 she couldn t see it." 
 
 "Huccome you reckon he thought 
 about fetchin deze whistles an candy 
 cows along, mammy?" said one of the 
 children. "Dey sho does blow loud an 
 tas e sweet." 
 
 "Can t prove it by me, chill en," Caro 
 line answered. "George allus was one 
 cu yus little nigger." 
 
 It might be said that the boy George, 
 having known only poverty and depriva 
 tion during his early years while he fol 
 lowed his aged relative from one wood 
 pile to another, could scarcely have 
 realized higher conditions. 
 
 But it must be remembered that the 
 
 [146] 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON JONES 
 
 actual conditions of life count for very 
 little to those whose castles are in Spain, 
 where they live in affluence, undisturbed 
 by life s vicissitudes. And this Spain is 
 of rather uncertain geographical loca 
 tion, too. 
 
 Sometimes, as in the old black man s 
 case, it is far back in the memory-coun 
 try, while with others, particularly the 
 younger inhabitants, it lies high ahead 
 upon the sun-lit mountains of hope. 
 
 [147] 
 
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