THE ABSENT-MINDED JUDGE.
Burnbrae, the home of the Barings, with its productive acres fringed by vine-clad vales and hills, had by an irrevocable event passed irredeemably out of the possession of its embarrassed owner, and heart-broken the old man yielded his tenure to the new master. The mortgage debt and taxes, like omniverous caterpillars, began to eat away at its four corners at one and the same time. Mr. Baring could only await the inevitable hour with the saddest apprehensions. For himself it was a matter of little consequence, for like the sea-tossed sailor, he could discern within the length of a cable the ultimate haven, land-locked and tranquil; but for his two daughters who would survive him the stroke was almost heart-crushing.
The forced sales of beautiful homesteads like Burnbrae, in the days of reconstruction were not much of an incident; when there was no halting by that unbrigaded army that was laying waste field and plantation, and scourging the land into nakedness; when by the extra judicial processes of assimilation and absorption the spoils system was budding into a vigorous life and the spoilsmen were animated, remorseless and persevering.
Around this home there were memories dear and tender, trellissed in the affections of the Barings; incense came forth from chambers and bowers, and out yonder where the smooth white stones glisten in the moonlight like platoons of white-gowned maidens, the Baring generations lay in unbroken files.
It is a sad thing to see a home, like a worthless chattel, under the hammer of a callous-hearted auctioneer; to hear him cry going, going, going, with as much delight as if he were parting company with a pestilence; but alas! with the owner it is like a judgment of outlawry to pass the keys, the symbolical title, to the purchaser, who is animated by no kind sentiment; who sees no tears and hears no sighs. "Going, going, going!" There slips out of the master's control the nursery where infancy was cradled, swathed in the manifolding of love and tenderness.
I see in retrospection a beautiful young mother, with a redundance of soft black hair as velvety as the wing of a raven, with her foot upon the rocker smiling so sweetly upon the sleepy-eyed child, who arouses her little tired self only long enough to whisper dreamily,
"Sing please, again, mama; sing Dix—" and falls asleep. And then there is the old conservatory just under mother's window, aromatic with memories. Mother called it her "Flowery kingdom," because every morning and every evening she entered her throne-room there with its dais of japonicas and camelias; and there were her little maids of honor in russet and gold and carmine glistening in dewy diamonds and pearls; and they would thrust back their silky night-caps and their little eyes would be bright, as they peeped out of tiny hoods of blue and purple, red and white. Ah, this was a royal realm of the queen mother, and those little star rayed princesses were so loyal in their beauty and fragrance. And this, too, like a beautiful pantomime, was passing away, leaving only shadows that, like some horrid dream, were darkening the soul. Oh, the charm, the aroma of the vine-clad conservatory, dear mother's "Flowery kingdom" and her little royal maids?
And there is the old drawing-room with a bountiful bouquet of memories. This hallowed chamber was so often refreshed in the golden twilight by mother's presence, by mother's devotions, by mother's voice as it blended softly with the harmonies of the old harpsichord; and it seems as if there were sweet chimes out of doors in the stilly air, and perhaps the stars were re-enforcing the old songs with whispering symphonies.
Then there was the chamber just next to mother's, embowered in columbine and the trailing arbutus where there are treasured still old letters, books and shoes and articles of vertu that belonged to Walter; just where he placed them before he enlisted in the Confederate cavalry; before he died and was rudely buried without a winding sheet, under the clods of the Shenandoah valley, that day that Stonewall Jackson unfurled the star barred banner in the streets of Winchester; to rest, aye, to rest until the bugler of the skies shall pipe the reveille. Going, going, going. It is the knell of happy days; the dirge of hearts crushed by sacrifices, sorrows; it is the thud of the cold clay upon the coffin of hope; the shroud that a remorseless destiny has flung around our idols as they fall one by one from their pedestals. "Going, going, going," the echo is thrust back upon the bruised heart from the white cold stones out yonder under the Mulberry. Perhaps Mr. Baring's daughters, who planted about these sacred mounds the star eyed daisies and the lily white violets, never thought of the dance that should go on and on to the fascination of lute and harp in the resounding halls, when the stranger should occupy in his right dear old Burnbrae. So bewildering are the changes in this life. It seems to them but yesterday that their lovely sister, a maiden of sixteen years, was laid away by the side of their mother, to arise one day transfigured and glorified; and now they were going to tell the old home with its cherished memorials good-bye; and the old graveyard and mother's vine clad "Flowery kingdom" too. Ah, every footfall is like an echo from some deserted shrine; and there is no kind voice to bid them "come again." The little twittering birds are piping the refrain of the sad, sad song of the auctioneer. Others enter now with the keys of a lawful dominion; they unlock the dead chambers, but the fragrance of happy lives is gone like the breath exhaled from the nostril. The stranger never heard the old harpsichord with its responsive chords, as they were swept by mother's lily white hands and almost syllabled her angel voice. They were never charmed by that sweet sunny voice that in so many twilights has been singing vespers in heaven; they know naught of the dead white ashes that lay in the unlighted furnaces of the poor souls, who are saying now so tenderly, so tearfully, to their old home and its memorials, its idols, "Good-bye, good-bye!"
Judge Bonham, the purchaser, had been highly distinguished in the civic and military employments of the country. Like his old friend, Colonel Seymour, he was with Lee at Spottsylvania, Gettysburg and Appommattox, and like his colleague in the humiliations of the hour he had declined to "bend the pregnant hinges of the knee that thrift may follow fawning." To say that under all circumstances he maintained a perpendicular, from which there was no swerving backwards or forwards or to the right, or the left would be a falsification of biography. He, like all other mortals upon this terrene had his passions, when his temper, despite curbs and restraints, almost overmastered him. Judicial experiences had affected his manners, so that he appeared austere and unfriendly; but he had a kind heart, open-handed to a fault, true to his convictions, his friends, his God.
There were curves and lines in the physical man here and there that appeared misplaced and misshapen. His long stringy hair or what there was left of it, was of a carrotty color, his nose was aquiline with unnatural projections, and his mouth though a little rigid in outline displayed, when animated, a beautiful set of teeth.
He was a very scholarly man; a religious man too, and entertained throughout his life strong Calvinistic convictions. It was strange indeed that a gentleman so exemplary in life, should sometimes run the hazard of being suspected as a rogue by those who were ignorant of the infirmity that harassed him all of his years. When meditating upon this playfulness of nature he would observe confidentially, that in any community where he was not known he would be oftener in the State's prison than without it.
"Better a Bedouin in the trackless desert than a man who is forever running the gauntlet at such a risk," he said embarrassingly.
There was the gossip of the town in which he lived as biting as the hoar frost, revamped and magnified to his hurt. When the gossipping spinsters heard that the judge was reinforcing his natural attractiveness by the glossiest and finest of raiment, coming out of the wardrobe like the butterfly out of the chrysalis, they hurried to and fro among the neighbors, like magpies chattering and twittering, and they laid the poor fellow under the power of an anodyne upon the cold marble slab, and with scalpels scarified him horribly, as some women only can do. "Did you ever! Did you ever!" came a refrain from puckered lips.
"Who would have believed it!" exclaimed Miss Jerusha Timpkins, as she rolled up her dancing eyes and clasped her bony hands as if in expostulation.
"The idea! The idea!" ejaculated Miss Narcissa Scoggins.
"That man going to marry!" they all exclaimed in chorus. "My, my, my!"
"And pray who told you so?" asked Miss Jemima Livesay with a biting expression.
"Why, where have you been, Jemima, all these months, you ain't heard it? It is the town talk. Why, Amarylla Hedgepeth she heard it straight from the knitting society. Squire Jiggetts told old Deacon Bobbett that the judge had spoken to him to marry him to the beautiful Alice Seymour, and Deacon Bobbett told his wife, and Mrs. Bobbett told Sarah Marlow, and Sarah Marlow told Polly Ann Midgett, and Polly Ann ups and tells Martha Gallop, and that's how the news gets to us strait."
"Well sir!" exclaimed Miss Serepta Hightower, forgetting she was speaking to old maids who had a loathing for any expression that suggested a man or the name or the memory of a man, except the man they were prodding and scarifying. "I wouldn't believe it if the news came pine blank from the clouds; that I wouldn't!" and she gave emphasis to the utterance by the malicious and vehement stroking of one skinny fist against the other.
"Why, that man?" she exclaimed with horror, "Why, he would forget his marriage vows before he ever made them. Why when he led Malindy Hartsease a blushing bride to the altar thirty years ago; why, don't you all remember that he sauntered out of the church by his lone lorn self, and the preacher had to go to his house in the dead of night in the rain and tell him that he had left his bride in the church crying her very eyeballs out?"
"The monster! the monster!" all exclaimed and skinny hands and skinny arms and skinny necks were tossing and swaying automatically.
"Of course I warnt there myself (nor I either, came interruptions from all the spinsters) but I heard my mother,poor soul, say that she was right there and that she never felt so sorry for a poor human being in all her life as she did for poor Malindy; but she has gone to her rest now, thank the Lord!" and a dozen handkerchiefs instantly gravitated toward a dozen hysterical faces.
"I pity any poor soul that ties herself to such a man as that from the bottom of my heart," said Miss Anastasia Perkins in great sympathy. "Why she won't know whether she is married or not, neither will he; just as likely as not he will go courting somebody else with his poor wife a sitting back in the chimney corner in the ashes."
"And there is another pint I haint ever said anything about, but I think it ought to be known here betwixt ourselves and not to go any further" said, Miss Martha Gallop "but the way he treated his poor wife Malindy was a purified scandal. Now I aint a telling you this as coming from me, for the good Lord knows when that thing happened,I was a little teensy weensy tot, (with a coquettish toss of her antique head) but old aunt Mehetibel Parsley knows all about it, and I've heard her say over and over again that when Judge Bonham and Malindy would be riding in their carriage to meeting that he would forget where he was going and would fetch up right against the poor house three miles or more in the other direction, and that poor mournful woman would be a sitting back in the carriage with eyes as red as a gander's, and a looking pine plank like she was coming from a funeral."
"Oh the cruel, cruel monster!" came another refrain, and skinny fists would double up and strike against ancient knees like resounding boards, and the spinsters would all heave great, tumultuous sighs, and corkscrew curls, like spiral springs, would dance up and down mechanically upon their well oiled pivots.
Judge Bonham was quite nervously gravitating toward a situation that required great force of character; a situation always extra hazardous and demanding the exercise of every resource.
This phlegmatic man was running the biblical parallel, dreaming dreams and seeing visions; not the distorted creations of the night-mare, but beautiful little crayons of love, swinging like tiny acrobats from blue ribbons on the walls, and descending like vagrant sunbeams upon the vermillion carpet; composite faces, too, with bright golden hair and brighter blue eyes.
The old gentleman sat back in his easy chair, thinking of the captivating beauty over at Ingleside, and there were ecstatic little chimes ringing in his ears, and their chorus always was this,
"I don't care what the gossips say,
I shall marry some fair day."
"But am I really in love?" asked he. It was a perplexing question to a mind unusually acute and active in the powers of analysis and synthesis; to a mind that could grasp, multiply and divide remainders, particular estates and reversions in all their infiniteness. And the old man began to ponder seriously upon the situation.
Something quite unusual and quite unnatural was tinkering upon the frayed out heart strings of the old judge, until the learned man quite bewildered found himself addressing his reflected image in the mirror.
"Quite handsome, upon my honor, Mr. Livy Bonham," he exclaimed, "and she will say so, too, when she sees her beautiful image in my soft blue eyes; for they will speak to her in love and she will understand."
He turned from the mirror singing sweetly,
"And bright blue was her ee,
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'll lay me doon and dee."
As he passed out of the door with his brand new beaver hat canted to the right side of his head and twirling his gold-headed cane in his hand, he said to his old cook,
"Remember, Harriet, to come to me when I return, as I shall have orders for a general cleaning of the house by and by, and tell Lije to put the carriage in apple-pie order."
"I wonder what mars judge do mean?" asked the simple negro as she turned away, "Hit pears lak his mind is a purified a wonderin; noboddy haint rid in dat kerrige since ole missis died, und it do seem lak a skandle to rub ole missis' tracks out dis late day. Ef Mars Livy is agwine to get married he orter dun und dun it soon arter old missis died, den dere wudn't ben no skandle in de lan lak dere is agwine to be now. Folkses high und low is ergwine to look skornful,wid dere fingers pinted at de gal, und ax deyselves how cum she jined herself to ole marser, wid wun foot in de grave, jes to suck sorrer arter he is dun und gon."
The man of fifty-five years was met at the door of Ingleside by the faithful old butler, who bowed almost to the floor as he greeted the judge, who, placing his hat into Ned's hands asked suspiciously if his young mistress were at home?
"Deed she is, mars jedge " exclaimed Ned obsequiously.
"Miss Alice is always at home to er yung gemman lak you is sar. Und she is diked monstrous, mars jedge, in lilacks und princess fedders und jonquils, jes lak she cum outen de observatory, und she is speckin cumpany dis werry minit, und I spek yu knose who dat is sar," said the old negro as he dropped his voice almost to a whisper, laughing and smirking the while.
"Angelic creature!" exclaimed the old man aside, as he began to feel a creepiness up and down his back like great caterpillars upon the march. "What infinite comprehension!" he exclaimed again as he seemed to jerk spasmodically; "What an affectionate appreciation! Doubtless expecting me as if my arrival had been telegraphed from Burnbrae."
"Mars jedge," asked Ned "dus you ame dis wisit for yung missis or ole marser?"
"Undoubtedly, Ned, this visit is for your mistress," said the judge as he rubbed his hands with energy. "When my plans are arranged I will interview your marster—perhaps in the very near future."
"Eggzackly, yung marser," replied Ned as he twirled the judge's new beaver in his hand. "Mout I mak jes wun kurreckshun, sar, fore yu gits too fur?" asked Ned.
"Why, certainly; what is it Ned?"
The old negro placed his hands to his lips as if to keep back the sound of his own voice and asked in a whisper, while a smile played around the corners of his mouth, "Is you sho yus all rite, boss?"
"Why certainly," the judge replied with a degree of impatience "Do you suppose I have come out of the low grounds?"
"Lans saks, yung marser, dis ole nigger don't ames to inturrup a gemman of your sability. But boss yu dun und flung yo oberkote on de rack, duz yu ame to go into the parlor whar yung missis is wid all her hallibooloos ur dout ary weskote ur koller udder?" and the old negro turned away his head and tittered, while the judge with the embarrassment of a suspected felon was looking and feeling for the missing garments; and he turned his ashen face with a hard grimace to the old negro as if he had been the cause of this particular act of absent-mindedness and said angrily.
"Ned if you ever mention this matter to man or beast your life shall pay the forfeit."
"Deed I won't, mars jedge, dat I won't, kase dat mout fling de fat in de farr."
"What shall I do, Ned?" asked the judge confidentially.
"Hit pears lak dat de onliess fing yu can do now is to slip outen dis do rite easy fore ole Jube sees yu und wait out in de piazzy twell I fetch wun of mars Jon's weskotes und collars, und den yu kin march in sar as biggerty as when yu was de jedge in de kote."
"No, I will go back home; and shall I come again Ned?"
"Sartainly mars jedge, sartainly sar," said Ned, bowing and scraping. "Ef you seed all dat finery Miss Alice has got strowed around her neck und all dem white und pink und yellow jonquills und sweetbetsies und snowballs und princess fedders on top of her bed, und all dun und dun for yu mars jedge, dere wudn't be but seben tater ridges twixt dis grate house und yourn; yu'd be pearter dan any rabbit in de mashes agwine und a cummin."
The foolish widower passed out of the door and out of the gate singing to himself,
"Her brow is like the snowdrift,
Her throat is like the swan."
His feelings toward the peerless beauty were stoutly reinforced by the observation of the negro "und all dun und dun for yu mars jedge." Clarissa ever and always upon the lookout in these suspicious times, hearing only snatches of the conversation in the hall between the judge and her husband called out imperiously,
"Ned cum to de do er minit," Ned in his slouchy way, giggling like an idiot, advanced toward Clarissa.
"Whot ailed dat white man in dem fine cloes und stove-pipe hat agwine outen de gate?" and Ned only giggled the more.
"Don't yu heer me axing you Ned?" stormed Clarissa.
Ned still giggling with both hands to his black mouth replied distrustfully.
"I gin mars jedge my solum wurd dat I wudn't woice dat diffikilt twixt me und him to man nur cattle beastis nudder."
"Woice what diffikilt Ned?" asked Clarissa in her provoking way. "You knows I haint no man nur cattle beastis nudder; whot maks yu so tantilizin? Ef you haint agwine to tell me I'm agwine rite strate to Miss Alice; I knows she will mak yu tell her." Ned buried his face in both hands and then peeping through his fingers sheepishly observed,
"Now Clarsy you knows you is monstrous handy noratin ebery blessed fing you heers to tuther fokses; now ef I ups und tells yu,und it gits to mars jedge's ears, whose agwine to stand twixt me und him? Tell me dat."
"I'm agwine to stan betwixt yu und de jedge, dats who," replied Clarissa consequentially.
"Oh Lordy! Yu ergwine to stan twixt me und him," interrogated old Ned contemptuously "Jes as well have ole Jube er stanin twixt me und de jedge ebery bit und grane."
Clarissa thought for a moment and replied with infinite satisfaction.
"Miss Alice is ergwine ter stan twixt yu und de jedge, dats who."
"Dat mout do," said Ned, "und ef de jedge axes me about it I'm agwine to send him rite strate to Miss Alice, und let dem two fite it out twixt dey selves," and Ned with great circumstantiality placed Clarissa in possession of the facts in the case.
"Fo de King!" exclaimed Clarissa after Ned had concluded. "I'm ergwine rite strate und tell Miss Alice."
"Und den dars is gwine to be a rumpus in dis grate house," said Ned with disgust as Clarissa shuffled down the hall to her young mistress's chamber.
Nothing baffled by his misadventure, and realizing that faint heart ne'er won fair lady, the judge reappeared at the hall door of Ingleside with his beaver hat canted on the other side of his head, and rang the door bell quite tentatively, as he felt that Ned would watch for his coming, and would admit him without knocking.
"Now Ned," the judge remarked, as he passed his beaver to the old negro, "examine me from head to foot and tell me if I'm all right." Ned did as he was commanded in great detail of inspection and observed,
"Yes sar, dat yu is, mars jedge, I neber seed such a portly yung man in all my days sar. Pend upon it boss, Miss Alice is ergwine to bite at the hook fore yu flings out de bate. Ef I mout tell yu de truf you looks lak yu was a stepping into de marrage sallymony dis werry minit und I don't speck nofin else but dem yallow und white snowballs und sweet betsies is ergwine to drap rite down und perish on yung misses hed when yu put your little foot in dat dar parlor;" and the vain old man now fully reassured, followed the old butler into the parlor, the latter remarking in a highly patronizing way.
"Now, mars jedge, I'm ergwine to set yu down in de bridegroom's cheer, kase I knows hit is ergwine to be yourn fore dis yeer is dun und gon, und den I'm ergwine to be yourn too," he laughingly continued. "Kase I belongs to yung missis und yung missis belongs to de jedge. Ha, ha, ha!"
After Ned had retired to the hall the vain old man, after looking all around him, stealthily arose from his seat and surveyed his person in an elaborate mirror over the mantle piece, arranging his hair, beard, and eyebrows in every detail of evenness and position, and was thus assaulted by the bewitching beauty of Ingleside without a picket or skirmish line, and with his back to the conqueror of hearts. The dilemma was excessively embarrassing and as he turned to speak to the queenly beauty he began to stammer and quite unconsciously to make apologies.
"I called this morning, madam," he began, "er, er, er, to inquire after the health of your father. You don't know er, er, er, how solicitous I have been about him of late. How is he this morning?"
"He is very much better, I thank you, sir," replied Alice with an effort at self control, "and if you will excuse me I will inform him that you are here."
"I beg you will er, er, er"—stammered the judge with an uncontrollable energy.
"Oh, I am sure it will do him so much good to see you," interrupted Alice, as she gracefully bowed herself out of the room, leaving the bewildered lover to destroy with huge battering rams the beautiful castle which his ardent fancy and old Ned's sycophancy had erected.
"In olden times," soliloquized the judge, as he brought his clenched hand with force upon his knee, "kings alone had their fools; and here I am playing the miserable fool in the presence of an unsophisticated maid. Father indeed! Why did I ask about her father, blasted idiot that I am?"
The old judge was still scourging himself with the thongs of emphatic rebuke, when to his surprise another judge entered the parlor with the beautiful Alice upon his arm.
Colonel Seymour and the two judges had met before in the court room, and were now enjoying themselves in an old-fashioned way in the elaborate parlor of the old mansion.
Judge Bonham was very delicate and refined in his compliments of his friend Judge Livingstone, who in the niceties of the law "could divide a hair 'twixt the north and north-west side." He was the judge who had extracted the poison sacs from the fangs of reconstruction; the judge who had stampeded the vile and vicious hordes that thronged and polluted the temple of justice. As Judge Bonham looked at the man, he felt that the entreaty of the South had been answered by the Power that rules in heaven and earth.
"God give us men; a time like this demands
Great minds, strong hearts, true faith and willing hands;
Men whom the lust of office cannot buy,
Men who have honor and will not lie."
These gentlemen had scarcely begun to sap the foundations of the superstructure of reconstruction, when dinner was announced by the beautiful hostess, who stood in the door, as judge Bonham declared, encircled in a cincture of angelic grace. It was a bountiful meal; there were cheer and laughter and polite jest at the board, and as these distinguished gentlemen were bowing themselves out of the dining room, Judge Bonham was observed by Clarissa to take a napkin ring from his plate and put it in his pocket; with rolled up eyes and wide open mouth, Clarissa looked like a black idol in a Chinese temple. The guests again assembled in the library and Alice busied herself in arranging the table for tea.
"What sorter man is dat tother jedge Miss Alice?" asked Clarissa in an authoritative kind of a way. "I don't mean dat shiny-eyed jedge, but dat man dat has got dem grate big warts on his nose. Ef dat ar jedge cum to dis grate house many mo times ole missis silver is agwine to be all gone. She tole me to look arter her plunder. I don't ame to sass dat ar jedge Miss Alice, but de fust time I ketches him to hissef I'm ergwine to ax him please turn dem dere pockets rong side outtards und lemme see what he has got stowed erway in dere. Dem kote skeerts haint er bulgin out datterway fur nuffin. Twixt dat secesh man und de scalyhorgs, wun is jamby ez big er fellum ez de tuther; he ergwine erbout punishin tuther fokses for gwine rong, und he, yu mout say, is er conwick hissef. I nebber seed wot yu mout call a high quality white pusson steal yo fings rite fore yo eyes in de broad open daylight lak dat."
"You must not talk that way about Judge Bonham, Clarissa," rejoined Alice with irritation. "I am ashamed of you! What would father say if he were to hear you accuse his guest of stealing!" Alice continued rebukingly.
"Well, Miss Alice," said Clarissa apologetically, "It mout be dat I spoke too brash; seems lak do ef he was a sho nuff jedge he orter have mo manners dan agwine erbout shoolikin und pilferin lak dat; speks ef dat white man was sarched yu mout find udder wallybles belonging to dis grate house in his hine pockets dis werry minit; yu dun und heerd me say dem dar kote skeerts aint a bulging out dat dar way fur nuffin." Clarissa with malice prepense was arraigning the judge upon a cruel indictment, a prejudiced prosecution and a predetermined verdict evidently. There was but one plea that could avail the judge if Clarissa were polled as the jury, and that would require the immediate restitution of the stolen property, and an unconditional withdrawal from old marser's great house; or to punctuate the verdict in Clarissa's emphatic way,
"Don't yu never set yo foot in dis heer grate house no mo, epseps yu want ole Jube to wour yu up with wun moufful, ef dem is all de manners yu got."
"Permit me to ask you sir," observed Judge Bonham to Judge Livingstone, "if the conditions prevailing in the South are not entirely unlike those that obtain in the North?"
"Yes, indeed," replied Judge Livingstone. "It would be difficult to realize that we live under the same Federal government. Society in this country seems to be thoroughly disorganized. I can imagine that some great upheaval of nature has widely separated the South from the North."
"I presume," said Judge Bonham, "that you have seen southern character in all of its transformations in your courts?"
"Yes sir, and very frequently in its most abhorrent and disgusting forms. There is such a variety of indictable frauds and many of them growing out of the rudimentary education of the negroes, that this fact, in my opinion, is the most cogent argument against their education."
"I am very decidedly of that opinion," replied Judge Bonham with emphasis. "I believe if it were not for the criminal class of young negroes there would be very few indictments in the courts; but as the matter stands they are congested to that extent that our jails are always over crowded and so are our dockets."
"Do you know, sir," replied Judge Livingstone, "that there is a side to this ever-shifting panorama that challenges my profoundest sympathy? To give you an illustration: A few days ago, in this county of F., I saw in the dock a decayed old negro, who staggered into the bar from sheer exhaustion. He was dying piece-meal from starvation. He was indicted for the larceny of a peck of sweet potatoes. The prosecuting witness was a white man of about forty years of age, and was what is provincially known as a scalawag. I do not exaggerate very grossly when I say that a blacksmith would have hammered a plowshare out of his hard face. The old negro was convicted; he had no substantial defence. I said to him, 'I want you to tell me why you took the potatoes.' The poor old negro leaned heavily with both hands upon his staff, his unshorn white locks giving him the appearance of a 'sheik of the desert,' and raising his harrowed face, that was wet with tears, tremblingly addressed the court as he grasped the railing for support, 'Mars Jedge, I hab neber nied dis scusashun, und I tole de boss man ef he wudn't sen me to de jail I wud wurk hit out ef hit tuck seben yurs. I libs erway ober yander cross de mash. Dar is my ole marser a settin dar. He noes I'm er tellin yu de naked truf, und God in hebben noes I wudn't tell yu nary lie. Dar is foteen moufs in my fambly er cryin fer wittles ebery day de good Lawd sends; und Malindy, dat's my dorter, haint struck a lick o' wurk fur mo dan er hole yur; und dar's my growed-up son, dat's Joe, he got drounded in de crick nigh unto er month ago; und dar's my po wife, dat's Mimy, she tuck sick und died when she heerd dat Joe had drounded hissef, und nobody in de wurrel ter git ary moufful o' wittles epsep me; und I was so hongry, und de chillun wuz er cryin twell I wuz moest stracted; und I had a grate big bone fellyun on dis heer han'—dar tis, rite dar—so I cudn't wurk, und I went to de boss man, standin rite dar fo yo eyes, und axed him fer two er free little stringy taters; und he cussed me und driv me er way, und called me er ole free issu dimmycrat nigger; und my ole marser libed so fur erway I cudn't git nary wurd to him; und den, ez I wuz ergwine outen de plantashun, I seed two er free little stringy taters, mout be fo taters, er lyin on de tip eend o' de ridge in de brilin sun arter de taters had bin dug outen de patch, und I didn't fink it wuz no harm to nobody, und I tuck um und toted um home in my pocket ter de po little parishin yunguns, und—'
"Here the old negro broke down and cried as if his heart would break, and then wiping his eyes with his ragged coat sleeve, he continued,
"Und den dey tuck me und put me in de jale; und I axed de high shurriff ter please git wurd ter ole marser whar I wuz karserated, und he neber sont no wurd ter ole marser. Marser Jedge, I'm ergwine on eighty-free yurs ole, und ef I libs ter see nex Juvember, ef I don't make no mistake I'll be gwine in er hundred. I aint neber been kotched in no scrapes befo in my born days, has I ole marser?' Then turning to a white-haired man on the jury, 'Nary body, white er cullud, hab eber crooked de finger at enyfing I eber dun rong, und I'm too ole und crazyfied to be sont to de penitenshury, und fur de Lawd's sake, Mars Jedge, please don't sen me dar, ef yu duz my po little yunguns will parish ter def, und I axes all yu white gemmen on dat jurrer ter pray fur me, und de jedge too.'
"The court and jury were in tears when this eloquent plea was concluded, and the poor old negro, shaking from head to foot, sank back into his seat, bowed his white head upon his staff and covered his black face with his old hat. There was a painful pause in the court room; handkerchiefs were freely displayed here and there, and ominous sounds, as if there was weeping, was heard in the great press of people."
"What is your name?" asked the judge, addressing the white-haired juror in the box to whom the old negro had appealed as his master.
"Grissom," modestly replied the man.
"Do you know the character of this old negro?" asked the judge.
"Very good, very good sir," the juror excitedly repeated, "trustworthy and truthful under all circumstances sir."
After a moment's reflection the judge said to the old negro, "Stand up old man." The negro reeling from weakness raised his bowed, palsied frame, and repeated after the judge the formula used in recognizances as follows substantially.
"I duz hereby nowledg dat I is debted to de State of Norf Caliny in de sum ob ten millun dollars to be leveled pun my goods und cattle, lans turnements und harry dettyments to be woid on kondishun dat I maks my pussonel pearance fo de jedge of dis kote next Christmas und bide by de jedgement of dis kote."
"Now old negro," said the judge sympathetically, "You can go home."
"Tank yer mars jedge," he exclaimed as he advanced to grasp the judge's hand.
"May the good Lord in heaben allus be rite by your side when yu gibs jedgement." Taking up his old hat he bowed to the gentlemen of the jury with the observation,
"May nun of you white gemman ever git kotched in such a scrape as dis, epseps yu has dis heer jedge to stand twixt yu und de gallus." He turned again to the judge with a smile that played like sheet lightning over his haggard face and inquired humbly.
"Mars Jedge, duz yu specks me to pay dat passel of munny to de state nex Krismas too?"
At the conclusion of this narrative our mutual friend Judge Bonham arose to take his leave, remarking as he did so "that his visit should be long remembered, that his distinguished friends were so agreeable;" and grasping the hand of the judge he congratulated him and the country that "a Daniel had come to judgment." When the absent-minded gentleman arrived home, his servant Lije discovered that the judge's head down to his ears was immersed in a light derby hat, and he ventured to ask,
"Mars Jedge, what you agwine to do wid dat dar hat? To be sho you didn't swop your brand new slick beaver off for dat dar camp kittle?"
The judge in his chagrin saw that he had carried away Judge Livingstone's derby hat and had left his beaver in its place. And he said sharply to Lije,
"Go through all of my pockets and see if I have stolen any of the property of Colonel Seymour. I dare not trust myself to visit a neighbor that I am not liable to be sent to the penitentiary." The negro Lije exploiting all suspected places exhibited to the judge a table ring and napkin, that by some inexplicable means had been transferred to his pocket.
"Gracious heavens!" the humiliated man exclaimed, "Larceny both grand and petit by the eternal! Felony without benefit of clergy! Return those stolen articles at once, you black scamp, where they belong, and present my compliments to Colonel Seymour, and tell him they got into the possession of Judge Bonham without his knowledge and against his consent and bring back my beaver and cane. Stop! stop!" he exclaimed excitedly, "What is this?" drawing from his vest pocket a small miniature of Alice that he had seen upon the parlor mantel. "Great Jerusalem!" he fairly shrieked, "condemned beyond the hope of pardon."