THE TRUE BLUE CARD.
BY SARAH MAY.
"Why are you laughing so here all alone, Auntie?" said Ralph Hill, as he came into a room where Inez Hill sat reading a letter and laughing till the tears ran down her cheeks. "Do tell me, please. It must be so funny—and what are all these blue cards?"
"One thing at a time, Ralph," said Aunt Inez. "I'll read you the letter I was laughing at and then tell you about the blue cards, for they go together. The letter is from a dear friend who is teaching the colored children in the South. It tells of her first attempts with them. I'll not read it all. Listen:"
My Dear Old Friend: I must tell you to-day about my promising pupil, Nan. I am learning patience whether she learns anything or not. One day I overheard Nan and Lila (the pretty mulatto girl I told you about) talking together about like this:
"Nan," said Lila, "do you want to learn to read like white folks?"
"Course I do," laughed Nan. "Hi yi, ho yo, but how's I ever goin' to?"
"Miss Kitty learn us," said Lila. "Heard her tell Miss Lizzy so. Me and you are going to her room after sun-down, and she'll learn us a lesson. I've learned right smart now. Know the a b c, and can spell a heap. It's 'mazin' good."
Nan opened her big eyes as Lila went one, than gave a quick toss of her head and said: "Feels mighty peart and proud like, Lile, over your larnin'. Reckon some other folks can learn too, if they wants to."
Nan is not a very quiet pupil. She has queer remarks to make about each letter as I point it out. I told her the first letter was A. She made a funny courtesy, and said:
"Mighty glad to make your 'quaintance, Massa A. Been wantin' to know you long time ago."
"That is B, Nan," I continued.
"B," she screamed, "Oh! I feared of him. Will he sting? Done got my eyes all stunged up with them bees once. Couldn't see nothin' for a week. Fac—Miss."
"I don't like X," she burst forth, "he's like Miss Lizzy when I's done broke sumthin', so cross."
* * * * *
In spite of her chattering and her capers, Nan learned all her letters that night. Teacher and scholar were astonished and delighted at her success. The next evening, however, showed that Nan could forget as quickly as she learned.
"Nan! What is that letter?" I asked, pointing to A.
"Dunno, Miss."
"What is that round letter?"
"Done forgot, Miss Kitty."
"Well, what is that letter that looks like Miss Lizzy when she's cross?"
"I disremember."
And thus it was all through the alphabet. Nan had forgotten the whole. She could not be persuaded to try again.
"Laws, Miss Kitty," she cried. "I'se done learnt 'em onct. Does white peoples learn 'em twicet?"
"Yes, Nan," said I. "If they forget the first time."
"Sho," said she with a queer twist of her black face. "I'd be 'shamed to learn it twict. Ef 'twont stay in dis head first time, 'tan't no good."
So I concluded to let the alphabet go for awhile and try spelling.
Nan learned this also quickly at first. After she had learned to spell cat and many other words, I said, "Now, Nan, I'll teach you to spell 'Kitty.'"
"Oh, I knows. Miss Kit," she interrupted, "Lemme spell, Ise-self.
Must be cat wid de tail cut off. C—A—Kitty."
* * * * *
After awhile as Lila progressed and read stories to Nan, the little rogue "wisht" she could read too. "Couldn't see no use in dat yaller gal gittin' so fur ahead." When she found she could only read by learning those little things that "bobbed so spry into a body's head and hopped out a heap quicker," then she reckoned she'd have to come to it. She tried once more. It was a long time before she could call the letters and spell out words, and it was many months before she could read at all without spelling. It was hard work for Nan and harder for her teacher. Before she had half looked at a word she would hear a blackbird or see a hawk after a chicken, or she thought "sure, Miss Lizzy called." I tried to have patience and in the end I conquered. Nan was "mighty proud" when she read the last page of her primer.
"Don't think much of that ole book, no how," she said. "Got it all in here now. Spect I'd better be spry an' git inter nex' book fore I disremember this ere."
I begin to hope that both Lila and Nan are beginning a Christian life. But oh! it takes so long for seed to grow in soil that has been trampled on for years. But I hear Nan now singing the chorus of an old war song, still sung by the colored folks:
"We're coming, Father Abraham,
Three hundred thousand more."
And I will believe it. There are more than three hundred thousand just such ignorant girls and boys. They "will come" if we go after them.
Do "pray and pay" for us. Yours,
KITTY.
Ralph enjoyed the letter so much that he forgot for once to ask a question until his aunt took up a blue card and handed it to him.
"Oh, yes," he exclaimed. "Now tell me about the cards."
"Read it," said his aunt.
Ralph read as follows: "The A.M.A. True Blue Card."
"Oh, I know," said Ralph. "A.M.A. (ama) means love those. I had it in my Latin lesson this week."
"Love those, is it?" questioned Miss Hill. "Pretty good meaning that for our abbreviations. A.M.A.—the Love Them Society; it means just that. Love your neighbors, love your brothers."
"What brothers?" inquired Ralph. "I haven't any; wish I had."
"Yes, you have, my boy," answered Miss Hill. "You have red, white, black, and yellow brothers, and this 'A.M.A.' is to help them to read, to work on the farm and in the house, to learn trades, and to know the best things. Your black brothers are the negroes who live in all the South, the yellow are the Chinese in California, the red are the Indians in the Territories, in the schools of Hampton, and the whites are in the mountains of Kentucky and Tennessee. All these little books that I will show you tell about these brothers and sisters. Now read the card. Read it all.