During the morning most of the negro men stayed in the cane-brake, some nodding and some patching their clothes, which were already full of patches. But after dinner, a feast of broiled fish, roasted sweet potatoes, and ash-cake, they all went away, leaving Crazy Sue to take care of the children. After the men had all gone, the woman sat with her head covered with her arms. She sat thus for a long time. After a while Lucien went to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Nothin’, honey; I wuz des a-settin’ yer a-studyin’ an’ a-studyin’. Lots er times I gits took dat a-way.”
“What are you studying about?” said Lucien.
“’Bout folks. I wuz des a-studyin’ ’bout folks, an’ ’bout how come I whar I is, w’en I oughter be somers else. W’en I set down dis a-way, I gits dat turrified in de min’ dat I can’t stay on de groun’ sca’cely. Look like I want ter rise up in de elements an’ fly.”
“What made you run away?” Lucien asked with some curiosity.
“Well, you know, honey,” said Crazy Sue, after a pause, “my marster ain’t nigh ez good ter his niggers ez yo’ pa is ter his’n. ’Tain’t dat my marster is any mo’ strick, but look like hit fret ’im ef he see one er his niggers settin’ down anywheres. Well, one time, long time ago, I had two babies, an’ dey wuz twins, an’ dey wuz des ’bout ez likely little niggers ez you ever did see. De w’ite folks had me at de house doin’ de washin’ so I could be where I kin nurse de babies. One time I wuz settin’ in my house nursin’ un um, an’ while I settin’ dar I went fast ter sleep. How long I sot dar ’sleep, de Lord only knows, but w’en I woked up, Marster wuz stan’in in de do’, watchin’ me. He ain’t say nothin, yit I knowed dat man wuz mad. He des turn on his heel an’ walk away. I let you know I put dem babies down an’ hustled out er dat house mighty quick.
POOR OLD SUE TELLS HER STORY.
“Well, sir, dat night de foreman come ’roun’ an’ tole me dat I mus’ go ter de fiel’ de nex’ mornin’. Soon ez he say dat, I up an’ went ter de big house an’ ax Marster w’at I gwine do wid de babies ef I went ter de fiel’. He stood an’ look at me, he did, an’ den he writ a note out er his pocket-book, an’ tol’ me ter han’ it ter de overseer. Dat w’at I done dat ve’y night, an’ de overseer, he took an’ read de note, an’ den he up an’ say dat I mus’ go wid de hoe-han’s, way over ter de two-mile place.