The Chronicles of Aunt Minervy Ann

by Joel Chandler Harris

“Well, suh, he done mighty well; I’ll say dat fer ’im. He want too many clean shirts an’ collars fer ter suit me, but he say he bleeze ter have um dar whar he at, an’ I ain’t make no complaint ’bout dat; but I took notice dat he wuz sorter offish wid Marse Tumlin. Mo’ dan dat, I tuck notice dat needer Marse Tumlin ner Marse Bolivar so much ez look at ’im when dey pass ’im by. I know’d by dat dat sump’n wuz up.

“Now, Hamp ain’t had no reg’lar time fer comin’ home. Sometimes he’d come We’n’sday, an’ den ag’in he’d come Friday. I ax ’im why he ain’t stay de week out an’ ’ten’ ter his work like he oughter. He say he gettin’ des much pay when he at home loafin’ ’roun’ ez he do when he up yer. Well, suh, dat ’stonish me. You know yo’se’f, suh, dat when folks is gittin’ pay fer dat what dey ain’t doin’, dey’s boun’ ter be swindlin’ gwine on some’rs, ef not wuss, an’ dat what I tol’ ’im. He laugh an’ say dat’s on account er politics an’ de erpublican party, an’ I make answer dat ef dat de case, dey er bofe rank an’ rotten; desso.

“We went on fum one thing ter an’er, twel bimeby I ax ’im what dey is ’twixt ’im an’ Marse Tumlin an’ Marse Bolivar. Hamp say dey ain’t nothin’ ’ceppin’ dat dey done ax ’im fer ter do sump’n dat ain’t in ’cordance wid erpublican pencerpuls, an’ he bleeze ter effuse um. Well, suh, dis kinder riled me. I know’d right pine-blank dat Hamp ain’t know no mo’ ’bout erpublican pencerpuls dan I is, an’ I wouldn’t a-know’d um ef I’d a met um in de road wid der name painted on um; so I ax ’im what erpublican pencerpuls hender’d ’im fum doin’ what Marse Tumlin ax ’im ter do. He sot dar an’ hummed an’ haw’d, an’ squirm’d in his cheer, an’ chaw’d on de een’ er his segyar. I wait long ’nuff, an’ den I ax ’im ag’in. Well, suh, dat’s been twenty years ago, an’ he ain’t never tol’ me yit what dem erpublican pencerpuls wuz. I ain’t flingin’ off on um, suh. I ’speck dey wuz a bairlful er dem erpublican pencerpuls, an’ maybe all good uns, but I know’d mighty well dat dey ain’t hender dat nigger man fum doin’ what Marse Tumlin ax ’im ter do.

“So de nex’ chance I git, I up’n ax Marse Tumlin what de matter wuz ’twix’ him an’ Hamp. He say ’twa’n’t nothin’ much, ’cep’ dat Hamp had done come up here in Atlanta an’ sol’ hisse’f out to a passel er kyarpit-baggers what ain’t no intruss down here but ter git han’s on all de money in sight. I say, ‘He may ’a’ gi’ hisse’f ’way, Marse Tumlin, but he sho’ ain’t sell hisse’f, ’kaze I ain’t seen one er de money.’ Marse Tumlin ’low, ‘Well, anyhow, it don’t make much diffunce, Minervy Ann. Dem kyarpit-baggers up dar, dey pat ’im on de back an’ tell ’im he des ez good ez what dey is. I had de idee, Minervy Ann,’ he say, ‘dat Hamp wuz lots better dan what dey is, but he ain’t; he des ’bout good ez dey is.’

“Marse Tumlin do like he don’t wanter talk ’bout it, but dat ain’t nigh satchify me. I say, ‘Marse Tumlin, what did you want Hamp ter do?’ He drum on de arm er de cheer wid his fingers, an’ sorter study. Den he say, ‘Bein’ it’s all done an’ over wid, I don’t min’ tellin’ you all about it. Does you know who’s a-runnin’ dis county now?’ I had a kinder idee, but I say, ‘Who, Marse Tumlin?’ He ’low, ‘Mahlon Botts an’ his br’er Mose; dey er runnin’ de county, an’ dey er ruinin’ it.’

“Den he ax me ef I know de Bottses. Know um! I’d been a-knowin’ um sence de year one, an’ dey wuz de ve’y drugs an’ offscourin’s er creation. I ax Marse Tumlin how come dey ter have holt er de county, an’ he say dey make out dey wuz good erpublicans, des ter make de niggers vote um in office—so dey kin make money an’ plunder de county. Den I ax ’im what he want Hamp ter do. He say all he want Hamp ter do wuz ter he’p ’im git er whatyoumaycallum—yasser, dat’s it, a bill; dat’s de ve’y word he say—he want Hamp ter he’p ’im git a bill th’oo de Legislatur’; an’ den he went on an’ tell me a long rigamarolious ’bout what ’twuz, but I’ll never tell you in de roun’ worl’.”

[The proceedings of the Georgia Legislature reported in the Atlanta New Era, of November 10, 1869, show that the measure in question was a local bill to revive the polling-places in the militia districts of the county represented by the Hon. Hampton Tumlin, and to regulate elections so that there could be no repeating. This verification of Aunt Minervy Ann’s statement was made long ago after she told the story, and purely out of curiosity. The discussions shed an illuminating light over her narrative, but it is impossible to reproduce them here, even in brief.]

“He tol’ me dat, suh, an’ den he le’nt back in de cheer, an’ kinder hummed a chune. An’ me—I stood up dar by de fireplace an’ studied. Right den an’ dar I made up my min’ ter one thing, an’ I ain’t never change it, needer; I made up my min’ dat ef we wuz all gwine ter be free an’ live in de same neighborhoods—dat ef we wuz gwine ter do dat, whatsomever wuz good fer de white folks bleeze ter be good fer de niggers, an’ whatsomever wuz good fer Marse Tumlin an’ Miss Vallie wuz des ez good fer me an’ Hamp.

“I ’low, ‘Marse Tumlin, when you gwine up dar whar Hamp at?’ He say, ‘Oh, I dunno; I’m tired er de infernal place,’ desso. Den he look at me right hard. ‘What make you ax?’ sez he. I ’low, ‘’Kaze ef youer gwine right soon, I’m gwine wid you.’ He laugh an’ say, ‘What de dickunce you gwine up dar fer?’ I ’low, ‘I gwine up dar fer ter jine de Legislatur’. I ain’t here tell dat dem what jines hatter be baptize in runnin’ water, an’ ef dey ain’t, den I’ll jine long wid Hamp.’ Marse Tumlin say, ‘You reckin Hamp would be glad fer to see you, Minervy Ann?’ I ’low, ‘He better had be, ef he know what good fer ’im.’ Marse Tumlin say, ‘Ef I wuz you, Minervy Ann, I wouldn’t go up dar spyin’ atter Hamp. He’ll like you none de better fer it. De las’ time I wuz up dar, Hamp wuz havin’ a mighty good time. Ef you know what’s good fer you, Minervy Ann, you won’t go up dar a-doggin’ atter Hamp.’

“Well, suh, right at dat time I had de idee dat Marse Tumlin wuz prankin’ an’ projeckin’; you know how he runs on; but he wa’n’t no mo’ prankin’ dan what I am right now. (Nummine! I’ll git back ter Hamp terreckly.) I laugh an’ say, ‘I ain’t gwine ter dog atter Hamp, Marse Tumlin; I des wanter go up dar an’ see how he gittin’ on, an’ fin’ out how folks does when dey sets up dar in de Legislatur’. An’ ef you’ll put dat ar whatshisname—bill; dat’s right, suh; bill wuz de word—ef you’ll put dat ar bill in yo’ pocket, I’ll see what Hamp kin do wid it.’ Marse Tumlin ’low, ‘’Tain’t no use fer ter see Hamp, Minervy Ann. He done tol’ me he can’t do nothin’. I lef’ de bill wid ’im.’