“She jest no good no how––that Cynthy. How they got work out o’ her ovah on the Masterson plantation I don’t know, fo’ I couldn’t. Think she’d even cook vittels fo’ her own self if she could help it? No, sah! She too plum lazy. She jes’ had a notion that bein’ free meant doen’ nothen’ ’tall fo’ no body. It needed a whole meeten’ house full o’ religion to get along with that gal, ’thout cussen’ at her, an’ as I’d done trained in the race course an’ not in a pulpit, seem like I noways fit for the ’casion. But I devilled along with her for three yeahs, and she had two boys by that time––didn’t make no sort o’ difference. 154 She got worse ’stead o’ better o’ her worthlessness, but I tried to put up with it till she jest put the cap sheaf on the hull business by getten’ religion up thah in the gum tree settlement, an’ I drew the line at that, I tell yo.’ Thah she was, howlen’ happy every night in the week ’long-side o’ Brother Peter Mosely. Brother Mosely’s wife didn’t seem to favah their religion no more’n I did; so, seen’ as I couldn’t follow roun’ aftah her with a hickory switch, an’ couldn’t keep her home or at work no othah way, I just got myself a divorce, an’ settled down alone on a patch o’ lan’ I bought o’ Mahs Duke, an’ I kep’ on looken’ aftah his stables long as he kept any. He died just afore young Mahs Tom married Miss Leo Masterson.”
“But what of the divorce? Did it improve her religion or cure her laziness?” asked Delaven, who found more of novelty in the black man’s affairs than the master’s.
“Who––Cinthy? I just sold her right back to Mistah John Masterson fo’ twenty-five dollar less than I paid, an’ the youngsters they went into the bargain; fo’ I tell yo’, sah, them Nawthen niggahs is bad stock to manage––if they’s big or little; see what happened that Steve o’ hern; done run off, he has, an’ him ole enough to know bettah. Oh, yes, sah, I up an’ I sold the whole batch; that how come I get my money back fo’ her, an’ stock my little patch o’ groun’. Yes, sah, she got scared an’ settle down when I done sold her back again. Mahs Masterson he got mo’ work out o’ her than I could; he knew mo’ ’bout managen’ them Nawthen niggahs.”
“Wouldn’t he be a find for those abolitionists?” asked Evilena, laughing. “Nelse, you’ve been very entertaining, and if your Miss Gertrude needs you to stay about the place we’ll steal hours to hear about old times.”
“Thanky, Miss Lena; yo’ servant, sah; it sartainly does do me good to get in heah an’ see all these heah faces again––mighty fine they are. I mind when some o’ them was painted. Mahs Duke’s was done in Orleans; so was Miss Bar’bra, it’s in the parlah. But Mahs Tom––he had an artis’ painter come down from Wash’nton to do Miss Gertrude’s, once when she just got ovah sick spell––he scared lest she die an’ nevah have no likeness; her ma, she died sudden that-a-way. We all use to think it bad luck to get likenesses; I nevah had none; Mahs Matt nevah had none; an’ we’re a liven’ yet. All the rest had ’em took an’ wheah are they?”
“Now, Uncle Nelse, you don’t mean to say it shortens people’s lives to have their picture taken?”
“Don’t like to say, Miss Lena, but curious things do happen in this world. That artist man, his name, Mistah Madden, he made Mahs Tom’s likeness, an’ Mahs Tom got killed! An’ all time Mahs Tom’s likeness was bein’ done, an’ all time Miss Gertrude’s was a doin’, that Mistah Madden he just go ’stracted to paint one o’ Retta to take ’way with him. All the niggahs jest begged her not to let him, but she only laughed––she laughed most o’ the time them days; an’ Mahs Tom he sided with Mistah Madden, so she give consent, an’ he painted two––one monstrous big one to take ’way with him, an’ then a teeny one fo’ a breastpin; he give it to Retta ’cause she set still an’ let him make the big one. An’ now what happened? Within a yeah Mahs Tom, he was killed, an’ Retta Caris, she about died o’ some crazy brain fever, an’ it was yeahs afore she knew her own name again; yes, went ’wildered like––she did; an’ that’s what two likenesses done to my sutain knowledge.”
“Then I’ve hoodooed Dr. Delaven, for I made a pencil picture of him only this morning.”