Folks from Dixie

by Paul Laurence Dunbar

“Nex’ mo’nin’ when ole Mas’ come down to brekfus’, he looked lak he done had a long spell o’ sickness. But he wasn’t no man to ’spose his feelin’s. He never let on, never eben spoke erbout Mas’ Tho’nton bein’ erway f’om de table. He didn’t eat much, an’ fin’ly I see him look right long an’ stiddy at de place whah Mas’ Tho’nton used to set an’ den git up an’ go ’way f’om de table. I knowed dat he was done filled up. I went to de liberry do’ an’ I could hyeah him sobbin’ lak a chile. I tol’ Aunt Emmerline ’bout it, but she jes’ shuck huh haid an’ didn’t say nuffin’ a’-tall.

“Well, hit went dis erway fu’ ’bout a week. Mas’ Jack was gittin’ paler an’ paler evah day, an’ hit jes’ ’menced to come to my min’ how ole he was. One day Aunt Emmerline say she gwine erway, an’ she mek Jim hitch up de spring wagon an’ she dribe on erway by huhse’f. Co’se, now, Aunt Emmerline she do putty much ez she please, so I don’t think nuffin’ ’bout hit. When she come back, ’long to’ds ebenin’, I say, ‘Aunt Emmerline, whah you been all day?’

“‘Nemmine, honey, you see,’ she say, an’ laff. Well, I ain’t seed nobidy laff fu’ so long dat hit jes’ mek me feel right wa’m erroun’ my hea’t, an’ I laff an’ keep on laffin’ jes’ at nuffin’.

“Nex’ mo’nin’ Aunt Emmerline mighty oneasy, an’ I don’ know whut de matter ontwell I hyeah some un say, ‘Tek dat hoss, Ike, an’ feed him, but keep de saddle on.’ Aunt Emmerline jes’ fa’ly fall out de do’ an’ I lak to drap, ’ca’se hit’s Mas’ Tho’nton’s voice. In a minute he come to me an’ say, ‘Doshy, go tell my father I’d lak to speak to him.’

“I don’ skeercely know how I foun’ my way to de liberry, but I did. Ole Mas’ was a-settin’ dah wif a open book in his han’, but his eyes was jes’ a-starin’ at de wall, an’ I knowed he wasn’t a-readin’. I say, ‘Mas’ Jack,’ an’ he sta’t jes’ lak he rousin’ up, ‘Mas’ Jack, Mas’ Tho’nton want to speak to you.’ He jump up quick, an’ de book fall on de flo’, but he grab a cheer an’ stiddy hisse’f. I done tol’ you Mas’ Jack wasn’t no man to ’spose his feelin’s. He jes’ say, slow lak he hol’in’ hisse’f, ‘Sen’ him in hyeah.’ I goes back an’ ’livers de message, den I flies roun’ to de po’ch whah de liberry winder opens out, ’ca’se, I ain’t gwine lie erbout it, I was mighty tuk up wif all dis gwine on an’ I wanted to see an’ hyeah,—an’ who you reckon ’roun’ dah but Aunt Emmerline! She jes’ say, ‘S-sh!’ ez I come ’roun’, an’ clas’ huh han’s. In a minute er so, de liberry do’ open an’ Mas’ Tho’nton come in. He shet hit behin’ him, an’ den stood lookin’ at his pa, dat ain’t never tu’ned erroun’ yit. Den he say sof’, ‘Father.’ Mas’ Jack tu’ned erroun’ raal slow an’ look at his son fu’ a while. Den he say, ‘Do you still honour me wif dat name?’ Mas’ Tho’nton got red in de face, but he answer, ‘I don’ know no other name to call you.’

“‘Will you set down?’ Mas’ speak jes’ lak he was a-talkin’ to a stranger.

“‘Ef you desiah me to.’ I see Mas’ Tho’nton was a-bridlin’ up too. Mas’ jes’ th’owed back his haid an’ say, ‘Fa’ be it f’om any Venable to fu’git cou’tesy to his gues’.’ Young Mas’ moved erway f’om de cheer whah he was a-gwine to set, an’ his haid went up. He spoke up slow an’ delibut, jes’ lak his pa, ‘I do not come, suh, in dat cha’acter, I is hyeah ez yo’ son.’

“Well, ole Mas’ eyes fa’ly snapped fiah. He was white ez a sheet, but he still spoke slow an’ quiet, hit made me creep, ‘You air late in ’memberin’ yo’ relationship, suh.’

“‘I hab never fu’got it.’