We have some very dull scholars. We have some bright ones. One young man, fourteen months ago, did not know his letters. Now he reads in National Third Reader and United States history, has commenced grammar and geography, and is in fractions in arithmetic. One pupil, who is a minister, is over thirty years of age. Three other scholars are twenty-nine. Nearly all the larger ones are teachers, or are preparing to teach. I think they will do much good for their people.
I may be mistaken, but it seems to me that the negro does not investigate or reason much, but acts according to his feelings. Even the babies do not tear up their playthings to see what is inside of them.
They are full of signs and superstitious notions. Our little girl, Addie, showed a very small hen’s egg to some little girls. One of them said: “My mother never allows us to take one into the house, it is bad luck; but it is good luck to throw it over the house, and we always do that.”
Mr. C. and I both teach six hours per day. Sometimes after school we take the carriage and go to see some sick person. Last week we went three miles to see one poor sick woman, who has lost the use of one eye and is nearly blind in the other. She is a great sufferer, but said, “My many afflictions and tribulations bring me near the Lord, and I am so proud to see you all.” Last Saturday we went four miles to see an old man who is probably on his death-bed. He was sixty-three years a slave, is a Christian, has united with the church since we came, and said that if he never met us here on earth again, he hoped to in heaven. We sent him some food suitable for him.
We see so much destitution that we can’t help giving until we feel it. We do almost entirely without butter, and frequently without sugar. We live very plainly, but contentedly. One man told in church how much good it did him, when Mr. C. visited him last summer, and assured him that his child was not past recovery. It was a long ride of fourteen miles on horseback under a burning Southern sun; but it greatly encouraged these humble Christians. They are so ignorant that when they get sick, they think somebody has poisoned them. They do not seem to have any confidence in each other. One young woman, who spent five years with Miss Douglass, assured me that she would not take medicine from a colored doctor, if he was ever so well educated—“Because I am afraid he might be mad at me and poison me.” It seems discouraging when years of good training fail to eradicate such silly notions.
We are in a Ku Klux neighborhood, twenty white families within a mile of us; but only three of these have ever made us a social call.
Our children have no associates. I am glad that there are six of them and not just one or two.
We are obliged to keep one of the older children out of school to take care of the babies, aged two and four years. I think it would be a sin to leave them in the care of any of these colored people, the greater part of each day. They are so ignorant and sinful and superstitious, that I am sure they would poison their young minds. Perhaps that is the reason the Southern people have given so much trouble, they have had such ignorant nurses.
Our Sunday-school is large and doing well. We have large classes because we have so few competent teachers; we are trying to train others. Church services are well attended. Our work is made up of lights and shades, but we like it, and thank the Lord that He permits us to be humble workers in this part of His vineyard.