“Think I gwine hab Cage layin’ roun’ here in de shade er w’arin’ er broadclorf ever’ day—an’ Ole Marse ain’ do dat—an’ er-settin’ up he ole foots ter be fanned lack dey was sumpen, an’ dey es big es all out-doo’s, an’ he er-pesterin’ me ’bout he fried chicken fur dinner lack he were white—an’ dey sen’ hit ter him, too. My Lord! Um—Ole Marse done los’ he head ter ’low dat; but I hain’t los’ mine, sho mun, and I gwine git eben wid Cage. Talkin’ ’bout freedom dis an’ freedom dat, an’ erlowin’ dat hit sumpen dat Milly cain’t git. Um—if hit make er body es low-down an’ es triflin’ es Cage be, I lay I don’ want hit!”
But it was glorious to be envied—a field-hand envied even by the house-negroes. So Micajah buried his bare feet in the dust when impressing a crowd, and rose in the dignity of his broadcloth. He was a king, though even for a day, and no ancestor by the far banks of the Congo ever ruled more royally.
He was abused behind his back, but the fruits of the earth were brought to his cabin. The horn blew in the morning, but Micajah turned over for another nap. Milly put the buttermilk on the table, but Cage had coffee from the big house; and at last freedom had grown so great that Micajah declared that Milly should stand while he was served—that a free man could not sit at table with a slave, even though she was his wife.
Then Milly rose in wrath, and laid two crossed sticks tied with hair in the chimney lock, but held her peace. Micajah shivered; ruefully he regretted his boldness, for the dignity of the free man could not overcome the superstition of the slave, and he had known Milly’s work of old. Alas for Micajah! In the splendor of his broadcloth and the deliciousness of freedom he had forgotten to transfer his own hoodoo—it was even then reposing in the pocket of the discarded blue-check trousers—and Milly’s charm would work!
The clearing down by the river was progressing. It was a kind of extra work, and a barn dance and barbecue had been promised in the Quarters when the task should be completed. So it was even pleasure, this sweating and hard labor, with the pot of gold, as it were, at the end; and, with the “whoraw” in the Quarters attending each morning’s departure, the spirit of habit even tempted Uncle Cage to join, for it was getting lonesome with nobody but the little nigger—not even Milly in the cabin to lord it over—and the laborers were too busy to listen to him if he went idle-handed to the clearing; but he was a free man, and freedom did not stoop to such without necessity.
But latterly the monarchy was not nearly so absolute as it had been; the negroes were not half so envious. Too much familiarity and boasting were breeding contempt, and though Milly was more than welcome among them, they looked at him askance whenever he sought to join in their recreations.
Growing bolder, they quizzed his little “nig” about him, to the former’s utter demoralization, poking fun at the bare feet and broadcloth; and one of the smart house-negroes disrespectfully propounded a conundrum, in effect, “If all work an’ no play make Cage er dull nigger, what do all play make him?” Milly’s brother, a field-hand, had actually shouted out, “A big fool nigger!” at which Cage and his fan-bearer walked away in dignified silence. But the fan-bearer was far from satisfactory; there was that in his manner which betokened sullenness rather than the awe with which he was at first infused; and though he habitually dodged, it was rather from the fear of the missile than of the man. There was even a symptom of rebellion, which Micajah, finding the arts of civilization deficient, promptly put down by threatening to hoodoo him with a ’gater.
The imp was quelled for a few days, and during that time he spent all the spare moments when Cage was asleep in the careful examination of his legs and arms for the first indication of the ’gater, guardedly holding his breath to feel an internal or external wiggle; but, as no signs appeared, he turned a pirouette on his great toe and whispered to the watermelons in the patch that “Marse ’Cajah wa’n’t nuffin but er nigger man, arter all.”