“What became of Sally?” asked Sappho.
“Bless yer soul, Miss Sappho, when she sawed me go she jes’ broke an’ run down them steps plum inter the street, an’ made tracks fer the house all dressed as she was in white shefong, an’ when I got back thar she was a-standin’ up in the middle o’ the kitchen floor grinnin’ like a Chessy cat. ‘Mis’ Davis,’ says she, ‘Mis’ Davis, I wouldn’t a-walked up thet chuch aisle with thet white gempleman fer a thousan’ dollars, ’deed’n I wouldn’t.’ I was so mad with thet fool gal thet I jes’ itched ter spank her well. How we to ’vance eny ef we don’t ’brace our ’tunities, I’d like ter know?”
All the committees worked willingly, and soon every one of the departments had been provided with appropriate enclosures like quaint pictures set in exquisite frames. The bare walls disappeared, and the whole place burst into beauty bewildering enough to draw the money from the pockets of the spectators who would come with the evening to help a worthy charity. Mrs. Robinson, with her “old-fashioned busy bees,” as they called themselves, had hurriedly decorated the dining-room with American flags and Christian Endeavor banners. The long, white-covered tables looked very inviting, and the motherly women in black dresses, white aprons and bandana handkerchiefs tied into fantastic head-coverings, added another charm which their soft Southern accent completed. Late in the afternoon the tired workers examined the results of their labors with much satisfaction.
XI
The Fair
Concluded
“In feasts maturing busy hands appear,
And jest and laugh assail the ready ear.”
On Monday evening at 7 p.m. the doors of the fair were opened. In the center of the hall the prize piano was advantageously placed; and Dora, as the organist of the church, displayed its merits in a few well-chosen numbers. There were selections given also by a banjo, guitar and mandolin club of local reputation. Cozily ensconced behind a bower of tropical plants and flowers they discoursed popular selections in a manner which displayed most favorably the really fine musical ability which each one of them possessed. In another corner of the hall, under a tent which represented an Indian lodge, was a great and mysterious attraction: Madam Frances, spiritualistic soothsayer and marvellous mind-reader, had offered her services to the committee, and would send out bulletins, at so much a letter, on subjects supposed to be unknown to all the world but the persons themselves. The young people were in a flutter over this particular feature, the men no less so than the women. Who could tell what might happen through her agency? Long delayed questions might be asked; unknown feelings might be revealed to anxious hearts. One might buy a lucky charm and present it to his inamorata, and by contact with it her coldness should vanish. Henry might receive a letter whose sweet perfume should banish the thoughts of Susan and turn his wandering heart to its first allegiance. Oh, happy race! which even now, when life is but a bare existence, though torn by howling mobs and scourged by fire, finds pleasure in the simple pastimes of innocence.
Superstition is supposed to be part of the Negro’s heritage. They have brought much of it from their native Africa. It gives color, picturesqueness—light and shade we may say—to the darkness of life and complexion which so far has marked the Negro for its own. Claiming kinship with the Egyptians and other black races of the Eastern continent, the Negro is thought to possess wonderful powers of necromancy. Races are like families. The East Indian shows remarkable ability to awaken the superstitious fears of a community in his native country; so with the Egyptian; so with the Negro. But transplant them on a foreign shore and much of their supposed power vanishes. So with the Negro. We hear much of spells and charms being put upon unpleasant neighbors; wonderful stories of lizards being taken from the leg or arm of an enemy, placed there by the arts of
