Madam Frances was supposed to be skilled in the occult arts which were once the glory of the freshly imported African. Wonderful tales were told of her ability to foretell the future. Her services were of great value to the managers of the fair, for her fame had been rumored abroad, through the members of the church, and it was popularly reported that some of the richest people in the city would visit the fair, if for nothing but to test the ability of this woman. And as one gazed upon her he might be pardoned for thinking that within that dark house, moulded upon symmetrical lines, and appearing as though cut from purest ebony, albeit somewhat thin and spare, as became one past the meridian of life and now upon the road leading downward into the shadows of the last valley through which we must pass on our outward journey toward the spheres of celestial light, dwelt a rare mind. How did she look?
“I knew a princess; she was old,
Crisp-haired, flat-featured, with a look
Such as no dainty pen of gold
Would write of in a fairy book.
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Her face was like the Sphinx’s face, to me,
Touched with vast patience, desert grace,
And lonesome, brooding mystery.Nothing of loveliest loveliness
This strange, sad princess seemed to lack;
Majestic with her calm distress
She was, and beautiful, though black.”
A quaint conceit which gave great pleasure to the children, big and little, was the pretty great-nephew of the seeress who, dressed in costume, represented Mercury and carried messages to the fortunate ones remembered by the mystic powers of Futurity. Alphonse was a beautiful boy about eight years old, with golden curls and dark blue eyes that looked out on life from beneath their sweeping lashes with a glance all too melancholy for one of his tender years. There are children who seem to have been born with the shadows of life heavy upon them. So it was with little Alphonse. He passed from groups of merry young people and pleasant elders who, attracted by the beauty of the weird child, sought to beguile him with soft caress and loving touch; he would stand quietly waiting until the speaker had finished his question, would answer carefully, and suffer the caresses as though accepting them as a part of his duty, and would return to the tent and his aunt, evincing no desire for the frolic and fun which belongs to the golden days of childhood. Many influential whites were present in order to display their philanthropic interest in the welfare of the colored people. They gazed with surprise upon the child, and could not be convinced when told that he was a Negro, and identified by ties of blood with the blackest men and women in the crowded company. In a distant corner Sappho sat keeping a strict account of the moneys received. Occasionally she would leave her seat and mingle with the crowd. Gowned in a pure white china silk with a bunch of her favorite Jacks in her corsage, she moved “a daughter of the gods divinely fair.” And many a thought came into the heart of one learned doctor as he gazed on the child and the beautiful girl, and then upon faces ebony-hued but bright and sparkling with the light of freedom and intelligence. In that moment a cloud passed from before his mental vision, and he beheld in all its hideousness the cankering sore which is eating into the heart of republican principles and stamping the lie upon the Constitution. Expediency and right must go hand in hand. There is no room for compromise.
Sappho was tired, and one of the young girls in her Bible class, noticing the weariness of her attitude, insisted upon assuming the duties of cashier for an hour. She gladly availed herself of the girl’s offer, and turned with a sigh of relief to find a secluded seat where she could watch unobserved the passing of the gay throng. As she turned a hand was laid gently on her arm, and Will Smith’s gay voice sounded in her ear: “Whither away, fair lady?”
Sappho smiled back into the debonair face as she replied: “Just to the fairy grotto to rest a while.”
“I will accompany thee, fair queen,” hummed Will, as he drew her hand within his arm and moved slowly through the crowd toward the refreshment room. No more was said until they reached the spot; then Will seated her at one of the most secluded tables, placing himself upon the opposite side.
“Lord love yer, Sarah Ann, jes’ see that couple!” said Mrs. Davis to Mrs. White. “Ef that ain’t a match then no matter! See him look at her! I’se goin’ to wait on them myself; an’ Sarah Ann, you keep these young squirts busy in some other corner; there ain’t nobody goin’ ter spile sport ef I can help it.”
Mrs. Davis bustled over to the young people and literally beamed upon them. “Good evening; now Mr. Smith, what be you an’ Miss Sappho goin’ to have? You see I’ve jes’ camed over to wait on yer myself.”
“Good evening,
