My Southern Home: Or, the South and Its People. William Wells Brown

my clothes?”

      “Well, massa,” said Ike, “I’m gwine to tell you God’s truth.”

      “That’s what I want, Ike,” remarked the master.

      “Now,” continued the negro, “I ware de clothes to de dance, kase you see, massa, I knowed dat you didn’t want your body servant to go to de ball looking poorer dressed den udder gentmen’s boys. So you see I had no clothes myself, so I takes yours. I had to knock the heel off de lame leg boot, so dat I could ware it. An’ den I took ‘ole Sorrel,’ kase he paces so fass an’ so easy. No udder hoss could get me to de city in time fer de ball, ceptin’ ‘ole Sorrel.’ You see, massa, ten miles is a good ways to go after you is gone to bed. Now, massa, I hope you’ll forgive me dis time, an’ I’ll never do so any moo.”

      During Ike’s telling his story, his master kept his eyes rivetted upon him, and at its conclusion said: “You first told me that you were at the prayer-meeting at the Corners; what did you do that for?”

      “Well, massa,” replied Ike, “I knowed dat I ought to had gone to de prar-meetin’, an’ dat’s de reason I said I was dar.”

      “And you’re a pretty Christian, going to a dance, instead of your prayer-meeting. This is the fifth time you’ve fallen from grace,” said the master.

      “Oh, no,” quickly responded Ike; “dis is only de fourf time dat I is back slid.”

      “But this is not the first time that you have taken my clothes and worn them. And there’s my watch, you could not tell the time, what did you want with that?” said the Doctor.

      “Yes, massa,” replied Ike, “I’ll tell de truth; I wore de clothes afore dis time, an’ I take de watch too, an’ I let it fall, an’ dat’s de reason it stop dat time. An’ I know I could not tell de time by de watch, but I guessed at it, an’ dat made de niggers star at me, to see me have a watch.”

      The announcement that Col. Lemmy was at the door cut short the further investigation of Ike’s case. The Colonel was the very opposite to Dr. Gaines, believing that there was no good in the negro, except to toil, and feeling that all religious efforts to better the condition of the race was time thrown away.

      The Colonel laughed heartily as the Doctor told how Ike had worn his clothes. He quickly inquired if the servant had been punished, and when informed that he had not, he said: “The lash is worth more than all the religion in the world. Your boy, Ike, with the rest of the niggers around here, will go to a prayer meetin’ and will tell how good they feel or how bad they feel, just as it may suit the case. They’ll cry, groan, clap their hands, pat their feet, worry themselves into a lather of sweat, sing,