The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on January 15, 1896 · Page 6
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 6

Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, January 15, 1896
Page 6
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It was a fine summer morning in one of the sDutherii counties of Virginia, and in front of her own little house sat Aunt Belinda Tinsloy, paring- potatoes. This worthy person was a colored woman, something under forty years of age, light brown in color and comely tolook upon. She was neatly dressed, and her surroundings, as well as the amiable and satisfied expression of her countenance, showed that her circumstances were comfortable. In her earlier days she had lived with white people and had been cook nnd laundress. Retiring from domestic service, she had married Dick Tinsley, an industrious and worthy blacksmith, who, about two years before this summer morning, had died, leaving his widow a small but well-built house of more pretentious design than any of the negro habitations in the neighborhood, a few acres of land, all paid for, and, as report had it, an income, although there was not unanimity in the neighborhood regarding the amount of this income, nor from what it was derived. But everybody knew that Aunt Belinda, as she was called by her older friends and acquaintances, or Mrs. Tinsley, as some colored people of progressive views now chose to designate her—was a person to be envied, because, so far as outsiders could determine, she had all she wanted. Aunt Belinda lived alone, and when she had pared four medium-sized potatoes she knew these were enough for a meal, but she was considering whether or not it would be well to boil some more which might be cut up and fried for supper, when, raising her eyes, she saw a man coming along the path which led to her house. At first she did not recognize him, but in a few minutes she saw that he was Moses Lipscomb, a man somewhat younger than herself and a little browner. She had known him all her life as a good- natured, jolly fellow, who, although, spasmodically industrious and able to perform surprising feats of labor at hog-lrilling time, or on other occasions when the work was suitably mixed with excitement, was in general, on account of his aversion to monotonous employment, as needy a man as ever strutted through a cake walk or twanged a banjo. This morning, as has been said, Aunt Belinda did not at first recognize him. Ordinarily he dressed in garments quite Sl>l rfari IB 0ft tfif 1894 I yaller wesh, wot was ole Kunnel West* erman's, nu' wot 1 done wash an* iron till de ole kunnel die. Dem breeches is yous, an' I 'spccts dcin shoes an' dat 'ar shirt an 1 neck hank'chef, but you take off all de res' of dein tings 'fore yer says anudder word." Without hesitation Moses divested himself of hat, coat and Waistcoat and laid them down on the grass by the path. "J.-4 dein dar golt cuff buttons you's?" asked Aunt Belinda, severely "No, dcy hain't," said Moses, "dey's Buck Simmonses." "Take deui off I" said Aunt Belinda. "Now den," she continued, when her orders had beeu obeyed, "you looks like Moses Lipscomb, on'y cleaner, which ain't no fault. You kin sot youse'f down on dc grass dar an' say wot you's come ter say," and she seated herself in her chair. With a grin, Moses sat down on the grass and embraced his knees with his arms. "1 hain't got nuthin' ter say, Aunt B'linda, 'cept wot I said afore. I done come pay 'tentions to youse'f wid a view to matermony." "Wot yer got ter 'sport a wife wid, Moses Lipscomb?" she asked. "Hain't got nuthin'," answered Moses, his white teeth shining like a rift of light in a cloudy sky. "Bress my soul, Aunt B'linda, ef cv'ry colored man in dis county wait 'til he kin 'sport a wife afore he marry her, whar all dc marryin" be?" To this Aunt Belinda made no reply, but sat gazing, not at her suitor, but over the fields toward the east. Presently she spoke: "You Moses, you git off dat grass an' take away dem clothes an' den come back 'arter supper dis evenin' for yo' ahnser. Now git along mighty quick. I hain't got no time to fool wid yer now." Moses was well acquainted with Aunt Belinda's decision of character, and without making any remonstrances he gathered up the discarded clothes, bade her good morning and departed. Aunt Belinda watcked him until he disappeared behind a bit of woodland to the west and then she turned her gaze toward a field in the opposite direction. She had seen, before Moses left, another man approaching through this field. The newcomer was tall and rather spare of figure, and advanced with long strides, which soon brought him to the " 'T AIN'T SAID AUNT BELINDA, ''IT'S A KEOW.' simple and ringed, but now he was attired in grand style. On his head waa a high, black silk hat, somwhat bat- .tered and rusty, with a broad band of crape around it; he wore a yellow •waistcoat, much too large for him, and a blue coat with tarnished brass buttons, some of them missing, which was so small for him that he waa obliged to throw out his chest very much to keep his shoulders back in order tehat he might not split it along its spinal seam. His trousers were of brown linen, clean and very much starched, with the bottom of the legs frayed and worn in such a way that the starched threads hung over his well-blackened boots like icicles over ' the mouth of a cavern. His collar was high and evidently unpleasant to his jaws. His large cravat had once been all crimson, but portions of it had now faded into brown, and from the outside pocket of his coat projected the corner of a white silk handkerchief. As the visitor approached he took off his hat, but before he could speaU Aunt Belinda sprang to her feet. q«»you, Moses Lipscomb!" she cried. "Wot yon mean, comin 1 hyar rigged up like dat? Has you got the ira- perence to come hyar for de purpos' to pay 'tentions to me?" ; A broad smile spread over the visage of the jolly Moses. "Pat's it, 'zactly, Aunt B'Hnda," said he. "I waskun* jurin' wh^t to say to begin wid, an' da> you plumps right TO, an' I hain't got no trouble at all. I done come byar, Mnt p'linda. to pay 'tentions to ycmse'f wid a view to matermony." Aunt Belinda sat for a few moments fiUently gazing at her visitor and then broke out: "If ever I see a hedge- in a. beaver skin, I'se lookin 1 at pne Jiow. What you mean, playin' dem fool tricks on me? Now, you Moses, you take pff 4at cph't, wot b'longs to old Pete, an' was guv him by hi wore'n forty years ago wot Uncle Pete rents out fer ten ter any colored map jo dis county waits ter go a-co'rtin'. Don't yer I knows dat coii't? IJajot J jaepded Jt jnore'n twenty toes* an 6§w <J»^ Jittle bit o' w'jte silk de top of 4,e pocket? An' take house. He was very well dressed, but not after the fashion of Moses. His hat was high, but it bore no untimely crape; his clothes were black, and fitted him very well; his cravat was white, and in his hand he carried a cane with a silver head. "Mornin 1 , Sister Tinsley," said he; "I hopes I sees yer well?" "Mornin', Brudder Aaron," said Aunt "Belinda; "ef yous got time ter stop, sot youse'f down hyar, and I'll fotch an- udder cheer." He lifted his hand deprecatingly. 1 'Never, Sister Tinsley, never you wait on me. Dat's my part; I waits on you," and briskly stepping inside he brought out a chair. The newcomer sat down, put his hat on the grass and his cane beside it, and then, leaning slightly forward, clasped his two long black hands between his knees. He was many shades darker than Aunt Belinda, and several years older. His face was long, and rather tWn. After a few remarks about the \fe$ther-and the "craps" he proceeded to business. "Sister Tinsley," said he, "I knows you is a woman wot ain't got no time to waste, an' I'se a roan wid dutie wot yer dxmo bor- Abu Binder. «xi" CU* duties an' 'sponsibilities. Now, J comes to de pi'nt widout no scrapin' an' prancin', and I comes here, Sister Tinsley, to ask youse'f ter combjpe wjd me in de wows o' wedlock) in udder words, Sister Tinsley,,,! asks yon,to mairy' me. It's, a long time.eejipe you was a wid* der, Sisteu Tjjjsleys agd.' double says 'taiu't right fer a man.'nor'a woman, to live 'lone, 'specially in a bouse like dis, wid no udder bouse nearder dan a quarter mile. Now, you kin see for youse'f, Sister Tinsley, dat a man like me, wot's lived in de city an' waited at a hotel an' as—" "Dat's so," said Aunt'Belinda; *"cuse pae fer interruptin' you, Brudder Aaron, bnt you is mistook 'bout me an' de Bible, Pe holy book don' say nuf- fjn' 'pout women livin' 'lone, only men, an' wot does I want wid anudder bus» ban'? Par never was a better man dan Pick Tinsley, an' be was an awful trial- ??QW wot's de good of my bavin' anudder man hftngin' round hyar? I'es " an' I reckons I'sp got "TsiWta hasten'," ilatd Attftt fteiimla. "it's ft keow." "A keow!"e*elaimed Aaron", twisting himself toward her as he spoke. lie had not looked at her during his for> mcr remarks, directing his quickly- moving eyes over the distant landscape, but now he looked squarely at her, honestly surprised. "Yes," said Aunt Belinda, "wot I wants is a keow. I'se bin a long thno widout one an' 1 don' wan' to be wid- out one no lotiger; so ef 1 was ever to git anudder husban' I'd git one as would lust gttv hie a keow. 1 don' wall' no husban'j bnt ef 1 cahn't git a keow widout no husban' I'll take him along wid de keow. Dat's de way it ptan's, Brudder Aaron." With his face a little longer than before Aaron resumed his survey of the landscape. ''Wot kin' o' keow you wants, Sister Tinsley?" he asked. "I don't keer'bout de kin' nor de breed," said Belinda, "so's she's tol* 'ble fresh an* giv 'bout three gallon o 1 milk. Don' wan's no scrawny gallon- keow wid no more butter In de milk dan a bucket o' w'itewash. Das you got a keow, Brudder Aaron?" Aaron folded his arms, knitted his brows and turned his glance upon the ground. "When you wan's yer keow?" said he. "Soon's I kin git her," answered Belinda. 'Tse bin a long time widout one, an' I wants ter have some buttermilk dis week." Suddenly a light flashed into the countenance of the contemplative Aaron and he looked up. "Did you ever see my littl' place over th''udder side of de crik, Sister Tinsley?" The widow shook her head. Aaron looked satisfied. "Well, den," said he, "I'se got some keows dar, two good keows, one Ald'ney an' one brack an' w'ite. Cahn't say much for de Ald'uey; she ain't fresh. Would a fust- rate brack an' white keow suit yer, Sister Tinsley?" "Dat 'd suit mo tip top," answered Belinda. "When kin yer fotch her?" "Fotch her enny time," said he; "de sooner de better. Fotch her ter-day." "All right, Brudder Aaron," said she. "you come 'long wid yer keow dis evenin' 'fore supper; min' dat,-'fore supper, 'cas I wants demilk." After a few remarks about his intentions and the propriety of the conjugal plan he proposed Aaron departed, asserting that he must lose no time, for the little place he owned was three or four miles away. Aunt -Belinda smiled .to herself when he left. "De place you ownsi" she said, aloud. "I reckons all de Ian' you owns could be got inter a flower pot." It was nearly sunset, when, looking toward the road that ran at the bottom of the little hill on which her house stood, Belinda saw the tall form of Aaron, driving a black and white cow before him. He had discarded his high silk hat for a straw one, but otherwise he was attired as in the morning. "Now, denl" he exclaimed, ten minutes afterward, "wot yer tink of dat keow, Sister Tinsley? Dat's a'mon- strous fin' keow wot I fetches yer." Aunt Belinda looked approvingly at the animal. "Hotv much milk do she guv?" she asked. " 'Bout three gallon, 'jes'like cream." "Whar you buy her, Brudder Aaron?" "Didn" buy her," he answered. "I done raise her. Had dat keow when she were a littl' cah'f. Lernme go put her in de shed. Den we kin talk more 'bout de bisness of de mornin'." '"S'pose you milks her fust, Bruddei Aaron, I'll go fotch a pail. It's 'bout milkiu' time, an' I wants ter tas' her milk." Involuntarily Aaron glanced up and down the road, and then he said: "Dunno 'bout milkin' in my bes 1 breeches, Sister Tinsley." "Oh, you kin be keerful," said she, "an 1 I wants ter tas' her milk," and she went into the house for a pail. Aaron was not a very rapid milker, but in . the course of time he finished and brought the pail to Belinda. "Dat's not much milk," said she; "looks like yer keow done guv mos' her milk in de mornin'." "Dat's so," said Aaron, "jes' wait 'til mornin' and yer sees de milk." "All right," said Aunt Belinda, "you kin tuck her to do shed an" tie her up," When Aaron came back he wanted to sit down and talk matrimony, but Belinda would have none of it. "I'se busy now," said she, "I'se got ter iron Ca^t. Camp's shirts. You come in de mornin', Brudder Aaron, arter breakfas' an 1 den I'll talk bisness." "Got one job o' milkin' out of yer, anyway," said she to herself as he departed. When Aaron was .entirely out of sight Aunt Belinda took the cow from the shed and led her down to the old field and left her near the fence which ran by the road side, where there was some grass growing in among the bushes in the fence corners, Very soon Moses Jjipscomb appeared upon the scene, dressed in bis ordinary clothes, tarnished, torn and easy of fit, He was, very warm and very much e»- Llpscbmb'. t hain't g-6l fid time Id bfi talkin' how, t'se got ter finish ironin' Capt. Camp's shifts, lor he wants dem ter-morrer tnornin* 'fore breakfas*. So git 'long, Moses, an' ef you conies ter-morrer arly an' tells me ef you kin guv me a keow or ef yer cahtt't I'll guv yer yer ahnser. Go long now," and she went into the house and left him. Fof- a few moments Moses stood as if he had just been sentenced to the county prison. ' "Keowr'snid he to himself, "fef she'd asked me to guv lief de hancll* of a milk pail I hain't got ndne," and then, turn-' ing, he walked mournfully ivway. When Aunt Belinda opened her door the next morning and looked out upott the dew4>esprinkled landscape* spark* ling under the first rays of the morning sun, she saw Moses Lipscomb standing in front of the house. His hands Were in his pockets, hio soft old hat Was stuck on the side of his head and neat 1 "L.QQU ar down ' . B.'ij#da," said star' •brag'gin 1 dat helwasgoin' ter marry "KEOWl" HE EJACULATED. him was a black and white cow, contentedly nibbling the short grass. "Mornin,' Aunt B'linda," shouted Moses, "hyar I is an' dar she. Don' say I don' guv yer no keowl Dars a monstrous fin' animal an' I fotch her to yer an' I guve her ter yer. Now wot you say ter dat, Aunt B'linda?" Aunt Belinda put 'her hands on her hips and threw a severe expression into her face "Dat's a mighty fin'keow," said she, "but look hyar, Moses Lipscomb, whar you git- dat keow? You knows you hain't got no keow, and you knows yer never saved money 'nough outer yer wages, when yer gits eny, ter buy de hide of a keow, let 'lone a hull one. Now den, you stan' up straight 'fore me an' tell me whar you git yer." Moses stood up before her and looked her straight in the f^ce. "Aunt B'linda," said he, "I done stole dat keow." "Stole herl" cried Aunt Belinda, "and fotch her to me!" "Dat's'zactly wot I done," said he. "You knows jes' as well as I does I hain't got no keow an' cotildn' never buy one, an' when I knows I can't have yer, Aunt B'linda, widout I gits a keow, I'se boun' ter git a keow, an' says I ter myself: 'Moses Lipscomb, ef you kin tote a three hundred poun' hog, cf yer tries ter, yer kin git a keOwef yer tries ter.' But bress my soul, Aunt B'linda, I hain't no need ter try, 'cos when I was agoin' home yes'- day evenin' de fus' ting I see when I gits down to de road was dat brack an' w'ite keow eatin"'grass by de fence in de ole field. Lor! How I jumps when I see her. Says I: 'Moses, de good angel Gabriel sen* you dat keow. Dat keow don' b'long 'bout hyar an' I reckon she b'long to dat druv wot wen' through hyar t'other day, an' she done git los' in de bushes an' was luf b'hin'.' So I jes'gits over de fence an' I sits down on de grass near by her un' I watch her all night, an' arly dis morn- in' I druv her up hyar. I'se bin waitjn' inore'n two hours when yer come out, Aunt B'linda, an* ef yer keeps her in de shed dat ar driver won' fin' her" when he comes back, wot he cahn't do an' leave de res' of de cattl'." "You done stole her!" repeated Aunt Belinda. "Yes, I done jes' dat," replied Moses, "an 1 wot's more, I'd stole forty keows rather dan not git you fer a wife, Aunt B'linda." "Moses Lipscomb," said she after a slight pause, "you is wot I calls a one- sin man, Yous done gone an' stole dat keow, but dar you stops, You don' come ter me an' tell no lies 'bout it. Now dar's dat long-legged Aaron, be done stole a keow an' fotcb her ter me an' tell me a bucketful of lies 'bout her. I'se lived long 'nougb ter know. dat I cahn't git no husban', 'specially in dis part ob de county, widout no sin at all, an' so I'se bonn' ter take de one wot's got de leas' an' I reckon dar aint Bobody round hyar • wot's got less dan one, an" so, Moses, I'll take yon. An' now I'll guv yon de milk pail an* you milk dat keow, 'cos tain't fair ter de pore dumb creetur ter let her go not milked, an' den you tuck her whar you fig' '• her an' leave her da!r, When you donp'$at yer, Ida opme.biteU an' hare *d& VWnmefr'.'W-^WmAW, jfl» •bw%^"^,^T^ v ;^r^?»:.' ::>.'i>*4 , ff fto 'long wid $&l* sfidttte'd Aunt Belinda. "How^ei 1 dafe&»ne'h£af yer lies an' yef thieveries? I seen „ yes'day mornin' comin 1 over de field! i Seen yer stop an' look at dat brack an' w'ite keow, an' f kndwed you knotted dat keow didn' long in dis hyar neighborhood, an* I jes' thuflk ter myself I'd ask dat long-legged Aaron ter guv me a keow an' see Wot he do. Den yef done stole dat brack ian 4 w'ite keow an' fotch her ter me an' tell me lot o' lies 'bout raisin* her 1 from a littl' tiah'fl Now let me tell yer, you Aaron, dat brack an' to'ite kebtv is my keow. fray 'for yeVday i bought her outer a drtiV of cattl' an' paid fer her wid money W&t 1 done save from Washin' att' ifoniti', an* t put her in dat field, an' nobody 'bout hyar done know t'se got dat keow. An' you done stole my own keow an' eome hyar wid a pack o' lies an* ask me ter Marry yef on 'count of yer guvitt' her ter me—-iny own keowl" "Mis' Tinsley, said Aaron, drawing himself up, "de langwidge yoti's usin' ter me is 'fenslve ter my miilY Ef you's de kin' o' woman wot uses sicli iattgwidge I don't Want no wedlock wid yer, an' I don' want ter hyaf no more fool talk 'beout yef buyin' dat keow. I'se too ole fer any sech tales as dat. Jes' you guv me back my Ifeow an' I retires from dis controwersy. An' look hyaf, Miss Tinsley, ef yer don' guv her back I'll have yef 'rested for 'tainin' keows on false per tenses." At this moment a sudden noise was heard inside the houso, a stool was tumbled over the floor, a table was pushed roughly to one side, there was a quick stamping of feet and in an In* stant Moses Lipscomb, his eyes glaring and his head lowered like a bull ready to charge a matador, appeared in the doorway. "Git, you, Aaron!" cried Aunt Belinda. The injunction was not needed. The long-legged suitor gave one glance at the doorway. This was not the first time he had seen Moses.Lipscomb with his head down and his eyes glaring, and without hesitating he turned and fled, with Moses after him, roaring like an infuriated king of the herd. Aaron's legs were very long; his silk hat fell off, and he did not stop to pick it up, and his fright and his strides were so great that he soon left his pursuer far behind. Moses stopped 'and, giving the hat a kick that would have done credit to a college football man, and, shaking his fist after his flying foe, he shouted: "Ef ever I kotch you, you daddy- long-legs, I'll butt yer low an' I'll kick yer high, 'til yer nearer knows de dif- frence twixtde earf an'de sky! Comin 1 ' *~ 'i. T ••WV' Guarantee goes with them. Time Trouble Ask for Peninsular and lake no other* THE Minneapolis & Bt, Louis R, R, Co, A NEW TRAIN TO ST. PAUL AND MIN N E A P O L I S. IT 1 S A H U M M E R 1 LOOK OUT FOR IT I THROUGH CARS. PU L LM A MS & COACHES. GREAT I, The previous complete service will not bo disturbed by the addition of this train. Ask your nearest M. & St, L. B, 11. ticket agent 'for rates and particulars. A. B. CUTTS, Qen'l Ticket & Pass, Agt. Kiilneykura A Specific For Rheumatism & Kidney Diseases. you, AARON!" hyar an' talkin' .ten my B'linda'bout 'restin' her fer fal&o pertenses an' a keow!" When Moses returned he found Aunt Belinda seated in a chair, laughing until the tears ran down her cheeks. "He make me crack my sides!" she exclaimed, "I jes' say ter him: 'Git!' an' he more'n got!" Moses sat down on the grass, wiping his face with the corner of a torn shirt sleeve. "Was all dat de true fac'," he said, "wot you done say 'bout buyin' dat keow an' her bein' yer keow all de time?" "Tme as Gospel," said she, "I kin show yer de 'ceipt wot I made de driver guv me 'fore I paid him. Wouldn' trus' no stranger like him wot might come back hyar sayin' he done los' a keow in Perkins' ole fields." "Den, B'linda," said Moses,"! reckons I'se a no sin man, 'cos ef I done guv back de keow wot I stole to de pusson wot I stole her from, den I'se all right." "Go 'long, you Moses," cried she, "I hain't got no time ter talk sich fool talk wid yer. I'se got ter iron Capt. Camp's shirts an' tuck 'era down ter him, an 1 you go git me some good light wood fer ter he't de irons wid, and when yon done dat I'll guv yer ten 9ents ter pay pore Uncle Pete fer de hire of dat coh't wot you comes hyar wid ter pay 'ten> tions ter me wid a view termatermgny, I knows you hain't got no money ter pay him wid, an' ef we's ter be married we's got ter start eqnar." a;i ..-„.-.„, .,,,.. ev'ryting; in dls wort' dat I wants, '<*?< wetiug-" - da,t it was all fixed an' tied, ,Wot dat mean, 4nnt Belinda?" "Pat mean be lie," said Aupt Beli»t da, quietly, "nuthin', 'sprisin' 'bpi^t dat," Moses' face brightened- "Pen how "bout me, Aunt Belinda,? Gwine ter take me? Yer sjays you guv me my ahnser ef I eomes arter sapper." "Tftin't SQ easy, Moses," replied Belinda, speakjn^ peiJitatJY^yi of tings to, be tbwnb 'bout- K;iv one tipg, I wants ft keow w* ef a busb^n' comes 'Joflig wot kin gxy me ^ Jteow, wot de. gpo4 of my ope wpt eabn't? Kin yew p v Q0u8i$epajice o,f her ... hp _. It . Moses was still eating bis bacon and dipping bis porn bread 'into, the melted and bubbling fat wbe_n Attnt Belinda, jooking out of her window, saw the long-legged. Aaron striding over the field, H<? was dje&sed w on the day before except that be wore a {» his buttonhole, As Aunt Belinda liked to conferences outside of tbs bouse, wherg there W& 8 - raani to t&lfe, she jo, receive Mw. 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