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Negro Tales Part 12

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Sickness and death determined negro society in Lockburg. All visited the sick. All attended the funeral. Why should not all attend all other functions? All answered the question for themselves, and attended regularly.

A score of men and women were chatting in Sister Renfro's bedroom when the preacher peeped in at the door and paused long enough to say: "Come out to 'sifting meeting' to-night. Spread the news."

"Will Jiles be there with his lantern?" asked Neal Grafton, a friend of Jiles.

"Never mind about that," answered Sister Renfro. "Say what you please about him, but he's a preaching man."

Sister Renfro's guests soon began to spread the news. Neal Grafton was the most active of all. He stood where he could command four corners.

"Sister Polly," he called to a rather corpulent woman who was pa.s.sing with a heavy bundle of clothes on her head, "stop a minute--'sifting meeting' to-night!"

"What you say, Brother Grafton? Come here! You knows I can't hear like I used to. I caught cold from shouting at the big meeting five years ago.

Who could have kept sober feet? _That_ was a preaching man."

"I say, Sister Polly----"

"Now, stop, son. Let me get in hearing order." After wiping her face with her ap.r.o.n, she said: "Now go on, son."

"Sister Polly, there will be a 'sifting meeting'----"

"Hold, son! The bundle comes down over my ears. Raise it a little. A 'sifting meeting'? Where? Oh! at the church? Raise up the bundle again, son. Now hold it there. Now tell me about it."

"That's all, Sister Polly."

"No! No! It's been five years since we had one. You heard your mother tell about it, didn't you?"

"Yes, but----"

"I know you did; she was there. Sister Renfro was there. I was there. It was a glorious time."

"Yes, Sister Polly, but----"

"My head's just beginning to rest, son. Well, the negroes lied and lied, but one told the truth."

"May I put the bundle on the ground?"

"The clothes are clean, son. I'll head them again soon. That sister told the truth and her head fell. Hold a little longer."

"Oh, my arms, Sister Polly!"

"Hold till I raise up that woman's head. I'll listen afterward."

"After I take the bundle?" "No, son. Hand it here. 'Sifting meeting' at the church? I'll be there."

Sister Polly went on humming, and left Grafton rubbing his arms. He notified a number of others, at a distance.

Polly delivered the clothes and mentioned the "sifting meeting."

"What is such a meeting, Polly?" asked her employer.

"It's a meeting where you tell what you don't know and where people know what you don't tell. If you want more light, come to the meeting.

Good-by, I'm in a hurry," answered Polly. Her employer was content to hear from the meeting.

An hour before meeting time Sisters Polly and Renfro were ready. They had spent considerable time arranging their hair. Polly's hair was rolled around a saucer that belonged to her employer. Sister Renfro's was put into the same shape by means of the flounce of an old black dress.

Just then one might have seen forty or fifty people, moving in single file, led by one with a lantern. There were no lights in the town. It was customary for someone with a lantern to come along and gather up the church-goers. The leader to-night was Grafton. Sisters Polly and Renfro joined the procession in the rear. It moved silently on to the end of the little bridge, when Sister Renfro stumped her foot and fell. Sister Polly, in trying to a.s.sist her, fell also. Both had to return home, and were late in reaching the meeting. Grafton led the procession into the church.

The church was cold, and fairly well filled with smoke. The s.e.xton was rubbing his eyes. The preacher with closed eyes was tapping his foot and humming a hymn. Grafton suggested that the windows and doors be opened a few minutes, but the preacher demurred, saying that it was too cold. In consequence, the cloud-laden condition of the room was not altered. It is difficult to understand how the congregation remained in that smoky room two hours; but they did so.

The next day Neal Grafton reported the proceedings of the church to Jiles Brennen, and it took Jiles just six months to laugh "sifting meetings" out of the town and the community.

Sisters Polly and Renfro declared the preacher stopped the meeting to keep them from showing their new style of head-dress, and it took him a year to live down the accusation.

"Is your head well?"

"Not quite. Is yours?"

"Well it's doing better than it did after the other 'sifting meeting.'"

These remarks and others of like tone showed the nature of the meeting, and also served to divide the congregation.

And the teacher? He did not count, and never had a wish to.

THE STUMP OF A CIGAR

Stump of cigar, as I am, I have a history that is interwoven with that of human beings. When I was in the form of seed I was safely housed in a nice gla.s.s jar in a large seed store. For some reason or other I was given the best shelf in the show window.

One day a beautiful young lady came into the store and priced me.

"Why," said the clerk, "that is----"

"Never mind," said she, "what it is. I simply want to know the price."

He told her; she paid it, and bore me off gracefully.

"Ah," said I to myself, "I shall never again see the young man who comes every day and stops opposite the show-window." One windy day, as he stood in his usual place, a lady's hat came rolling along the pavement.

What immediately followed this will be told further on.

As I said before, the lady bore me off gracefully. It was night when she entered her well-lighted apartment. "She will examine me," thought I, "and sniff me. Then how I will wors.h.i.+p the tears that fall from her eyes."

However, I received no such attention as I had antic.i.p.ated, for the young lady simply placed me in the center of a large table, sounded a bell, and began to talk, as if addressing someone present.

"You were there, weren't you? You will take me at my word, will you?

Let's see. This is how it will go." She then walked to the middle of the floor and acted out a little play that will be given further on. As she finished, she turned to a young woman who was standing in the door and said harshly: "What do you want?"

"The bell sounded," replied the young woman.

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Negro Tales Part 12 summary

You're reading Negro Tales. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Joseph Seamon Cotter. Already has 603 views.

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