Southern Lights and Shadows Part 26

Wis.h.i.+ng to know what they were up to, I stole slyly to where I could overhear their proceedings. My old n.i.g.g.e.r, Barnaby--yonder he sits, and he can't deny it--was presiding, and the question before the meeting was, 'Which of the two candidates, Tom Bannister and Colonel Sommerton, shall we n.i.g.g.e.rs support? On this question there was some debate and difference of opinion, until old Bob Warmus arose and said, 'Mistah Pres'dent, dey's no use er talkin'; I likes Colonel Sommerton mighty well; he's a berry good man; dey's not a bit er n.i.g.g.ah in 'im. On t' odder han', Mistah Pres'dent, Mistah Tom Bannistah is er white man too, jes de same; but I kin say fo'

Mistah Bannistah 'at he's mo' like er n.i.g.g.ah an' any white man 'at I ebber seed afore!"'

Here the Colonel paused to wait for the shouting and the hat-throwing to subside. Meantime the face of old Barnaby was drawn into one indescribable pucker of amazement. He could not believe his eyes or his ears. Surely that was not Colonel Sommerton standing up there telling such an enormous falsehood on him! He shook his woolly head dolefully, and gnawed a little splinter that he had plucked from the stump.

"Of course, fellow-citizens," the Colonel went on, "that settled the matter, and the n.i.g.g.e.rs endorsed Tom Bannister unanimously by a rising vote!"

The yell that went up when the speaker, bowing profoundly, took his seat, made it seem certain that Bannister would be beaten; but when the ballot was taken it was found that he had been chosen by one vote majority.

Colonel Mobley Sommerton's face turned as white as his hair. The iron of defeat went home to his proud heart with terrible effect, and as he tried to rise, the features of the hundreds of countenances below him swam and blended confusedly in his vision. The sedentary bubbles on the knees of his trousers fluttered with sympathetic violence.

Tom Bannister was on his feet in a moment--it was an appealing look from Phyllis that inspired him--and once more his genial voice rang out clear and strong.

"Fellow-citizens," he said, "I have a motion to make. Hear me." He waved his right hand to command silence, then proceeded: "Mr. President, I withdraw my name from this convention, and move that the nomination of Colonel Mobley Sommerton be made unanimous by acclamation. I have no right to this nomination, and nothing, save a matter greater than life or death to me, could have induced me to steal it as I this day have done. Colonel Sommerton knows why I did it. He gave his word of honor that he would cease all objections to giving his daughter to me in marriage, and that furthermore he would deed Sommerton Place to us as a wedding present, if I beat him for the nomination. Mr. President and fellow-citizens, do you blame me for memorizing his speech? That magnificent speech meant to me the most beautiful wife in America, and the handsomest estate in this n.o.ble county."

If Tom Bannister had been boisterously applauded before this, it was as nothing beside the noise which followed when Colonel Mobley Sommerton was declared the unanimous nominee of the convention. Meantime, Phyllis had hurried to the carriage and been driven home: she dared not stay and let the crowd gaze at her after that bold confession of Tom's.

The cheering for the nominee was yet at its flood when Bannister leaped at Colonel Sommerton and grasped his hand. The old gentleman was flushed and smiling, as became a politician so wonderfully favored. It was a moment never to be forgotten by either of the men.

"I cordially congratulate you, Colonel Sommerton, on your nomination," said Tom, with great feeling, "and you may count on my hearty support."

"If I don't have to support you, and pay your office rent in the bargain, all the rest of my life, I miss my guess, you young scamp!" growled the Colonel, in a major key. "Be off with you!"

Tom moved away to let the Colonel's friends crowd up and shake hands with him; but the delighted youth could not withhold a Parthian shaft. As he retreated he said, "Oh, Colonel, don't bother about my support; Sommerton Plantation will be ample for that!"

"Hit do beat all thunder how dese white men syfoogles eroun' in politics,"

old Barnaby thought to himself. Then he rattled the coins in his two pockets. The contributions of Colonel Sommerton c.h.i.n.ked on the left, those of Tom Bannister and Phyllis rang on the right. "Blame this here ole chile's eyes," he went on, "but 'twar a close shabe! Seem lak I's kinder holdin' de balernce ob power. I use my inflooence fer bofe ob 'em--yah, yah, yah-r-r! an' hit did look lak I's gwine ter balernce fings up tell I 'lee' 'em bofe ter oncet right dar! Bofe of 'em got de nomination--yah, yah, yah-r-r! But I say 'rah fo' little Miss Phyllis! She de one 'at know how to pull de right string--yah, yah, yah-r-r!"

The wedding at Sommerton Place came on the Wednesday following the fall election. Besides the great number of guests and the striking beauty of the bride there was nothing notable in it, unless the song prepared by Barnaby for the occasion, and sung by him thereupon to a captivating banjo accompaniment, may be so distinguished. A stanza, the final one of that masterpiece, has been preserved. It may serve as an informal ending, a charcoal tail-piece, to our light but truthful little story.

"Stan' by yo' frien's and nebber mek trouble, An' so, ef yo's got any sense, Yo'll know hit's a good t'ing ter be sorter double, An' walk on bofe sides ob de fence!"

THE END