initial commit of ebook 17864HEAD main

author: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:52:02 -0700
committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:52:02 -0700
commit: 09c6f19015444eccac49209672228c5c64ec8f8b (patch)
tree: 69a7c1cd456503143b707f19911047613ebd8f4e /17864-h
9 files changed, 2591 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/17864-h/17864-h.htm b/17864-h/17864-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9db2aca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/17864-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,2591 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Memories Of Childhood's Slavery Days, by Annie L. Burton.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+a[name] {position:absolute;}
+
+    a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none}
+              link {color:#0000ff;
+                                text-decoration:none}
+              a:visited {color:#0000ff;
+                              text-decoration:none}
+              a:hover {color:#ff0000}
+
+     table { width:80%; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black;     border: solid black 1px;}
+ .tocch    { text-align: right; vertical-align: top;}
+    .tocpg   {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
+    .poem .stanza     {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+    .poem span.i0     {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+.poem span.i1     {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+	.poem span.i3     {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i4     {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+.poem span.i5     {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+	.poem span.i6     {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+	.poem span.i7     {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+	.poem span.i8     {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+	.poem span.i9     {display: block; margin-left: 9em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+.poem span.i10     {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i3     {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+
+
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Memories of Childhood's Slavery Days, by Annie L. Burton
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Memories of Childhood's Slavery Days
+
+Author: Annie L. Burton
+
+Release Date: February 26, 2006 [EBook #17864]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILDHOOD'S SLAVERY DAYS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note: </p>
+<p class="center">The table of contents is not a part of the original book.</p></div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_01.jpg" alt="Annie L. Burton" width="400" height="556" /></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_02.jpg" alt="Cover" width="500" height="819" /></p>
+<h1>Memories of Childhood's<br />
+  Slavery Days</h1>
+  <p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>By</h3>
+
+
+<h2>Annie L. Burton</h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_05.jpg" alt="Seal" width="50" height="36" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h4 >BOSTON</h4>
+<h3 >ROSS PUBLISHING COMPANY</h3>
+<h3 >1909</h3>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td ><a href="#RECOLLECTIONS_OF_A_HAPPY_LIFE"><b>RECOLLECTIONS OF A HAPPY LIFE</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#REMINISCENCES"><b>REMINISCENCES</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#A_VISION"><b>A VISION</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#ABRAHAM_LINCOLN"><b>ABRAHAM LINCOLN</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#The_Race_Question_in_America"><b>THE RACE QUESTION IN AMERICA</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#HISTORICAL_COMPOSITION"><b>HISTORICAL COMPOSITION</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr><td ><a href="#MY_FAVORITE_POEMS"><b>MY FAVORITE POEMS</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr><td ><a href="#MY_FAVORITE_HYMNS"><b>MY FAVORITE HYMNS</b></a></td>
+  <td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="RECOLLECTIONS_OF_A_HAPPY_LIFE" id="RECOLLECTIONS_OF_A_HAPPY_LIFE"></a>RECOLLECTIONS OF A HAPPY LIFE</h2>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>The memory of my happy, care-free childhood days on the plantation,
+  with my little white and black companions, is often with me. Neither
+  master nor mistress nor neighbors had time to bestow a thought upon
+  us, for the great Civil War was raging. That great event in American
+  history was a matter wholly outside the realm of our childish
+  interests. Of course we heard our elders discuss the various events of
+  the great struggle, but it meant nothing to us.</p>
+<p>On the plantation there were ten white children and fourteen colored
+children. Our days were spent roaming about from plantation to
+plantation, not knowing or caring what things were going on in the
+great world outside our little realm. Planting time and harvest time
+were happy days for us. How often at the harvest time the planters
+discovered cornstalks missing from the ends of the rows, and blamed
+the crows! We were called the "little fairy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> devils." To the sweet
+potatoes and peanuts and sugar cane we also helped ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Those slaves that were not married served the food from the great
+house, and about half-past eleven they would send the older children
+with food to the workers in the fields. Of course, I followed, and
+before we got to the fields, we had eaten the food nearly all up. When
+the workers returned home they complained, and we were whipped.</p>
+
+<p>The slaves got their allowance every Monday night of molasses, meat,
+corn meal, and a kind of flour called "dredgings" or "shorts." Perhaps
+this allowance would be gone before the next Monday night, in which
+case the slaves would steal hogs and chickens. Then would come the
+whipping-post. Master himself never whipped his slaves; this was left
+to the overseer.</p>
+
+<p>We children had no supper, and only a little piece of bread or
+something of the kind in the morning. Our dishes consisted of one
+wooden bowl, and oyster shells were our spoons. This bowl served for
+about fifteen children, and often the dogs and the ducks and the
+peafowl had a dip in it. Sometimes we had buttermilk and bread in our
+bowl, sometimes greens or bones.</p>
+
+<p>Our clothes were little homespun cotton slips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> with short sleeves. I
+never knew what shoes were until I got big enough to earn them myself.</p>
+
+<p>If a slave man and woman wished to marry, a party would be arranged
+some Saturday night among the slaves. The marriage ceremony consisted
+of the pair jumping over a stick. If no children were born within a
+year or so, the wife was sold.</p>
+
+<p>At New Year's, if there was any debt or mortgage on the plantation,
+the extra slaves were taken to Clayton and sold at the court house. In
+this way families were separated.</p>
+
+<p>When they were getting recruits for the war, we were allowed to go to
+Clayton to see the soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>I remember, at the beginning of the war, two colored men were hung in
+Clayton; one, C&aelig;sar King, for killing a blood hound and biting off an
+overseer's ear; the other, Dabney Madison, for the murder of his
+master. Dabney Madison's master was really shot by a man named
+Houston, who was infatuated with Madison's mistress, and who had hired
+Madison to make the bullets for him. Houston escaped after the deed,
+and the blame fell on Dabney Madison, as he was the only slave of his
+master and mistress. The clothes of the two victims were hung on two
+pine trees, and no colored person would touch them. Since I have grown
+up, I have seen the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> skeleton of one of these men in the office of a
+doctor in Clayton.</p>
+
+<p>After the men were hung, the bones were put in an old deserted house.
+Somebody that cared for the bones used to put them in the sun in
+bright weather, and back in the house when it rained. Finally the
+bones disappeared, although the boxes that had contained them still
+remained.</p>
+
+<p>At one time, when they were building barns on the plantation, one of
+the big boys got a little brandy and gave us children all a drink,
+enough to make us drunk. Four doctors were sent for, but nobody could
+tell what was the matter with us, except they thought we had eaten
+something poisonous. They wanted to give us some castor oil, but we
+refused to take it, because we thought that the oil was made from the
+bones of the dead men we had seen. Finally, we told about the big
+white boy giving us the brandy, and the mystery was cleared up.</p>
+
+<p>Young as I was then, I remember this conversation between master and
+mistress, on master's return from the gate one day, when he had
+received the latest news: "William, what is the news from the seat of
+war?" "A great battle was fought at Bull Run, and the Confederates
+won," he replied. "Oh, good, good," said mistress, "and what did Jeff
+Davis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> say?" "Look out for the blockade. I do not know what the end
+may be soon," he answered. "What does Jeff Davis mean by that?" she
+asked. "Sarah Anne, I don't know, unless he means that the niggers
+will be free." "O, my God, what shall we do?" "I presume," he said,
+"we shall have to put our boys to work and hire help." "But," she
+said, "what will the niggers do if they are free? Why, they will
+starve if we don't keep them." "Oh, well," he said, "let them wander,
+if they will not stay with their owners. I don't doubt that many
+owners have been good to their slaves, and they would rather remain
+with their owners than wander about without home or country."</p>
+
+<p>My mistress often told me that my father was a planter who owned a
+plantation about two miles from ours. He was a white man, born in
+Liverpool, England. He died in Lewisville, Alabama, in the year 1875.</p>
+
+<p>I will venture to say that I only saw my father a dozen times, when I
+was about four years old; and those times I saw him only from a
+distance, as he was driving by the great house of our plantation.
+Whenever my mistress saw him going by, she would take me by the hand
+and run out upon the piazza, and exclaim, "Stop there, I say! Don't
+you want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> to see and speak to and caress your darling child? She often
+speaks of you and wants to embrace her dear father. See what a bright
+and beautiful daughter she is, a perfect picture of yourself. Well, I
+declare, you are an affectionate father." I well remember that
+whenever my mistress would speak thus and upbraid him, he would whip
+up his horse and get out of sight and hearing as quickly as possible.
+My mistress's action was, of course, intended to humble and shame my
+father. I never spoke to him, and cannot remember that he ever noticed
+me, or in any way acknowledged me to be his child.</p>
+
+<p>My mother and my mistress were children together, and grew up to be
+mothers together. My mother was the cook in my mistress's household.
+One morning when master had gone to Eufaula, my mother and my mistress
+got into an argument, the consequence of which was that my mother was
+whipped, for the first time in her life. Whereupon, my mother refused
+to do any more work, and ran away from the plantation. For three years
+we did not see her again.</p>
+
+<p>Our plantation was one of several thousand acres, comprising large
+level fields, upland, and considerable forests of Southern pine.
+Cotton, corn, sweet potatoes, sugar cane, wheat, and rye were the
+prin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>cipal crops raised on the plantation. It was situated near the
+P&mdash;&mdash; River, and about twenty-three miles from Clayton, Ala.</p>
+
+<p>One day my master heard that the Yankees were coming our way, and he
+immediately made preparations to get his goods and valuables out of
+their reach. The big six-mule team was brought to the smoke-house
+door, and loaded with hams and provisions. After being loaded, the
+team was put in the care of two of the most trustworthy and valuable
+slaves that my master owned, and driven away. It was master's
+intention to have these things taken to a swamp, and there concealed
+in a pit that had recently been made for the purpose. But just before
+the team left the main road for the by-road that led to the swamp, the
+two slaves were surprised by the Yankees, who at once took possession
+of the provisions, and started the team toward Clayton, where the
+Yankees had headquarters. The road to Clayton ran past our plantation.
+One of the slave children happened to look up the road, and saw the
+Yankees coming, and gave warning. Whereupon, my master left
+unceremoniously for the woods, and remained concealed there for five
+days. The niggers had run away whenever they got a chance, but now it
+was master's and the other white folks' turn to run.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Yankees rode up to the piazza of the great house and inquired who
+owned the plantation. They gave orders that nothing must be touched or
+taken away, as they intended to return shortly and take possession. My
+mistress and the slaves watched for their return day and night for
+more than a week, but the Yankees did not come back.</p>
+
+<p>One morning in April, 1865, my master got the news that the Yankees
+had left Mobile Bay and crossed the Confederate lines, and that the
+Emancipation Proclamation had been signed by President Lincoln.
+Mistress suggested that the slaves should not be told of their
+freedom; but master said he would tell them, because they would soon
+find it out, even if he did not tell them. Mistress, however, said she
+could keep my mother's three children, for my mother had now been gone
+so long.</p>
+
+<p>All the slaves left the plantation upon the news of their freedom,
+except those who were feeble or sickly. With the help of these, the
+crops were gathered. My mistress and her daughters had to go to the
+kitchen and to the washtub. My little half-brother, Henry, and myself
+had to gather chips, and help all we could. My sister, Caroline, who
+was twelve years old, could help in the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>After the war, the Yankees took all the good mules<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> and horses from
+the plantation, and left their old army stock. We children chanced to
+come across one of the Yankees' old horses, that had "U. S." branded
+on him. We called him "Old Yank" and got him fattened up. One day in
+August, six of us children took "Old Yank" and went away back on the
+plantation for watermelons. Coming home, we thought we would make the
+old horse trot. When "Old Yank" commenced to trot, our big melons
+dropped off, but we couldn't stop the horse for some time. Finally,
+one of the big boys went back and got some more melons, and left us
+eating what we could find of the ones that had been dropped. Then all
+we six, with our melons, got on "Old Yank" and went home. We also used
+to hitch "Old Yank" into a wagon and get wood. But one sad day in the
+fall, the Yankees came back again, and gathered up their old stock,
+and took "Old Yank" away.</p>
+
+<p>One day mistress sent me out to do some churning under a tree. I went
+to sleep and jerked the churn over on top of me, and consequently got
+a whipping.</p>
+
+<p>My mother came for us at the end of the year 1865, and demanded that
+her children be given up to her. This, mistress refused to do, and
+threatened to set the dogs on my mother if she did not at once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> leave
+the place. My mother went away, and remained with some of the
+neighbors until supper time. Then she got a boy to tell Caroline to
+come down to the fence. When she came, my mother told her to go back
+and get Henry and myself and bring us down to the gap in the fence as
+quick as she could. Then my mother took Henry in her arms, and my
+sister carried me on her back. We climbed fences and crossed fields,
+and after several hours came to a little hut which my mother had
+secured on a plantation. We had no more than reached the place, and
+made a little fire, when master's two sons rode up and demanded that
+the children be returned. My mother refused to give us up. Upon her
+offering to go with them to the Yankee headquarters to find out if it
+were really true that all negroes had been made free, the young men
+left, and troubled us no more.</p>
+
+<p>The cabin that was now our home was made of logs. It had one door, and
+an opening in one wall, with an inside shutter, was the only window.
+The door was fastened with a latch. Our beds were some straw.</p>
+
+<p>There were six in our little family; my mother, Caroline, Henry, two
+other children that my mother had brought with her upon her return,
+and myself.</p>
+
+<p>The man on whose plantation this cabin stood,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> hired my mother as
+cook, and gave us this little home. We children used to sell
+blueberries and plums that we picked. One day the man on whom we
+depended for our home and support, left. Then my mother did washing by
+the day, for whatever she could get. We were sent to get cold victuals
+from hotels and such places. A man wanting hands to pick cotton, my
+brother Henry and I were set to help in this work. We had to go to the
+cotton field very early every morning. For this work, we received
+forty cents for every hundred pounds of cotton we picked.</p>
+
+<p>Caroline was hired out to take care of a baby.</p>
+
+<p>In 1866, another man hired the plantation on which our hut stood, and
+we moved into Clayton, to a little house my mother secured there. A
+rich lady came to our house one day, looking for some one to take care
+of her little daughter. I was taken, and adopted into this family.
+This rich lady was Mrs. E. M. Williams, a music teacher, the wife of a
+lawyer. We called her "Mis' Mary."</p>
+
+<p>Some rich people in Clayton who had owned slaves, opened the Methodist
+church on Sundays, and began the work of teaching the negroes. My new
+mistress sent me to Sunday school every Sunday morning, and I soon got
+so that I could read. Mis' Mary taught me every day at her knee. I
+soon could read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> nicely, and went through Sterling's Second Reader,
+and then into McGuthrie's Third Reader. The first piece of poetry I
+recited in Sunday school was taught to me by Mis' Mary during the
+week. Mis' Mary's father-in-law, an ex-judge, of Clayton, Alabama,
+heard me recite it, and thought it was wonderful. It was this:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"I am glad to see you, little bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was your sweet song I heard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What was it I heard you say?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Give me crumbs to eat today?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here are crumbs I brought for you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eat your dinner, eat away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come and see us every day."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>After this Mis' Mary kept on with my studies, and taught me to write.
+As I grew older, she taught me to cook and how to do housework. During
+this time Mis' Mary had given my mother one dollar a month in return
+for my services; now as I grew up to young womanhood, I thought I
+would like a little money of my own. Accordingly, Mis' Mary began to
+pay me four dollars a month, besides giving me my board and clothes.
+For two summers she "let me out" while she was away, and I got five
+dollars a month.</p>
+
+<p>While I was with Mis' Mary, I had my first sweetheart, one of the
+young fellows who attended Sunday<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> school with me. Mis' Mary, however,
+objected to the young man's coming to the house to call, because she
+did not think I was old enough to have a sweetheart.</p>
+
+<p>I owe a great deal to Mis' Mary for her good training of me, in
+honesty, uprightness and truthfulness. She told me that when I went
+out into the world all white folks would not treat me as she had, but
+that I must not feel bad about it, but just do what I was employed to
+do, and if I wasn't satisfied, to go elsewhere; but always to carry an
+honest name.</p>
+
+<p>One Sunday when my sweetheart walked to the gate with me, Mis' Mary
+met him and told him she thought I was too young for him, and that she
+was sending me to Sunday school to learn, not to catch a beau. It was
+a long while before he could see me again,&mdash;not until later in the
+season, in watermelon time, when Mis' Mary and my mother gave me
+permission to go to a watermelon party one Sunday afternoon. Mis' Mary
+did not know, however, that my sweetheart had planned to escort me. We
+met around the corner of the house, and after the party he left me at
+the same place. After that I saw him occasionally at barbecues and
+parties. I was permitted to go with him some evenings to church, but
+my mother always walked ahead or behind me and the young man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We went together for four years. During that time, although I still
+called Mis' Mary's my home, I had been out to service in one or two
+families.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, my mother and Mis' Mary consented to our marriage, and the
+wedding day was to be in May. The winter before that May, I went to
+service in the family of Dr. Drury in Eufaula. Just a week before I
+left Clayton I dreamed that my sweetheart died suddenly. The night
+before I was to leave, we were invited out to tea. He told me he had
+bought a nice piece of poplar wood, with which to make a table for our
+new home. When I told him my dream, he said, "Don't let that trouble
+you, there is nothing in dreams." But one month from that day he died,
+and his coffin was made from the piece of poplar wood he had bought
+for the table.</p>
+
+<p>After his death, I remained in Clayton for two or three weeks with my
+people, and then went back to Eufaula, where I stayed two years.</p>
+
+<p>My sweetheart's death made a profound impression on me, and I began to
+pray as best I could. Often I remained all night on my knees.</p>
+
+<p>Going on an excursion to Macon, Georgia, one time, I liked the place
+so well that I did not go back to Eufaula. I got a place as cook in
+the family of an Episcopal clergyman, and remained with them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> eight
+years, leaving when the family moved to New Orleans.</p>
+
+<p>During these eight years, my mother died in Clayton, and I had to take
+the three smallest children into my care. My oldest sister was now
+married, and had a son.</p>
+
+<p>I now went to live with a Mrs. Maria Campbell, a colored woman, who
+adopted me and gave me her name. Mrs. Campbell did washing and ironing
+for her living. While living with her, I went six months to Lewis'
+High School in Macon. Then I went to Atlanta, and obtained a place as
+first-class cook with Mr. E. N. Inman. But I always considered Mrs.
+Campbell's my home. I remained about a year with Mr. Inman, and
+received as wages ten dollars a month.</p>
+
+<p>One day, when the family were visiting in Memphis, I chanced to pick
+up a newspaper, and read the advertisement of a Northern family for a
+cook to go to Boston. I went at once to the address given, and made
+agreement to take the place, but told the people that I could not
+leave my present position until Mr. Inman returned home. Mr. and Mrs.
+Inman did not want to let me go, but I made up my mind to go North.
+The Northern family whose service I was to enter had returned to
+Boston before I left, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> had made arrangements with a friend, Mr.
+Bullock, to see me safely started North.</p>
+
+<p>After deciding to go North, I went to Macon, to make arrangements with
+Mrs. Campbell for the care of my two sisters who lived with her. One
+sister was now about thirteen and the other fifteen, both old enough
+to do a little for themselves. My brother was dead. He went to
+Brunswick in 1875, and died there of the yellow fever in 1876. One
+sister I brought in later years to Boston. I stayed in Macon two
+weeks, and was in Atlanta three or four days before leaving for the
+North.</p>
+
+<p>About the 15th of June, 1879, I arrived at the Old Colony Station in
+Boston, and had my first glimpse of the country I had heard so much
+about. From Boston I went to Newtonville, where I was to work. The
+gentleman whose service I was to enter, Mr. E. N. Kimball, was waiting
+at the station for me, and drove me to his home on Warner Street. For
+a few days, until I got somewhat adjusted to my new circumstances, I
+had no work to do. On June 17th the family took me with them to
+Auburndale. But in spite of the kindness of Mrs. Kimball and the
+colored nurse, I grew very homesick for the South, and would often
+look in the direction of my old home and cry.</p>
+
+<p>The washing, a kind of work I knew nothing about,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> was given to me;
+but I could not do it, and it was finally given over to a hired woman.
+I had to do the ironing of the fancy clothing for Mrs. Kimball and the
+children.</p>
+
+<p>About five or six weeks after my arrival, Mrs. Kimball and the
+children went to the White Mountains for the summer, and I had more
+leisure. Mr. Kimball went up to the mountains every Saturday night, to
+stay with his family over Sunday; but he and his father-in-law were at
+home other nights, and I had to have dinner for them.</p>
+
+<p>To keep away the homesickness and loneliness as much as possible, I
+made acquaintance with the hired girl across the street.</p>
+
+<p>One morning I climbed up into the cherry tree that grew between Mr.
+Kimball's yard and the yard of his next-door neighbor, Mr. Roberts. I
+was thinking of the South, and as I picked the cherries, I sang a
+Southern song. Mr. Roberts heard me, and gave me a dollar for the
+song.</p>
+
+<p>By agreement, Mrs. Kimball was to give me three dollars and a half a
+week, instead of four, until the difference amounted to my fare from
+the South; after that, I was to have four dollars. I had, however,
+received but little money. In the fall, after the family came home, we
+had a little difficulty about my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> wages, and I left and came into
+Boston. One of my Macon acquaintances had come North before me, and
+now had a position as cook in a house on Columbus Avenue. I looked
+this girl up. Then I went to a lodging-house for colored people on
+Kendall Street, and spent one night there. Mrs. Kimball had refused to
+give me a recommendation, because she wanted me to stay with her, and
+thought the lack of a recommendation would be an inducement. In the
+lodging-house I made acquaintance with a colored girl, who took me to
+an intelligence office. The man at the desk said he would give me a
+card to take to 24 Springfield Street, on receipt of fifty cents. I
+had never heard of an office of this kind, and asked a good many
+questions. After being assured that my money would be returned in case
+I did not accept the situation, I paid the fifty cents and started to
+find the address on the card. Being ignorant of the scheme of street
+numbering, I inquired of a woman whom I met, where No. 24 was. This
+woman asked me if I was looking for work, and when I told her I was,
+she said a friend of hers on Springfield Street wanted a servant
+immediately. Of course I went with this lady, and after a conference
+with the mistress of the house as to my ability, when I could begin
+work, what wages I should want, etc.,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> I was engaged as cook at three
+dollars and a half a week.</p>
+
+<p>From this place I proceeded to 24 Springfield Street, as directed,
+hoping that I would be refused, so that I might go back to the
+intelligence office and get my fifty cents. The lady at No. 24 who
+wanted a servant, said she didn't think I was large and strong enough,
+and guessed I wouldn't do. Then I went and got my fifty cents.</p>
+
+<p>Having now obtained a situation, I sent to Mr. Kimball's for my trunk.
+I remained in my new place a year and a half. At the end of that time
+the family moved to Dorchester, and because I did not care to go out
+there, I left their service.</p>
+
+<p>From this place, I went to Narragansett Pier to work as a chambermaid
+for the summer. In the fall, I came back to Boston and obtained a
+situation with a family, in Berwick Park. This family afterward moved
+to Jamaica Plain, and I went with them. With this family I remained
+seven years. They were very kind to me, gave me two or three weeks'
+vacation, without loss of pay.</p>
+
+<p>In June, 1884, I went with them to their summer home in the Isles of
+Shoals, as housekeeper for some guests who were coming from Paris. On
+the 6th of July I received word that my sister Caroline had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> died in
+June. This was a great blow to me. I remained with the Reeds until
+they closed their summer home, but I was not able to do much work
+after the news of my sister's death.</p>
+
+<p>I wrote home to Georgia, to the white people who owned the house in
+which Caroline had lived, asking them to take care of her boy Lawrence
+until I should come in October. When we came back to Jamaica Plain in
+the fall, I was asked to decide what I should do in regard to this
+boy. Mrs. Reed wanted me to stay with her, and promised to help pay
+for the care of the boy in Georgia. Of course, she said, I could not
+expect to find positions if I had a child with me. As an inducement to
+remain in my present place and leave the boy in Georgia, I was
+promised provision for my future days, as long as I should live. It
+did not take me long to decide what I should do. The last time I had
+seen my sister, a little over a year before she died, she had said,
+when I was leaving, "I don't expect ever to see you again, but if I
+die I shall rest peacefully in my grave, because I know you will take
+care of my child."</p>
+
+<p>I left Jamaica Plain and took a room on Village Street for the two or
+three weeks until my departure for the South. During this time, a lady
+came to the house to hire a girl for her home in Wellesley Hills.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> The
+girl who was offered the place would not go. I volunteered to accept
+the position temporarily, and went at once to the beautiful farm. At
+the end of a week, a man and his wife had been engaged, and I was to
+leave the day after their arrival. These new servants, however, spoke
+very little English, and I had to stay through the next week until the
+new ones were broken in. After leaving there I started for Georgia,
+reaching there at the end of five days, at five o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>I took a carriage and drove at once to the house where Lawrence was
+being taken care of. He was playing in the yard, and when he saw me
+leave the carriage he ran and threw his arms around my neck and cried
+for joy. I stayed a week in this house, looking after such things of
+my sister's as had not been already stored. One day I had a headache,
+and was lying down in the cook's room. Lawrence was in the dining-room
+with the cook's little girl, and the two got into a quarrel, in the
+course of which my nephew struck the cook's child. The cook, in her
+anger, chased the boy with a broom, and threatened to give him a good
+whipping at all costs. Hearing the noise, I came out into the yard,
+and when Lawrence saw me he ran to me for protection. I interceded for
+him, and promised he should get into no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> more trouble. We went at once
+to a neighbor's house for the night. The next day I got a room in the
+yard of a house belonging to some white people. Here we stayed two
+weeks. The only return I was asked to make for the room was to weed
+the garden. Lawrence and I dug out some weeds and burned them, but
+came so near setting fire to the place that we were told we need not
+dig any more weeds, but that we might have the use of the room so long
+as we cared to stay.</p>
+
+<p>In about a week and a half more we got together such things as we
+wanted to keep and take away with us.</p>
+
+<p>The last time I saw my sister, I had persuaded her to open a bank
+account, and she had done so, and had made small deposits from time to
+time. When I came to look for the bankbook, I discovered that her
+lodger, one Mayfield, had taken it at her death, and nobody knew where
+it might be now. I found out that Mayfield had drawn thirty dollars
+from the account for my sister's burial, and also an unknown amount
+for himself. He had done nothing for the boy. I went down to the bank,
+and was told that Mayfield claimed to look after my sister's burial
+and her affairs. He had made one Reuben Bennett, who was no relation
+and had no interest in the mat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>ter, administrator for Lawrence, until
+his coming of age. But Bennett had as yet done nothing for him. The
+book was in the bank, with some of the account still undrawn, how much
+I did not know. I next went to see a lawyer, to find out how much it
+would cost me to get this book. The lawyer said fifteen dollars. I
+said I would call again. In the meantime, I went to the court house,
+and when the case on trial was adjourned I went to the judge and
+stated my case. The judge, who was slightly acquainted with my sister
+and me, told me to have Reuben Bennett in court next morning at nine
+o'clock, and to bring Lawrence with me. When we had all assembled
+before the judge, he told Bennett to take Lawrence and go to the bank
+and get the money belonging to my sister. Bennett went and collected
+the money, some thirty-five dollars. The boy was then given into my
+care by the judge. For his kindness, the judge would accept no return.
+Happy at having obtained the money so easily, we went back to our
+room, and rested until our departure the next night for Jacksonville,
+Florida. I had decided to go to this place for the winter, on account
+of Lawrence, thinking the Northern winter would be too severe for him.</p>
+
+<p>My youngest sister, who had come to Macon from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> Atlanta a few days
+before my arrival, did not hear of Caroline's death until within a few
+days of our departure. This youngest sister decided to go to Florida
+with us for the winter.</p>
+
+<p>Our trunks and baggage were taken to the station in a team. We had a
+goodly supply of food, given us by our friends and by the people whose
+hospitality we had shared during the latter part of our stay.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning we got into Jacksonville. My idea was to get a place
+as chambermaid at Green Cove Springs, Florida, through the influence
+of the head waiter at a hotel there, whom I knew. After I got into
+Jacksonville I changed my plans. I did not see how I could move my
+things any farther, and we went to a hotel for colored people, hired a
+room for two dollars, and boarded ourselves on the food which had been
+given us in Macon. This food lasted about two weeks. Then I had to
+buy, and my money was going every day, and none coming in, I did not
+know what to do. One night the idea of keeping a restaurant came to
+me, and I decided to get a little home for the three of us, and then
+see what I could do in this line of business. After a long and hard
+search, I found a little house of two rooms where we could live, and
+the next day I found a place to start my restaurant. For house
+furnishings, we used at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> first, to the best advantage we could, the
+things we had brought from Macon. Caroline's cookstove had been left
+with my foster-mother in Macon. After hiring the room for the
+restaurant, I sent for this stove, and it arrived in a few days. Then
+I went to a dealer in second-hand furniture and got such things as
+were actually needed for the house and the restaurant, on the
+condition that he would take them back at a discount when I got
+through with them.</p>
+
+<p>Trade at the restaurant was very good, and we got along nicely. My
+sister got a position as nurse for fifteen dollars a month. One day
+the cook from a shipwrecked vessel came to my restaurant, and in
+return for his board and a bed in the place, agreed to do my cooking.
+After trade became good, I changed my residence to a house of four
+rooms, and put three cheap cots in each of two of the rooms, and let
+the cots at a dollar a week apiece to colored men who worked nearby in
+hotels. Lawrence and I did the chamber work at night, after the day's
+work in the restaurant.</p>
+
+<p>I introduced "Boston baked beans" into my restaurant, much to the
+amusement of the people at first; but after they had once eaten them
+it was hard to meet the demand for beans.</p>
+
+<p>Lawrence, who was now about eleven years old,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> was a great help to me.
+He took out dinners to the cigarmakers in a factory nearby.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the season, about four months, it had grown so hot that
+we could stay in Jacksonville no longer. From my restaurant and my
+lodgers I cleared one hundred and seventy-five dollars, which I put
+into the Jacksonville bank. Then I took the furniture back to the
+dealer, who fulfilled his agreement.</p>
+
+<p>My sister decided to go back to Atlanta when she got through with her
+place as nurse, which would not be for some weeks.</p>
+
+<p>I took seventy-five dollars out of my bank account, and with Lawrence
+went to Fernandina. There we took train to Port Royal, S. C., then
+steamer to New York. From New York we went to Brooklyn for a few days.
+Then we went to Newport and stayed with a woman who kept a
+lodging-house. I decided to see what I could do in Newport by keeping
+a boarding and lodging-house. I hired a little house and agreed to pay
+nine dollars a month for it. I left Lawrence with some neighbors while
+I came to Boston and took some things out of storage. These things I
+moved into the little house. But I found, after paying one month's
+rent, that the house was not properly located for the business I
+wanted. I left, and with Lawrence went to Narragansett Pier. I got a
+place there as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> "runner" for a laundry; that is, I was to go to the
+hotels and leave cards and solicit trade. Then Lawrence thought he
+would like to help by doing a little work. One night when I came back
+from the laundry, I missed him. Nobody had seen him. All night I
+searched for him, but did not find him. In the early morning I met him
+coming home. He said a man who kept a bowling alley had hired him at
+fifty cents a week to set up the pins, and it was in the bowling alley
+he had been all night. He said the man let him take a nap on his coat
+when he got sleepy. I went at once to see this man, and told him not
+to hire my nephew again. A lady who kept a hotel offered me two
+dollars a week for Lawrence's services in helping the cook and serving
+in the help's dining-room. When the season closed, the lady who hired
+Lawrence was very reluctant to let him go.</p>
+
+<p>We went back to Newport to see the landlady from whom I had hired the
+house, and I paid such part of the rent as I could. Then I packed my
+things and started for Boston. On reaching there, I kept such of my
+things as I needed, and stored the rest, and took a furnished room. In
+about a week's time I went to see the husband of the lady for whom I
+had worked at Wellesley Hills just previous to my departure for the
+South. He had told me to let him know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> when I returned to Boston. He
+said a man and his wife were at present employed at his farm, but he
+didn't know how long they would stay. Before another week had passed,
+this gentleman sent for me. He said his wife wanted me to go out to
+the farm, and that I could have Lawrence with me. The boy, he said,
+could help his wife with the poultry, and could have a chance to go to
+school. I was promised three dollars and a half a week, and no washing
+to do. I was told that the farm had been offered for sale, and of
+course it might change hands any day. I was promised, however, that I
+should lose nothing by the change.</p>
+
+<p>Lawrence was very lonely at the farm, with no companions, and used to
+sit and cry.</p>
+
+<p>The place was sold about ten weeks after I went there, and I came into
+Boston to look about for a restaurant, leaving Lawrence at the farm.
+When the home was broken up, the owners came to the Revere House,
+Boston. Barrels of apples, potatoes and other provisions were given to
+me.</p>
+
+<p>I found a little restaurant near the Providence depot for sale. I made
+arrangements at once to buy the place for thirty-five dollars, and the
+next day I brought Lawrence and my things from Wellesley Hills. I paid
+two dollars a week rent for my little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> restaurant, and did very well.
+The next spring I sold the place for fifty dollars, in time to get a
+place at the beach for the summer.</p>
+
+<p>Lawrence got a position in a drug store, and kept it four years. Then
+he went to Hampton College, Hampton, Va. After finishing there, he
+came back and then went to the World's Fair in Chicago. After that he
+took a position on one of the Fall River line boats. At the outbreak
+of the Spanish War, he enlisted in Brooklyn as powderman on the
+battleship Texas. He was on the Texas when the first shot was fired.
+He was present at the decoration of the graves of the American
+soldiers in Havana, and also at the decoration of the battleship Maine
+after she was raised. After the war, he came to Brooklyn and got an
+honorable discharge. Then he served as valet to a rich New York man,
+who travelled a good deal. About the middle of last November (1906)
+Lawrence came to Boston to see me. He is now in Atlantic City, a
+waiter in the Royal Hotel.</p>
+
+<p>In 1888, I was married, at 27 Pemberton Street, to Samuel H. Burton,
+by Dr. O. P. Gifford. After my marriage, Mr. Burton got a place in
+Braintree as valet to an old gentleman who was slightly demented, and
+he could not be satisfied until I joined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> him. So I put our things
+into storage and went to Braintree. I remained there ten months, and
+then came back to Boston. Then I got a position as head matron in the
+help's dining-room in a hotel at Watch Hill, R. I. My husband was also
+there as waiter. At the end of the season we both came home, and
+rented a lodging-house, and lost money on it.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_06.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="150" height="80" /></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="REMINISCENCES" id="REMINISCENCES"></a>REMINISCENCES</h2>
+<h2><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></h2>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>The times changed from slavery days to freedom's days. As young as I
+  was, my thoughts were mystified to see such wonderful changes; yet I
+  did not know the meaning of these changing days. But days glided by,
+  and in my mystified way I could see and hear many strange things. I
+  would see my master and mistress in close conversation and they seemed
+  anxious about something that I, a child, could not know the meaning
+  of.</p>
+<p>But as weeks went by, I began to understand. I saw all the slaves one
+by one disappearing from the plantation (for night and day they kept
+going) until there was not one to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>All around the plantation was left barren. Day after day I could run
+down to the gate and see down the road troops and troops of Garrison's
+Brigade, and in the midst of them gangs and gangs of negro slaves who
+joined with the soldiers, shouting, dancing and clapping their hands.
+The war was ended, and from Mobile Bay to Clayton, Ala., all along
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> road, on all the plantations, the slaves thought that if they
+joined the Yankee soldiers they would be perfectly safe.</p>
+
+<p>As I looked on these I did not know what it meant, for I had never
+seen such a circus. The Yankee soldiers found that they had such an
+army of men and women and children, that they had to build tents and
+feed them to keep them from starving. But from what I, a little child,
+saw and heard the older ones say, that must have been a terrible time
+of trouble. I heard my master and mistress talking. They said, "Well,
+I guess those Yankees had such a large family on their hands, we
+rather guessed those fanatics on freedom would be only too glad to
+send some back for their old masters to provide for them."</p>
+
+<p>But they never came back to our plantation, and I could only speak of
+my own home, but I thought to myself, what would become of my good
+times all over the old plantation. Oh, the harvesting times, the great
+hog-killing times when several hundred hogs were killed, and we
+children watched and got our share of the slaughter in pig's liver
+roasted on a bed of coals, eaten ashes and all. Then came the great
+sugar-cane grinding time, when they were making the molasses, and we
+children would be hanging round, drinking the sugar-cane juice, and
+await<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>ing the moment to help ourselves to everything good. We did,
+too, making ourselves sticky and dirty with the sweet stuff being
+made. Not only were the slave children there, but the little white
+children from Massa's house would join us and have a jolly time. The
+negro child and the white child knew not the great chasm between their
+lives, only that they had dainties and we had crusts.</p>
+
+<p>My sister, being the children's nurse, would take them and wash their
+hands and put them to bed in their luxurious bedrooms, while we little
+slaves would find what homes we could. My brother and I would go to
+sleep on some lumber under the house, where our sister Caroline would
+find us and put us to bed. She would wipe our hands and faces and make
+up our beds on the floor in Massa's house, for we had lived with him
+ever since our own mother had run away, after being whipped by her
+mistress. Later on, after the war, my mother returned and claimed us.
+I never knew my father, who was a white man.</p>
+
+<p>During these changing times, just after the war, I was trying to find
+out what the change would bring about for us, as we were under the
+care of our mistress, living in the great house. I thought this: that
+Henry, Caroline and myself, Louise, would have to go as others had
+done, and where should we go and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> what should we do? But as time went
+on there were many changes. Our mistress and her two daughters, Martha
+and Mary, had to become their own servants, and do all the work of the
+house, going into the kitchen, cooking and washing, and feeling very
+angry that all their house servants had run away to the Yankees. The
+time had come when our good times were over, our many leisure hours
+spent among the cotton fields and woods and our half-holiday on
+Saturday. These were all gone. The boys had to leave school and take
+the runaway slaves' places to finish the planting and pick the cotton.
+I myself have worked in the cotton field, picking great baskets full,
+too heavy for me to carry. All was over! I now fully understood the
+change in our circumstances. Little Henry and I had no more time to
+sit basking ourselves in the sunshine of the sunny south. The land was
+empty and the servants all gone. I can see my dainty mistress coming
+down the steps saying, "Rit, you and Henry will have to go and pick up
+some chips, for Miss Mary and myself have to prepare the breakfast.
+You children will have to learn to work. Do you understand me, Rit and
+Henry?" "Yes, Missus, we understand." And away we flew, laughing, and
+thinking it a great joke that we, Massa's pets, must learn to work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But it was a sad, sad change on the old plantation, and the beautiful,
+proud Sunny South, with its masters and mistresses, was bowed beneath
+the sin brought about by slavery. It was a terrible blow to the owners
+of plantations and slaves, and their children would feel it more than
+they, for they had been reared to be waited upon by willing or
+unwilling slaves.</p>
+
+<p>In this place I will insert a poem my young mistress taught us, for
+she was always reading poems and good stories. But first I will record
+a talk I heard between my master and mistress. They were sitting in
+the dining-room, and we children were standing around the table. My
+mistress said, "I suppose, as Nancy has never returned, we had better
+keep Henry, Caroline and Louise until they are of age." "Yes, we
+will," said Massa, Miss Mary and Miss Martha, "but it is 'man proposes
+and God disposes.'"</p>
+
+<p>So in the following pages you will read the sequel to my childhood
+life in the Sunny South.</p>
+
+<p>Right after the war when my mother had got settled in her hut, with
+her little brood hovered around her, from which she had been so long
+absent, we had nothing to eat, and nothing to sleep on save some old
+pieces of horse-blankets and hay that the soldiers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> gave her. The
+first day in the hut was a rainy day; and as night drew near it grew
+more fierce, and we children had gathered some little fagots to make a
+fire by the time mother came home, with something for us to eat, such
+as she had gathered through the day. It was only corn meal and pease
+and ham-bone and skins which she had for our supper. She had started a
+little fire, and said, "Some of you close that door," for it was cold.
+She swung the pot over the fire and filled it with the pease and
+ham-bone and skins. Then she seated her little brood around the fire
+on the pieces of blanket, where we watched with all our eyes, our
+hearts filled with desire, looking to see what she would do next. She
+took down an old broken earthen bowl, and tossed into it the little
+meal she had brought, stirring it up with water, making a hoe cake.
+She said, "One of you draw that griddle out here," and she placed it
+on the few little coals. Perhaps this griddle you have never seen, or
+one like it. I will describe it to you. This griddle was a round piece
+of iron, quite thick, having three legs. It might have been made in a
+blacksmith's shop, for I have never seen one like it before or since.
+It was placed upon the coals, and with an old iron spoon she put on
+this griddle half of the corn meal she had mixed up. She said, "I will
+put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> a tin plate over this, and put it away for your breakfast." We
+five children were eagerly watching the pot boiling, with the pease
+and ham-bone. The rain was pattering on the roof of the hut. All at
+once there came a knock at the door. My mother answered the knock.
+When she opened the door, there stood a white woman and three little
+children, all dripping with the rain. My mother said, "In the name of
+the Lord, where are you going on such a night, with these children?"
+The woman said, "Auntie, I am travelling. Will you please let me stop
+here to-night, out of the rain, with my children?" My mother said,
+"Yes, honey. I ain't got much, but what I have got I will share with
+you." "God bless you!" They all came in. We children looked in wonder
+at what had come. But my mother scattered her own little brood and
+made a place for the forlorn wanderers. She said, "Wait, honey, let me
+turn over that hoe cake." Then the two women fell to talking, each
+telling a tale of woe. After a time, my mother called out, "Here, you,
+Louise, or some one of you, put some fagots under the pot, so these
+pease can get done." We couldn't put them under fast enough, first one
+and then another of us children, the mothers still talking. Soon my
+mother said, "Draw that hoe cake one side, I guess it is done." My
+mother said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> to the woman, "Honey, ain't you got no husband?" She
+said, "No, my husband got killed in the war." My mother replied,
+"Well, my husband died right after the war. I have been away from my
+little brood for four years. With a hard struggle, I have got them
+away from the Farrin plantation, for they did not want to let them go.
+But I got them. I was determined to have them. But they would not let
+me have them if they could have kept them. With God's help I will keep
+them from starving. The white folks are good to me. They give me work,
+and I know, with God's help, I can get along." The white woman
+replied, "Yes, Auntie, my husband left me on a rich man's plantation.
+This man promised to look out for me until my husband came home; but
+he got killed in the war, and the Yankees have set his negroes free
+and he said he could not help me any more, and we would have to do the
+best we could for ourselves. I gave my things to a woman to keep for
+me until I could find my kinsfolk. They live about fifty miles from
+here, up in the country. I am on my way there now." My mother said,
+"How long will it take you to get there?" "About three days, if it
+don't rain." My mother said, "Ain't you got some way to ride there?"
+"No, Auntie,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> there is no way of riding up where my folks live, the
+place where I am from."</p>
+
+<p>We hoped the talk was most ended, for we were anxiously watching that
+pot. Pretty soon my mother seemed to realize our existence. She
+exclaimed, "My Lord! I suppose the little children are nearly starved.
+Are those pease done, young ones?" She turned and said to the white
+woman, "Have you-all had anything to eat?" "We stopped at a house
+about dinner time, but the woman didn't have anything but some bread
+and buttermilk." My mother said, "Well, honey, I ain't got but a
+little, but I will divide with you." The woman said, "Thank you,
+Auntie. You just give my children a little; I can do without it."</p>
+
+<p>Then came the dividing. We all watched with all our eyes to see what
+the shares would be. My mother broke a mouthful of bread and put it on
+each of the tin plates. Then she took the old spoon and equally
+divided the pea soup. We children were seated around the fire, with
+some little wooden spoons. But the wooden spoons didn't quite go
+round, and some of us had to eat with our fingers. Our share of the
+meal, however, was so small that we were as hungry when we finished as
+when we began.</p>
+
+<p>My mother said, "Take that rag and wipe your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> face and hands, and give
+it to the others and let them use it, too. Put those plates upon the
+table." We immediately obeyed orders, and took our seats again around
+the fire. "One of you go and pull that straw out of the corner and get
+ready to go to bed." We all lay down on the straw, the white children
+with us, and my mother covered us over with the blanket. We were soon
+in the "Land of Nod," forgetting our empty stomachs. The two mothers
+still continued to talk, sitting down on the only seats, a couple of
+blocks. A little back against the wall my mother and the white woman
+slept.</p>
+
+<p>Bright and early in the morning we were called up, and the rest of the
+hoe cake was eaten for breakfast, with a little meat, some coffee
+sweetened with molasses. The little wanderers and their mother shared
+our meal, and then they started again on their journey towards their
+home among their kinsfolk, and we never saw them again. My mother
+said, "God bless you! I wish you all good luck. I hope you will reach
+your home safely." Then mother said to us, "You young ones put away
+that straw and sweep up the place, because I have to go to my work."
+But she came at noon and brought us a nice dinner, more satisfactory
+than the supper and breakfast we had had. We children were delighted
+that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> there were no little white children to share our meal this time.</p>
+
+<p>In time, my older sister, Caroline, and myself got work among good
+people, where we soon forgot all the hard times in the little log
+cabin by the roadside in Clayton, Alabama.</p>
+
+<p>Up to my womanhood, even to this day, these memories fill my mind.
+Some kind friends' eyes may see these pages, and may they recall some
+fond memories of their happy childhood, as what I have written brings
+back my young life in the great Sunny South.</p>
+
+<p>I am something of the type of Moses on this 49th birthday; not that I
+am wrapped in luxuries, but that my thoughts are wrapped in the
+luxuries of the heavenly life in store for me, when my life work is
+done, and my friends shall be blessed by the work I shall have done.
+For God has commanded me to write this book, that some one may read
+and receive comfort and courage to do what God commands them to do.
+God bless every soul who shall read this true life story of one born
+in slavery.</p>
+
+<p>It is now six years since the inspiration to write this book came to
+me in the Franklin evening school. I have struggled on, helped by
+friends. God said, "Write the book and I will help you." And He has.</p>
+
+<p>It was through a letter of my life that the principal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> of the Franklin
+school said, "Write the book and I will help you." But he died before
+the next term, and I worked on. On this, my 49th birthday, I can say I
+believe that the book is close to the finish.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My life is like the summer rose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That opens to the morning sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ere the shades of evening close<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is scattered on the ground to die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet on the rose's humble bed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweetest dews of night are shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if she wept a tear for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if she wept the waste to see.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My life is like the autumn leaf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That trembles in the moon's pale ray.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its hold is frail, its date is brief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Restless, and soon to pass away.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The parent tree will mourn its shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The winds bewail the leafless tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But none shall breathe a sigh for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My life is like the prints which feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have left on Tampa's desert strand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon as the rising tide shall beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All trace will vanish from the sand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, as if grieving to efface<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All vestige of the human race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On that lone shore loud moans the sea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But none, alas, shall mourn for me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="A_VISION" id="A_VISION"></a>A VISION</h2>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>There remains to be told the story of my conversion and how I came to
+  write the foregoing history of my life.</p>
+<p>In 1875 I was taken sick. I thought I was going to die, and I promised
+the Lord I would serve Him if he would only spare my life. When I got
+well again, however, I forgot all about my promise. Then I was taken
+sick again. It seemed I had to go through a dark desert place, where
+great demons stood on either side. In the distance I could just see a
+dim light, and I tried to get to this light, but could not reach it.
+Then I found myself in a great marsh, and was sinking. I threw up my
+hands and said, "Lord, if Thou wilt raise me from this pit, I will
+never fail to serve Thee." Then it seemed as if I mounted on wings
+into the air, and all the demons that stood about made a great
+roaring. My flight ended on the top of a hill. But I was troubled
+because I could not find the light. All at once, at the sound of a
+loud peal of thunder, the earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> opened, and I fell down into the pits
+of hell. Again I prayed to God to save me from this, and again I
+promised to serve Him. My prayer was answered, and I was able to fly
+out of the pit, on to a bank. At the foot of the little hill on which
+I sat were some little children, and they called to me to come down.
+But I could not get down. Then the children raised a ladder for me,
+and I came down among them. A little cherub took me by the hand and
+led me in the River of Badjied of Jordan. I looked at my ankles and
+shoulders and discovered I had little wings. On the river was a ship.
+The children, the cherub and I got into the ship. When we reached a
+beautiful spot, the little cherub made the ship fast, and there opened
+before us pearly gates, and we all passed through into the golden
+street. The street led to the throne of God, about which we marched.
+Then the cherub conducted us to a table where a feast was spread. Then
+the children vanished. The cherub took me by the hand, and said, "Go
+back into the world, and tell the saints and sinners what a Savior you
+have found, and if you prove faithful I will take you to Heaven to
+live forever, when I come again."</p>
+
+<p>When I recovered from my sickness, I was baptized by the Rev. Dr.
+Pope, and joined the church<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> in Macon. When I came North, I brought my
+letter. Not finding any church for colored people, I came among the
+white people, and was treated so kindly that I became very much
+attached to them. The first church I became connected with in the
+North, was in Newtonville. When I came to Boston, I went to the Warren
+Avenue Baptist Church. Before my marriage I joined Tremont Temple,
+when Dr. Lorimer was its pastor. When the church was burned, my letter
+was destroyed, but when I went South on a visit I had the letter
+duplicated, and took it to the new Temple. I am still a member of the
+Temple, and hope to remain there as long as God gives me life.</p>
+
+<p>Five years ago, I began to go to the Franklin evening school. Mr.
+Guild was the master. At one time he requested all the pupils to write
+the story of their lives, and he considered my composition so
+interesting he said he thought if I could work it up and enlarge upon
+it, I could write a book. He promised to help me. My teacher was Miss
+Emerson, and she was interested in me. But the next year Miss Emerson
+gave up teaching, and Mr. Guild died.</p>
+
+<p>In each of the terms that I have attended, I have received the
+certificates showing that I have been regular and punctual in
+attendance, have maintained<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> good deportment, and shown general
+proficiency in the studies. I would have graduated in 1907, had it not
+been for sickness. The following was to have been my graduating
+composition. </p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_07.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="100" height="151" /></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="ABRAHAM_LINCOLN" id="ABRAHAM_LINCOLN"></a>ABRAHAM LINCOLN</h2>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>ANNIE L. BURTON </h3>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>In a little clearing in the backwoods of Harding County, Kentucky,
+  there stood years ago a rude cabin within whose walls Abraham Lincoln
+  passed his childhood. An "unaccountable" man he has been called, and
+  the adjective was well chosen, for who could account for a mind and
+  nature like Lincoln's with the ancestry he owned? His father was a
+  thriftless, idle carpenter, scarcely supporting his family, and with
+  but the poorest living. His mother was an uneducated woman, but must
+  have been of an entirely different nature, for she was able to impress
+  upon her boy a love of learning. During her life, his chief, in fact
+  his only book, was the Bible, and in this he learned to read. Just
+  before he was nine years old, the father brought his family across the
+  Ohio River into Illinois, and there in the unfloored log cabin, minus
+  windows and doors, Abraham lived and grew. It was during this time
+  that the mother died, and in a short time the shiftless father with
+  his family drifted back to the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> home, and here found another for
+  his children in one who was a friend of earlier days. This woman was
+  of a thrifty nature, and her energy made him floor the cabin, hang
+  doors, and open up windows. She was fond of the children and cared for
+  them tenderly, and to her the boy Abraham owed many pleasant hours.</p>
+<p>As he grew older, his love for knowledge increased and he obtained
+whatever books he could, studying by the firelight, and once walking
+six miles for an English Grammar. After he read it, he walked the six
+miles to return it. He needed the book no longer, for with this as
+with his small collection of books, what he once read was his. He
+absorbed the books he read.</p>
+
+<p>During these early years he did "odd jobs" for the neighbors. Even at
+this age, his gift of story telling was a notable one, as well as his
+sterling honesty. His first knowledge of slavery in all its horrors
+came to him when he was about twenty-one years old. He had made a trip
+to New Orleans, and there in the old slave market he saw an auction.
+His face paled, and his spirits rose in revolt at the coarse jest of
+the auctioneer, and there he registered a vow within himself, "If ever
+I have a chance to strike against slavery, I will strike and strike<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+hard." To this end he worked and for this he paid "the last full
+measure of devotion."</p>
+
+<p>His political life began with a defeat for the Illinois Legislature in
+1830, but he was returned in 1834, 1836, 1838, and declined
+re-election in 1840, preferring to study law and prepare for his
+future. "Honest Abe" he has been called, and throughout Illinois that
+characteristic was the prominent one known of him. From this time his
+rise was rapid. Sent to the Congress of the nation, he seldom spoke,
+but when he did his terse though simple expression always won him a
+hearing. His simplicity and frankness was deceptive to the political
+leaders, and from its very fearlessness often defeated them.</p>
+
+<p>His famous debates with Senator Douglas, the "Little Giant," spread
+his reputation from one end of the country to the other, and at their
+close there was no question as to Lincoln's position in the North, or
+on the vital question of the day.</p>
+
+<p>The spirit of forbearance he carried with him to the White House,
+"with malice toward none, with charity for all." This was the spirit
+that carried him through the four awful years of the war. The martyr's
+crown hovered over him from the outset. The martyr's spirit was always
+his. The burden of the war always rested on his shoulders. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+fathers, sons and brothers, the honored dead of Gettysburg, of
+Antietam, all lay upon his mighty heart.</p>
+
+<p>He never forgot his home friends, and when occasionally one dropped in
+on him, the door was always open. They frequently had tea in the good
+old-fashioned way, and then Lincoln listened to the news of the
+village, old stories were retold, new ones told, and the old
+friendships cemented by new bonds.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the end, swift and sudden, and gloom settled upon the
+country; for in spite of ancestry, self-education, ungainly figure,
+ill-fitting clothes, the soul of the man had conquered even the
+stubborn South, while the cold-blooded North was stricken to the
+heart. The noblest one of all had been taken.</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_08.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="150" height="122" /></p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="The_Race_Question_in_America" id="The_Race_Question_in_America"></a><span class="smcap">The Race Question in America</span></h2>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>DR. P. THOMAS STANFORD </h3>
+<h4><span class="smcap">Author of the "Tragedy of the Negro in America"</span></h4>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>As a member of the negro race, I myself have suffered as a child whose
+  parents were born in slavery, deprived of all influences of the
+  ennobling life, made obedient to the will of the white man by the lash
+  and chain, and sold to the highest bidder when there was no more use
+  for them.</p>
+<p>The first negro fact for white thought is&mdash;that my clients, the
+colored people here in America, are not responsible for being here any
+more than they are responsible for their conditions of ignorance and
+poverty. They suddenly emerge from their prison house poor, without a
+home, without food or clothing, and ignorant. Now the enemies of God
+and of the progress of civilization in our country are to-day
+introducing a system of slavery with which they hope to again enslave
+the colored people. To carry out their evil designs they retain able
+politicians, lawyers and newspapers to represent them, such as Senator
+Tillman, the Hon. John Temple Graves of Georgia and the Baltimore Sun,
+and they are trying the negro on four counts which allege that the
+race is ignorant, cannot be taught, is lazy and immoral.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now, are the negroes, as a whole, guilty of these charges? In the
+first place, the negro race of America is not ignorant. In the year
+1833 John C. Calhoun, senator from South Carolina, is reported to have
+said that if he could find a single negro who understood the Greek
+syntax, he would believe the negro was human and would treat him as
+such. At that time it was a very safe test. God accepted the challenge
+in behalf of the negro race, and inspired his white sons and daughters
+both in the North and South to teach their brothers in black; and a
+few years afterward black men were examined and the world pronounced
+them scholars, while later still the schools were using a Greek
+grammar written by a black man, W. S. Scarborough of Wilberforce, O.
+In his class were Frederick Douglas, Henry Highland Garnett, Robert
+Elliot, the Rev. J. C. Price and John M. Langstone, as defenders of
+the race. Bishop Allen Payne, Bishop Hood and John B. Reaver will ever
+be remembered for their godly piety and Christian example, as we shall
+also remember Bishop, Sumner and Bubois for their great literary
+productions, William Washington Brown as the greatest organizer and
+financier of the century, Prof. Booker Washington as the greatest
+industrial educator of the world, and last, but not least, Thomas
+Condon, the greatest crank for the spiritual training and higher
+education of the negro race.</p>
+
+<p>Under the leadership of such men, assisted by our white friends and
+backed up by our colored race journals&mdash;the Christian Banner of
+Philadelphia, the Christian Recorder, the Star of Zion and the
+Afro-American Ledger of Baltimore,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> Ind., the National Baptist Union
+of Pennsylvania, the Age of New York, the Christian Organizer of
+Virginia and the Guardian of Boston&mdash;our onward march to civilization
+is phenomenal and by these means we have reduced illiteracy 50 per
+cent.</p>
+
+<p>In the South we have over $12,000,000 worth of school property, 3,000
+teachers, 50 high schools, 17 academies, 125 colleges, 10 law and
+medical schools, 25 theological seminaries, all doing a mighty work
+for God and humanity.</p>
+
+<p>Now as to laziness. We have now in practice 14,000 lawyers and
+doctors, and have accumulated over $150,000,000 worth of church
+property. In the South we have over 150,000 farms and houses, valued
+at $900,000,000, and personal property at $170,000,000. We have raised
+over $11,000,000 for educational purposes. The property per capita for
+every colored man, woman and child in the United States is estimated
+at $75, and we are operating successfully several banks and factories;
+we have 7,500,000 acres of land, and the business activity of the
+colored people was never as thoroughly aroused as it is to-day.</p>
+
+<p>When I come to deal with the charge of immorality I bow my head and
+blush for shame, first because if the charge be true, I see they are
+getting like the white man every day. I know that at the close of the
+American civil war the 4,000,000 negroes had more than 25 per cent. of
+white blood coursing through their veins.</p>
+
+<p>What about this new educated negro? Just ask the Pullman Car Company,
+which employs hundreds of negroes,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> into whose care thousands of women
+and children of our best American families are entrusted every day.</p>
+
+<p>Now, you cannot do without the negro, because if you send him away,
+you will run after him. He is here to stay. The only way to deal
+successfully with the colored race is God's way. First, recognize that
+he is your guest; second, recognize that you have robbed him of his
+birthplace, home, family and savings. It is these facts that are
+causing so much unrest on the part of the whites in this country. The
+negro loves his country, which he has proved beyond a doubt in every
+American battle, in every act of loyalty to his country, and in his
+long and patient suffering. Pay him what you owe him by educating him.
+Give him an opportunity to live. Allow him to live in decent parts of
+your city. Pay wages sufficient to support his children. Do this and
+God will remove the objectionable negro from the land.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The Negro stands to-day upon an eminence that overlooks more than two
+decades spent in efforts to ameliorate the condition of seven million
+immortal souls by opening before their hitherto dark and cheerless
+lives possibilities of development into a perfect and symmetrical
+manhood and womanhood.</p>
+
+<p>The retrospect presents to us a picture of a people's moral
+degradation and mental gloom caused by slavery. A people absolutely
+sunk in the lowest depth of a poverty which reduced them to objects of
+charity and surrounded them with difficulties which have ever stood as
+impregnable barriers in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> their way to speedy advancement in all those
+qualities that make the useful citizen. Every influence of state and
+society life seems to be against their progress and like some evil
+genius, these Negro hating ghosts are forever hunting them with the
+idea that their future must be one of subserviency to the white race.</p>
+
+<p>Hated and oppressed by the combined wisdom, wealth and statesmanship
+of a mighty confederacy who watched and criticised their mistakes
+which were strongly magnified by those who fain would write
+destruction upon the Emancipation; they are expected to rise from this
+condition.</p>
+
+<p>The idea of giving to the newly enfranchised a sound, practical
+education was considered at the dawn of freedom, an easy solution of
+what as an unsolved problem threatened the perpetuity of republican
+institutions. Within a year from the firing on Sumter, benevolent and
+farsighted Northern friends had established schools from Washington to
+the Gulf of Mexico, which became centers of light penetrating the
+darkness and scattering the blessings of an enlightened manhood far
+and wide.</p>
+
+<p>The history of the world cannot produce a more affecting spectacle
+than the growth of this mighty Christian philanthropy which, in
+beginning amid the din of battle, has steadily marched on through
+every opposing influence, and lifted a race from weakness to strength,
+from poverty to wealth, from moral and intellectual nonentity to place
+and power among the nations of the earth.</p>
+
+<p>We have ten millions of colored people in the United States<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> whose
+condition is much better to-day than it was fifty years ago. Then he
+had nothing, not even a name. To-day he has 160,000 farms under good
+cultivation and valued at $4,000,000 and has personal property valued
+at $200,000,000. In the Southland the negroes own 160 first-class drug
+stores, nine banks, 13 building associations, and 100 insurance and
+benefit companies, two street railways and an electric at
+Jacksonville, Fla., which they started some few years ago when the
+white people passed the Jim Crow law for that state.</p>
+
+<p>Now it is reckoned that the negroes in the United States are paying
+about $700,000,000 property taxes and this is only one-fifth of all
+they have accumulated, for the negro is getting more like the white
+people every day and has learned from him that it is not a sign of
+loyalty and patriotism to publish his property at its full taxable
+value.</p>
+
+<p>In education and morals the progress is still greater. As you all
+know, at the close of the war the whole race was practically
+illiterate. It was a rare thing, indeed, to find a man of the race who
+even knew his letters. In 1880 the illiteracy had fallen to 70 per
+cent. and rapid strides along that line have been made ever since.</p>
+
+<p>To-day there are 37,000 negro teachers in America, of which number
+23,000 are regular graduates of high and normal schools and colleges,
+23 are college presidents, 169 are principals of seminaries and many
+are principals of higher institutions. At present there are 369 negro
+men and women taking courses in the universities of Europe. The negro
+ministry, together with these teachers have been prepared for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> their
+work by our schools and are the greatest factors the North has
+produced for the uplift of the colored man.</p>
+
+<p>To-day there are those who wish to impede the negro's progress and
+lessen his educational advantages by industrializing such colleges as
+Howard University of Washington by placing on their Boards of Trustees
+and Managers the pronounced leaders of industrialism, giving as a
+reason that the better he is educated the worse he is; in other words,
+they say crime has increased among educated negroes. While stern facts
+show the opposite, the exact figures from the last census show that
+the greater proportion of the negro criminals are from the illiterate
+class. To-day the marriage vow, which by the teaching of the whites
+the negro held to be of so little importance before the war, is
+guarded more sacredly. The one room cabin, with its attendant evils,
+is passing away, and the negro woman, the mightiest moral factor in
+the life of her people, is beginning to be more careful in her
+deportment and is no longer the easy victim of the unlicensed passion
+of certain white men. This is a great gain and is a sign of real
+progress, for no race can rise higher than its women.</p>
+
+<p>Let me plead with the friends of the negro. Please continue to give
+him higher ideals of a better life and stand by him in the struggle.
+He has done well with the opportunities given him and is doing
+something along all the walks of life to help himself, which is
+gratitude of the best sort. What he needs to-day is moral sympathy,
+which in his condition years ago he could hardly appreciate. The
+sym<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>pathy must be moral, not necessarily social. It must be the
+sympathy of a soul set on fire for righteousness and fair play in a
+republic like ours. A sympathy which will see to it that every man
+shall have a man's chance in all the affairs of this great nation
+which boasts of being the land of the free and the home of the brave
+for which the black man has suffered and done so much in every sense
+of the word.</p>
+
+<p>Let this great Christian nation of eighty millions of people do
+justice to the Black Battalion, and seeing President Roosevelt
+acknowledges that he overstepped the bounds of his power in
+discharging and renouncing them before they had a fair trial, and now
+that they are vindicated before the world, to take back what he called
+them, Cutthroats, Brutal Murderers, Black Midnight Assassins, and
+Cowards. This and this alone will to some extent atone for the wrong
+he has done and help him to regain the respect and confidence of the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Now in order to change the condition of things, I would suggest:
+First, that an international, industrial association be formed to help
+Afro-Americans to engage in manufacturing and commercial pursuits,
+assist them to buy farms, erect factories, open shops in which their
+young men and women can enter and produce what the world requires
+every day for its inhabitants.</p>
+
+<p>If they were able to-day to produce the articles in common use as
+boots, shoes, hats, cotton and woolen goods, made-up clothing and
+enterprises such as farming, mining, forging, carpentering, etc.,
+negroes would find a ready sale in prefer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>ence to all others, because
+of its being a race enterprise, doing what no other corporation does,
+giving employment to members of the race as tradesmen, and teaching
+others to become skilled workers. These enterprises should be started
+in the southern, northern and western states, where the negro
+population will warrant such an undertaking.</p>
+
+<p>I would suggest "A School History of the Negro Race" to be placed in
+our public schools as a text book. The general tone of all the
+histories taught in our public schools points to the inferiority of
+the negro and the superiority of the white. It must be indeed a
+stimulus to any people to be able to refer to their ancestry as
+distinguished in deeds of valor, and particularly so to the colored
+people. With what eyes can the white child look upon the colored child
+and the colored child look upon himself, when they have completed the
+assigned course of United States history, and in it found not one word
+of credit, not one word of favorable comment for even one among the
+millions of his fore-parents who have lived through nearly three
+centuries of his country's history. In them he is credited with no
+heritage of valor, he is mentioned only as a slave, while true
+historical records prove him to have been among the bravest of
+soldiers and a faithful producer of the nation's wealth. Though then a
+slave to the government, the negro's was the first blood shed in its
+defence in those days when a foreign foe threatened its destruction.
+In each and all of the American wars the negro was faithful, yes,
+faithful in battle while members of his race were being lynched to
+death; faithful to a land<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> not his own in points of rights and
+freedom, all and that after he had enriched with his own life's blood,
+shouldered his musket to defend, when all this was done, regarded him
+with renewed terms, Black, Negro.</p>
+
+<p>Last but not least the negro needs a daily newspaper in every large
+city, managed and edited by members of the race.</p>
+
+<p>Such papers are needed to deal with questions of state and reflect the
+thoughts of the social world, to enter the province of ethics and
+tread the domain of morals and to give their opinion on the varying
+phases of religious truths and pass judgment on matters of a political
+nature.</p>
+
+<p>There are hidden wrongs perpetrated by the whites against the negro
+race that will never be brought to light until the race owns and
+controls its own daily newspapers which alone have the power to
+discover and enthrone truth, thus becoming a safe guide to all honest
+seekers of facts respecting the race whether from a moral,
+educational, political or religious field. To carry out the plans
+suggested, whether viewed from an intellectual, industrial,
+commercial, or editorial standpoint, the world must acknowledge that
+to-day the negro race has the men and women, who are true to their
+race and all that stands for negro progress. </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="HISTORICAL_COMPOSITION" id="HISTORICAL_COMPOSITION"></a>HISTORICAL COMPOSITION</h2>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>ANNIE L. BURTON </h3>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>It is only 132 years ago to-day that the British troops, who had
+  occupied Boston, made a riding school of the Old South church, and
+  otherwise sacrilegiously disported themselves, were persuaded to get
+  out under the compulsion of the batteries set up on Dorchester
+  Heights. But when the last company embarked for Halifax, it carried
+  the last British flag ever unfurled by a military organization on
+  Massachusetts soil. That was the end of foreign domination in
+  Massachusetts. And by a happy coincidence this is the legendary
+  anniversary of the birth of St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland,
+  whose memory has been an inspiration in the struggle of another race
+  for Liberty.</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p>
+<h3>A QUESTION OF ETHICS</h3>
+
+
+<p>New York, Dec. 17.&mdash;Andrew Carnegie declared yesterday in a speech on
+the negro question that the negroes are a blessing to America, and
+that their presence in the South makes this country impregnable and
+without need of a navy to defend itself.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose," said Mr. Carnegie, "Great Britain were to send her war
+fleets to America. It would amount to nothing. All that the President
+of the United States would have to do would be to say, 'Stop exporting
+cotton.' The war would be ended in four days, for England cannot do
+without our cotton.</p>
+
+<p>"We don't need a navy; we are impregnable. Because we have 9,000,000
+colored men anxious and willing to work we hold this strong position,
+and I am interested in the negro from this material standpoint, as
+well as from the more humane point of view."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="MY_FAVORITE_POEMS" id="MY_FAVORITE_POEMS"></a>MY FAVORITE POEMS</h2>
+
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<h3>&nbsp;</h3>
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">On a green slope, most fragrant with the Spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One sweet, fair day I planted a red rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That grew, beneath my tender nourishing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So tall, so riotous of bloom, that those<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who passed the little valley where it grew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Smiled at its beauty. All the air was sweet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About it! Still I tended it, and knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That he would come, e'en as it grew complete.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And a day brought him! Up I led him, where<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the warm sun my rose bloomed gloriously&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Smiling and saying, Lo, is it not fair?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all for thee&mdash;all thine! But he passed by<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Coldly, and answered, Rose? I see no rose,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Leaving me standing in the barren vale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alone! alone! feeling the darkness close<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Deep o'er my heart, and all my being fail.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then came one, gently, yet with eager tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begging one rose-bud&mdash;but my rose was dead.<br />
+</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The old, old Wind that whispers to old trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Round the dark country when the sun has set,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goes murmuring still of unremembered seas<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And cities of the dead that men forget&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An old blind beggar-man, distained and gray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With ancient tales to tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mumbling of this and that upon his way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strange song and muttered spell&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Neither to East or West, or South or North,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His habitation lies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This roofless vagabond who wanders forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Aye under alien skies&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gypsy of the air, he comes and goes<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Between the tall trees and the shadowed grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what he tells only the twilight knows ...<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The tall trees and the twilight hear him pass.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To him the Dead stretch forth their strengthless hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He who campaigns in other climes than this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He who is free of the Unshapen Lands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The empty homes of Dis.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Out of the scattered fragments<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of castles I built in the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I gathered enough together<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To fashion a cottage with care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thoughtfully, slowly, I planned it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And little by little it grew&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perfect in form and in substance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Because I designed it for you.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The castles that time has shattered<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gleamed spotless and pearly white<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As they stood in the misty distance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That borders the Land of Delight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sleeping and waking I saw them<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Grow brighter and fairer each day;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, alas! at the touch of a finger<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">They trembled and crumbled away!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then out of the dust I gathered<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A bit of untarnished gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a gem unharmed by contact<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With stones of a baser mold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For sometimes a priceless jewel<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gleams wondrously pure and fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From glittering paste foundations<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of castles we see in the air.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So, I turned from the realms of fancy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As remote as the stars above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And into the land of the living<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I carried the jewel of love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mansions of dazzling brightness<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Have crumbled away, it is true;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But firm upon gold foundations<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stands the cottage I built for you!<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How could the hand be enemy of the arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or seed and sod be rivals? How could light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or competition dwell 'twixt lip and smile?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are we not part and parcel of yourselves?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like strands in one great braid we intertwine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And make the perfect whole. You could not be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless we gave you birth: we are the soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From which you sprang, yet sterile were that soil<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One woman bore a child with no man's aid, <br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We find no record of a man-child born<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but a small achievement at the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While motherhood is heaven and hell.)<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This ever-growing argument of sex<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is most unseemly, and devoid of sense.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why waste more time in controversy, when<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is not time enough for all of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our rightful occupation in this life?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why prate of our defects&mdash;of where we fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When just the story of our worth would need<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eternity for telling; and our best<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Development comes ever through your praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As through our praise you reach your highest self?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! had you not been miser of your praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let our virtues be their own reward,<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span><span class="i0">The old established order of the world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would never have been changed. Small blame is ours<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For this unsexing of ourselves, and worse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Effeminizing of the male. We were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Content, sir, till you starved us, heart and brain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All we have done, or wise or otherwise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traced to the root, was done for love of you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let us taboo all vain comparisons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And go forth as God meant us, hand in hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Companions, mates and comrades evermore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two parts of one divinely ordained whole.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A widow had two sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And one knelt at her knees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sought to give her joy<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And toiled to give her ease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He heard his country's call<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And longed to go, to die<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If God so willed, but saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her tears and heard her sigh.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A widow had two sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One filled her days with care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And creased her brow and brought<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her many a whitened hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His country called&mdash;he went.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor thought to say good-by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And recklessly he fought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And died as heroes die.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A widow had two sons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">One fell as heroes fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one remained and toiled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And gave to her his all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She watched "her hero's" grave<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In dismal days and fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And told the world her love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Her heart was buried there.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Our Mission</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the legends of the Norsemen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stories quaint and weird and wild,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There's a strange and thrilling story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of a mother and her child.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that child, so runs the story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In those quaint old Norsemen books,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell one day from dangerous play ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Dashed in pieces on the rocks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with gentle hand that mother<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gathered every tender part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bore them gently, torn and bleeding,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On her loving mother heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And within her humble dwelling,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Strong in faith and brave of soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With her love-song low and tender<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rocked and sang the fragments whole.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such the mission of the Christian,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Taught by Christ so long ago;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This the mark that bids us stay not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This the spirit each should know:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rent and torn by sin the race is,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Heart from heart, and soul from soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This our task with Christ's sweet love-song,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Join, and heal, and make them whole.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span style="margin-left:21em;">&mdash;<i>Rev. E. M. Bartlett</i></span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>Verses</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Lord over all! Whose power the sceptre swayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ere first Creation's wondrous form was framed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When by His will Divine all things were made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then, King, Almighty was His name proclaimed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When all shall cease&mdash;the universe be o'er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In awful greatness He alone will reign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who was, Who is, and Who will evermore<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In glory most refulgent still remain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sole God! unequalled and beyond compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Without division or associate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without commencing date, or final year,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Omnipotent He reigns in awful state.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He is my God! my living Savior He!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My sheltering Rock in sad misfortune's hour!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My standard, refuge, portion, still shall be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My lot's disposer when I seek His power.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Into His hands my spirit I consign<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whilst wrapped in sleep, that I again may wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with my soul, my body I resign;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Lord's with me&mdash;no fears my soul can shake.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+<h3>THE CREATION</h3>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>ANNIE L. BURTON</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The earth, the firmament on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all the blue ethereal sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were made by God's creative power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Six thousand years ago or more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, too, was formed to till the ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Birds, beasts, and fish to move around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fish to swim, the birds to fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all to praise the Love most high.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This world is round, wise men declare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hung on nothing in the air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon around the earth doth run;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The earth moves on its center, too;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The earth and moon around the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As wheels and tops and pulleys do.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Water and land make up the whole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From East to West, from pole to pole.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Vast mountains rear their lofty heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rivers roll down their sandy beds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all join in one grand acclaim<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To praise the Lord's almighty name.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_03.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="49" /></p>
+<h2><a name="MY_FAVORITE_HYMNS" id="MY_FAVORITE_HYMNS"></a>MY FAVORITE HYMNS</h2>
+
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/image_04.jpg" alt="Decorative Image" width="600" height="48" /></p>
+<h3>&nbsp;</h3>
+<h3>The Ninety and Nine</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There were ninety and nine that safely lay<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the shelter of the fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But one was out on the hills away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Far-off from the gates of gold&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away on the mountains lone and bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Away from the tender Shepherd's care.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are they not enough for Thee?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the Shepherd made answer: "This of mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has wandered away from me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, although the road be rough and steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I go to the desert to find my sheep."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But none of the ransomed ever knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How deep were the waters crossed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor how dark was the night that the Lord passed through<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ere he found His sheep that was lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out in the desert he heard the cry&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sick and helpless, and ready to die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That mark out the mountain's track?"<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span><span class="i0">"They were shed for one who had gone astray<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Ere the Shepherd could bring him back."<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"They are pierced tonight by many a thorn."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But all through the mountains, thunder-riven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And up from the rocky steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There arose a glad cry to the height of heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Rejoice! I have found my sheep!"<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the angels echoed around the throne:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>My Faith looks up to Thee</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My faith looks up to Thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou Lamb of Calvary,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Saviour divine!<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">Now hear me while I pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take all my guilt away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, let me from this day<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Be wholly Thine.<br />
+</span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">May Thy rich grace impart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strength to my fainting heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">My zeal inspire;<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">As Thou hast died for me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, may my love to Thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pure, warm, and changeless be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A living fire.<br />
+</span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When ends life's transient dream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When death's cold, sullen stream<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Shall o'er me roll,<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">Blest Saviour, then, in love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fear and distrust remove;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, bear me safe above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A ransomed soul.<br />
+</span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Jordan's Strand</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My days are gliding swiftly by,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I, a pilgrim stranger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would not detain them as they fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Those hours of toil and danger.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Chorus</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For, O we stand on Jordan's strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our friends are passing over;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, just before, the shining shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We may almost discover!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our heavenly home discerning;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our absent Lord has left us word,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">"Let every lamp be burning."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Should coming days be cold and dark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We need not cease our singing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That perfect rest nought can molest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where golden harps are ringing.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let sorrow's rudest tempest blow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each cord on earth to sever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our King says, "Come!" and there's our home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Forever, O forever.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Over the Line</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O tender and sweet was the Master's voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As he lovingly call'd to me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Come over the line, it is only a step&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am waiting my child, for thee.<br />
+&quot;</span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Refrain</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Over the line," hear the sweet refrain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Angels are chanting the heavenly strain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Over the line,"&mdash;Why should I remain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a step between me and Jesus?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But my sins are many, my faith is small,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lo! the answer came quick and clear;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"Thou needest not trust in thyself at all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Step over the line, I am here."<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But my flesh is weak, I tearfully said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the way I cannot see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I fear if I try I may sadly fail,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And thus may dishonor Thee.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Ah, the world is cold, and I cannot go back<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Press forward I surely must;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I will place my hand in his wounded palm<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Step over the line, and trust.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>O could I speak the Matchless Worth</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O could I speak the matchless worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O could I sound the glories forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Which in my Saviour shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd soar, and touch the heav'nly strings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vie with Gabriel while he sings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In notes almost divine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I'd sing the precious blood He spilt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My ransom from the dreadful guilt<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of sin and wrath divine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I'd sing His glorious righteousness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which all-perfect, heavenly dress<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My soul shall ever shine.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I'd sing the characters He bears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the forms of love He wears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Exalted on His throne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I would to everlasting days<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Make all His glories known.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Well, the delightful day will come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When my dear Lord will bring me home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I shall see His face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with my Saviour, Brother, Friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A blest eternity I'll spend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Triumphant in His grace.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>O God, beneath Thy Guiding Hand</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O God, beneath Thy guiding hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our exiled fathers cross'd the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when they trod the wintry strand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With pray'r and psalm they worshipp'd Thee.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou heard'st, well pleased, the song, the prayer:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy blessing came and still its power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall onward through all ages bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The memory of that holy hour.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came with those exiles o'er the waves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And where their pilgrim feet have trod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The God they trusted guards their graves.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And here Thy name, O God of love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Their children's children shall adore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till these eternal hills remove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spring adorns the earth no more.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<h3>America</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My country, 'tis of thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sweet land of liberty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of thee I sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land where my fathers died,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of the pilgrim's pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From every mountain side<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Let freedom ring.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">My native country, thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Land of the noble free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy name I love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I love thy rocks and rills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy woods and templed hills;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My heart with rapture thrills<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like that above.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let music swell the breeze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ring from all the trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sweet freedom's song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let mortal tongues awake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let all that breathe partake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let rocks their silence break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The sound prolong.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Our fathers' God to Thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Author of liberty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To Thee we sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long may our land be bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With freedom's holy light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Protect us with Thy might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Great God our King.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<h3>In the Cross of Christ I Glory</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the cross of Christ I glory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towering o'er the wrecks of time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All the light of sacred story<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Gathers round its head sublime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the woes of life o'ertake me,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hopes deceive and fears annoy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Never shall the cross forsake me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lo! it glows with peace and joy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the sun of bliss is beaming<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Light and love upon my way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the cross the radiance streaming,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Add more luster to the day.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By the cross are sanctified;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peace is there that knows no measure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Joys that through all time abide.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Pilgrim thro' this barren land;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am weak, but Thou art mighty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hold me with Thy pow'rful hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bread of heaven,<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">Feed me till I want no more.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Open now the crystal fountain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whence the healing waters flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let the fiery, cloudy pillar<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lead me all my journey through;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strong Deliverer,<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">Be Thou still my strength and shield.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When I tread the verge of Jordan,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bid my anxious fears subside;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bear me through the swelling current,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Land me safe on Canaan's side;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Songs of praises<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">I will ever give to Thee.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Christ receiveth Sinful Men</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sinners Jesus will receive;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Sound this word of grace to all<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who the heav'nly pathway leave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">All who linger, all who fall.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Chorus</i></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sing it o'er and o'er again:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Christ receiveth sinful men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Make the message clear and plain:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Christ receiveth sinful men.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Come, and He will give you rest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Trust Him, for His word is plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He will take the sinfulest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Christ receiveth sinful men.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Christ receiveth sinful men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Even me with all my sin;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Purged from ev'ry spot and stain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Heav'n with Him I enter in.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<h3>Some Day the Silver Cord will break</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some day the silver cord will break,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I no more as now shall sing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, O, the joy when I shall wake<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Within the palace of the King!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And I shall see Him face to face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell the story&mdash;Saved by grace.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some day my earthly house will fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I cannot tell how soon 'twill be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But this I know&mdash;my All in All<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has now a place in heaven for me.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some day; till then I'll watch and wait,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My lamp all trimmed and burning bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That when my Saviour ope's the gate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">My soul to Him may take its flight.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<h3>Battle Hymn of the Republic</h3>
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hath loos'd the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His truth is marching on.<br />
+</span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I can read His righteous sentence in the dim and flaring lamps;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His day is marching on.<br />
+</span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel,<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you My grace shall deal&quot;;<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">Let the hero born of woman crush the serpent with his heel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Since God is marching on.<br />
+</span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never sound retreat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant, my feet!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Our God is marching on.<br />
+</span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">While God is marching on.<br />
+</span></div></div>
+<hr style="width:65%" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Memories of Childhood's Slavery Days, by 
+Annie L. Burton
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILDHOOD'S SLAVERY DAYS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 17864-h.htm or 17864-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/6/17864/
+
+Produced by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_01.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_01.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b3872f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_01.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_02.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_02.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eb11375
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_02.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_03.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_03.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30076ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_03.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_04.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_04.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5759679
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_04.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_05.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_05.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..848360a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_05.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_06.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_06.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..93086bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_06.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_07.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_07.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69d3891
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_07.jpg
diff --git a/17864-h/images/image_08.jpg b/17864-h/images/image_08.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..82daa6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/17864-h/images/image_08.jpg
author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:52:02 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:52:02 -0700
commit	09c6f19015444eccac49209672228c5c64ec8f8b (patch)
tree	69a7c1cd456503143b707f19911047613ebd8f4e /17864-h