Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 December 1880 — Induced to Chew. [ARTICLE]

Induced to Chew.

“I never tried to chew tobacco but once,” remarked the Rev. Mr. Bodwell. “I shall never forget the circumstance.” “Tell us about it,” remarked a young lady, who, a few moments before had been baptized by the reverend gentleman. “I was a very small bov at the time, and was a great favorite of Daniel, a colored man, owned by my father. I used to go out to Dan’s cabin at night and listen to his ghost stories until I was afraid to cross the yard to the big house, as the negroes termed our residence. One night, when the wind scattered the snowflakes around the old cabin, and while several large sweet potatoes roasted in the fire, I sat with old Daniel. No one who has been raised among colored people can fox-get the comfort of sitting around the cabin fire. The old spinningwheel, the hamper baskets in the corner, the red bedsteads, and the dug-out cradle, all come back and defy the influence of glowing furniture and soft rugs. Dan was strikingly communicative on the night in question. We had killed hogs that day, and the truth is, old Dan had been drinking. “‘Tom,’ remarked the old man, ‘yer don’ chaw terbarker, does yer?’ “‘No, sir.’ “ £Dat’s a pity. A boy who doesn’t chaw terbarker never will be a man. I will bet yer can’t spit ober dat backlog. Try hit. ’ ” “I ti-ied, and failed signally.” “ ‘Dar now. Doan yer know dat a boy what can’t spit never will be a man ? Haben’ yer eber noticed how a man will spit ?’ “ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘ ‘Wall, wouldn’t yer like to place yersef on de record, an’ learn ter spit like a white man ?’ ‘ ‘ ‘Yes, sir. ’ “ ‘Wall, lieah, take dis’,’” and he cut a. piece of tobacco fi-om a lai-ge twist. “ ‘Smack dat in yer mout’, an’ chaw while der taters is roastin’.’ “I obeyed, and in a few moments could spit like a man. ” “ ‘Come down on hit savage,’ he said. ‘Hit hard. Watch me,’ and he chewed vigorously. The fire grew excessively warm. I looked around, and the hamper baskets seemed to be tumbling over each other. “ ‘Doan spit hit out. Hit savage. Chaw hard. De victory is in sight. Is yer sick ?’ “ ‘No, sir, but—but—.’ I had eaten a hearty supper, but within three minutes from the time I threw out the tobacco I was as empty as one of the hamper baskets, and as limber as the spinningwheel band. Dan spread a blanket on the floor, and, as I dozed off to sleep, I heard him blowing the ashes from the potatoes. I never have taken another chew.”— Little Rock Gazette.