Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 May 1894 — THE LIMEKILN CLUB. [ARTICLE]

THE LIMEKILN CLUB.

Brother Gardner Discourses Upon Hygiene. When the routine business of the last meeting of the Limekiln Club had been finished Brother Gardner arose and said: “I hev a letter from de Stait B’od of Health of Arkansaw inquarin’ if it am my opinyun, based on observashun, dat de cull’d man has made any progress in de matter of hygiene doorin’ do las’ five y’ars. I shall instruct de secretary to reply to de effect dat he has made a heap of progress an’ am gittin dar wid boas feet. Time was when de cull’d man did’nt know dat he had any constitushun, system or health, but yo’ can’t fool him no mo’.

“Ten y’ars ago if Samuel Shin had bin told dat it was onhealthy to sleep in a close room, with three dawgs under de bed an’ a bar’l o’ soap grease in a co’ner, he would hev smiled wid contempt. It was only arter he had lost his left lung an’ had his right knee sprung out of shape dat he began to study de laws of health an’ drive de dawgs out doahs. I kin remember callin’ at de cabin of Shindig Watkins a few y’ars ago. Dar was nine pussons, fo’ dawgs, a guinea hen an’ two cats in de family, an’ dey was all asleep in one room. Brudder Watkins got up wid a headache, an’ when I hinted at de laws of health he looked at me in de greatest astonishment. Ten y’ars ago, if Giveadam Jones had found asl bill in de road, he would hev bought a watermillyon an’ swallerd half de seeds an’ gnawed clean down to de bark. Den he would hev heaved in a dozen harvest apples, six plums, a quart of cherries, three bananas an’ a few pears. Dar would still hev existed a vacuum, an’ he would hev filled it wid a cocoanut, a dish of ice cream an’ about a quart of lemonade. “He would hev gone to bed as peart as yo’ please, an’ had he woke up at midnight wid de feelin’ dat wolves was bitin’ him an’ elephants walkin’ on him, he would hev claimed dat it was all on account of his wife wantin’ a new pa’r o’ shoes.

“I kin remember goin’ by de cabin of Waydown Bebee and seein’ his picaninnies a-playin’ in de yard among slops, bones, cabbage stalks, dishcloths, fish heads, chicken feathers, old boots, bottles, cansan’ sich. When I leaned ober de gate an’ spoke of hygiene, Brudder Bebee got mad an’ wouldn’t pay me de borrowed money I had cum arter, an’ I shouldn’t hev got it to dis day had 1 not threatened him wid a lickin’. He thought it hardened de chile, an’ he looked upon me as an old crank. “Up to five or six years ago no cull’d pussen suspected he had a stomach. He sorter imagined his food dropped down somewhar, but he neither knew nor cared whar. De idea was to keep de cavity full, an’ it didn’t make much difference wid what. One day I found Brudder Artichoke Johnson lyin’ out back of my cabin. He was jest de sickest man I eber saw, an’ he claimed he had been bit by a rattlesnake. It didn’t take me long to find out what was de matter. He had eaten turnips, onions, tomatoes, cabbages an’ cowcumbers from my garden till de billyous colic was pullin’ him apart. I lifted him up an’ hooted him out into de road, an’ explained de laws of health to him, but it was a hull y’ar befo’ he would accept my statements.

“Yes, I am glad to say, de cull’d people of dis kentry hev made rapid progress doorin’ de las’ few y’ars in de matter of hygiene, an’ from dis on dey will go ahead jest as fast as white folks. Take de flattestheaded niggar in de kentry, an’ if he finds a bottle of medicine in de road does he pull out de cork an’ imbibe de contents ? Not much he used to do so, but he’s heard about hygiene. He jest puts dat bottle in his pocket till he meets up wid a doctor an’ finds out whether its port wine or boss medicine. We doan’ sleep wid our feet out of de winder no mo’. We doan’ soak our heads in ice water to cure chilblains. We doan’ sleep in a feather bed with two blankets ober us in summer to keep consumption away, an’ we has diskivered seven or eight ears of green co’n at a meal am plenty ’null to keep de liver in good order. We am gettin’ along an’ five y’ars hence we will be able to take kcer of ourselves, an’ perhaps giv de white man some p’inters to boot.— [St. Louis Republic.