Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 81, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 April 1912 — MISS MINERVA and WILLIAM GREEN Hill [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

MISS MINERVA and WILLIAM GREEN Hill

By FRANCES BOYD CALHOUN

(Copyright, by Reilly & Britton Co.)

CHAPTER Vl!.—Continued.

About this time the defrauded fowl Jew from her nest and attempted to get out by her rightful exit Finding it stopped up by a wriggling, BQuirming body she perched herself on the little boy’s neck and flapped her enraged wings in his face. ’•Pull!” yelled the child again, “help me th'oo, Billy, fore, this fool chicken pecks all the meat off "m my bones.” Billy grabbed the sticky limbs and gave a valient tug. but the body did not, move an inch. Alaß, Jimmy with his cargo of broken eggs was fast imprisoned. “Pull again!” yelled the scared and angry child, “you bout the idjetest idjet they is if you can’t do no better •fc that” Billy Jerked with all hiß strength, but with no visible result. “Pull harder! You no-count gump!” screamed the prisoner, beating off the hen with his hands. The boy on the outside, who was strong for his years, braced himself and gave a mighty wrench of the other child’s stout extremities. Jimmy howled in pain and gave his friend an energetic kick. “Lemme go!” he Shrieked, “you old impe’dunt backbiter. I’m going to tell Miss Minerva you pulled my legs out by the roots.” A small portion of the prisoner’s blouse was visible. Billy caught hold of it and gave a strong Jerk. There was a sound of ripping and tearing and the older boy fell sprawling on his back with a goodly portion of the younger child’s raiment in his hands. “Now see what yon done,” yelled the victim of his energy, “you ain’t got the sense of a buffalo gnat Oh, oh! This hole is bout to cut my stomach open.” “Hush, Jimmy!” warned the other child. “Don’t make so much noise. Aunt Minerva ’ll hear you.” “I want her to hear me,” screamed Jimmy. “You ’d like me to stay stuck in a chicken hole all night. Ob! oh! oh!” The noise did indeed bring Billy’s aunt out on a tour of investigation. She had to knock a plank off the henhouse with an axe before Jimmy’s release could be accomplished. He was lifted down, red, angry, Bticky, and perspiring, and was indeed a sight to behold. “Billy got to all time perpose something to get little boys in trouble,” he growled, “and got to all time get ’em stuck in a hole in a chicken house.” “My nephew’s name 1b William.” corrected she. “You perposed this here yo’self!” cried an Indignant Billy. “Me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln don’ know nothin’ ’t all bout no rabbit’s eggs sence we’s born.” “It doesn’t matter it,” said his aunt firmly. “You are going to be punished, William. 1 have Just finished one of your night-shirts. Come with me and put it on and go to bed. Jimmy, you go home and show yourself to your mother." - "Pick up yo’ shirt-tail offer the groun’ what I tore off, Jimmy,” advised Billy, "an’ take It home to yo' ma. Aunt Minerva,” he pleaded, following mournfully behind her, “please don’t put me to bed; the major he don’ go to bed no daytimes; I won’t never get me no mo* eggs to make rabbit’s eggs outer.” CHAPTER VIII. Tellers of Tales. The days flew rapidly by. Miss Minerva usually attempted to train Billy all the morning, and by the midday dinner hour she wjj£ so exhausted that she was glad to n?r him play in the front yard during the afternoon. Here he was often joined by the three children whose acquaintance he had made the day after his arrival, and the quartet became staunch friends and chums. All four were sitting in the swing one warm spring day, under the surveillance of Billy’a aunt, sewing on the veranda. “Let’s tell tales,” suggested Jimmy. “All right,” agreed Frances. “I’ll tell the first Once there’s-—” “Naw, you ain’t neither,” interrupted Jhe little boy. “You ail time talking boat you going to tell the first tale. I’m going to tell the first tale myself One time they ’s——” “No, you are not either,” said Una positively. “Frances is a girl and she ought to be the first if she wants to. Don’t you think so, Billy?” "Yas. I does," championed he; “go on, iPrances.” i That little girl, thus encouraged, proceeded to tell the first tale: “Once there 's a man named Mr. Elisha, and he had a friend named Mr. Elijah, so his mantelpiece fell on top of his head And make him perfectly bald; he hasn't got a single hair and he hasn’t got any money, 'capfe-mama read me bout be rented his-garments, which is clo’es, 'cause he didn't hare nose at all what belong _to him. I s'pec' he Just rented him .a shirt and a pair o' breeches and wore 'em next to his hide ’thout no undershirt at all. He was dreatul poor and bad a miserble time and SMUI Mr. Per'dventure took him up ft a high mountain and left him. so

when he come down some bad- little children say, *Go long back, bald head!' and they make pock-mocks on him. Seems like everybody treat him bad, so he cuss ’em, so 1 never see anybody with a, bald head 'thout 1 run, ’cause I don’t want to get cussed. So two Teddy bears come out of the woods and ate up forty-two hunderd of 'em.” “Why, Frances,” reproved Lina, “you always get things wrong. I don’t believe they ate up that many children.” “Yes, they did too,” championed Jimmy, “ ’cause it’s in the Bible and Miss Cecilia ’splained all bout it to me, and she’s our Sunday school teacher and bout the bullyeat ’splalner they is. Them Teddy bears ate up bout a million chlliens, which is all the little boys and girls two Teddy bears can hold at a time." "I knows a man what ain’t got no hair 1 all on his head,” remarked Billy; "he’s a conjure-man an’ me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln been talkin’ to him ever sence we’s born an’ he ain't never cuss us, an’ I ain’t never got eat up by no Teddy bears neither. Huccome him to be bald? He’s ont in the fiel’ one day a’pickin’ cotton when he sees a tu’key buzzard an’ he talk to her like this: “ T say tu’key buzzard, I say. Who shall I see unexpected today?' “If she flop her wings three times you goin’ to see yo’ sweetheart, but this-here buzzard ain’t flop no wings 't all; she Jes’ lean over an’ th’ow up on his head an’ he been bald ever sence; ev’y single hair come out.” “Did you-all hear bout that ’Talian Dago that works on the section gang eating a buzzard?” asked Frances “Naw,” said Billy. “Did it make him sick?” v . \ “That it did,’’ she answered; “he sent for Doctor Sanford and tells him. ‘Me killa de big bird, me eat-a de big bird, de big bird make-a me seek.’ ’’ “Them Dagoes bout the funniest talking folks they is.” said Jimmy, “but they got to talk that way ’cause it’s in the Bible. They ‘sputed on the tower of Babel and the Lord say ‘Confound you!’ Miss Cecilia ’splained it all to me and she’s bout the dandtest ’splainer they is.” “You may tell your tale now, Jimmy,” said Lina. “I’m going to tell bout William Tell ’cause he’s in the Bible,” said Jim my. "Once they’s a man name’ ” “William Tell isn’t in the Bible.” declared Lina. “Yes, he is too,” contended the littie boy, “Miss Cecilia ’splained it to me. You all time setting yourself up

to know more'n me and Miss Cecilia. One time they’s a man name’ William Tell and he had a little boy what’s the cutest kid they is and the devil come long and temp’ him. Then the Lord say, ‘William Tell, you and Adam and Eve can taste everything they is in the garden ’cepting this one apple tree; you can get all the pears and bunnanas and peaches and grapes and oranges and plums and persimmons and scalybarks and fig leaves and ’bout a million other kinds of fruit if you want to, but don’t you tech a single apple.* And the devil temp' him and say he going to put bis cap on a pole and everybody got to bow down to it for a idol and if William Tell don’t bow down to it he got to shoot a apple for good or evil otTm. his little boy*B head. That’s all the little boy William TeH and Adam and Eve got, but he ain't going to fall down- and worship no gravy image on top a pole, so he put a tomahawk in his bosom and he tooken his bow and arruh and shot the apple plumb th’oo the middle and never swinge a hair of his head. And Eire nibble off the apple and give Adam the core, and Tine all Hm« ’gputlQg 'bOUt Artnm m»A

Eve and WilMam Ten ain’t In the Bible. They're our first parents." "Now, Billy, you taH a tale and then if will be my time,” said Lina with a saving-the-best-for-the-last air. “Once they was a oT witch,” said Billy, “what got outer her skin ev’y night an’ lef’ it on the he’rth an' turnt herself to a great, big, black cat an’ go up the chim’ly an' go roun’ an’ ride folks, fW horses, an’ set on ev’ybody’s chis’ an’ suck they breath an’ kill ’em an’ then come back to bed. An’ can’t nobody ketch her tell one night her husban’ watch her an’ he see her jump outer her Akin an’ drop it on the he’rth an’ torn to a’normous black cat an' go up the chim’ly. An’ he got outer the bed an' put some salt an’ pepper an’ vinegar on the skin an’ she come back an’ turnt to a oman an’ try to git back in her Bkin an’ she can’t ’cause the salt an’ pepper an’ vinegar mos’ burn her up, an' she keep on a-tryin’ an’ she can’t never smiggle inter her skin ’cause it keep on a bumin’ worser *n ever, an’ there she is a ’oman ’thout no skin on. So she try to turn back to a cat an' she can’t ’cause it’s pas’ twelve erclock, an’ she jest swivvle an’ swiwle tell flne’ly she jest swivvle all up. An’ that was the las’ of the ole witch an’ her husban’ live happy ever after Amen.” ~ “Once upon a time,” said Lina, “there was a beautiful maiden and she was in love, but her wicked old parent wants her to marry a rich old man threescore and ten years old, which is ’most all the old you can get unless you are going to die; and the lovely princess, said, ‘No, father, you may cut me in the twain but I will never marry any bur my true love.’ So the wicked parent shut up the lovely maiden in a high tower many miles from the ground, and made her live on turnips and she had nothing else to eat; so one day when she was crying a little fairy flew in at the window and asked, ‘Why do you weep, fair one?' And she said, ‘A wicked, parent hath shut me up and I can’t ever see my lover any more.’ So the fairy touched her head with her wand and told her to hang her hair out of the window, and she did and it reached the ground, and her lover, holding a rope ladder in one hand and playing the guitar and singing with the other, climbed up by her hair and took her down on the ladder and his big black horse was standing near, all booted and spurred, and they rode away and lived happy ever after.” “How he goin’ to clam’ op, Lina,” asked Billy, “with a rope ladder in one hand and his guitar in the other?” “I don’t know,” was the dignified answer. “That Is the way it is told in my fairy-tale book.”

CHAPTER IX. Changing the Ethiopian. Billy and Jimmy were sitting in the swing. “What makes your hair curl just like a girl’s?” asked the latter. "It’s ’bout the curliest hair they is.” “Yes, it do/’ was Billy’s mournful response. "It done worry me ’mos’ to death. Ever sence me an’ Wilkes Booth Lincoln’s born we done try ev’thing fer to get the curl out. They

was a Yankee man came long las’ fall a-sellin’ some stuff in a bottle what he call ‘No-To-Kink’ what to say would take the kink outer any nigger’s head. An* Aunt Cindy bought a bottle fer to take the kink outer her hair an’ me an’ WilkeS Booth Lincoln put some on us heads an’ it jes’ make mine curlier’n what it was already. I’s ’shame’ to go roun' folks yith my cap off, a-lookin’ like a frizzly thicken. Miss Cecilia say she like it though, an' we's engaged. We’s goin' to git married soon’s I ptats on long pants.” "How long you been here, Billy?” asked the other boy. “Well, I don’t know perxactly, but I been tte Sunday-School four times. I got engaged to Miss Cecilia that very firs’ Sunday, but he did n' know it tell I went over to her housetto nex’ day an’ tol’ her Tbout it She say she think my hair is so pretty.” "Pretty nothin*/* sneered hla rival "She jus' stuffin' you fuller'n a tick with hot air. It just makes yon look like a girL There's a young lady come to spend a week with my m.». long ago and she put samepin’ on her head to make it right yel)er. She left the bottle to our house and I know

where * fa. Maybe If you'd put some o' that on your head twould take the curl out” “Taln’t nothin' a-goin' to do it no good,” gloomily replied Biljy. “ Twould jest make it yeller’n what Us now. Won't -! be a pretty sight when I puts on long pants with these here yaller curls stuck’ on topper my head? I’d ’nuther sight rather be bal'-headed.” "Bennie Dick’s got 'bout the kinkiest head they is.” . * Bennie Dick was the two-year-old baby of Mrs. Garner’s cook, Sarah Jane. “It sbo’ is/’ replied Billy Wouldn’t he look funny if he had yaller hair, ’cause his face is so black?" “I know where the bottle'is,” cried Jimmy, snatching eagerly at the suggestion. “Let’s go get it and put some ou Bennie Dick’s head and see if it'll turn it yeller.” "Aunt Minerva don' want me to go over to yo’ house,” objected Billy. “You all time talking bout Miss Minerva won’t let you go nowheres; . she sure is imperdunt to you. You ’bout the 'fraidest boy they is. . . . Come on. Billy,” pleaded Jimmy. The little boy hesitated. "I don’t want to git Aunt Minerva’s dander up any more’n I jest natchelly

boun’ to,” he said, following Jimmy reluctantly to the fence; "but I’ll jes' take a look at that bottle an' see es it looks anything ’t all like ‘No-To-Kinb’.’’ Giggling mightily, they Jumped the dividing fence and slipped with stealthy tread around the house to Sarah Jane’B cabin in the back-yard. Bennie Dick was sitting on the floor before the open door, the entrance of which was securely barricaded to keep him inside. Sarah Jane was in the kitchen cooking supper; they could hear her happy voice raised in religious melody; Mrs. Garner had not yet returned from a card party; the coast was clear, and the time propitious. Jimmy tiptoed to the house and soon returned with a big bottle of a powerful "blondine” in one hand and a stick of candy in the other. "Bennie Dick,” he said, "here’s a nice stick of candy for you if you'll let us wash your head.” The negro baby’s thick, red lips curved in a grin of delight, his shiny ebony face beamed happily, his round black eyes sparkled as he held out his fat, rusty little hands. He sucked greedily at the candy as the two mischievous little boys uncorked the bottle and poured a generous supply of the liquid on his head. They rubbed it in well, grinning with delight. They made a second and a third application before the bottle was exhausted; then they stood off to view the result of their efforts. The effect was ludicrous. The combination of coal black skin and red gold hair presented by the little negro exceeded the wildest expectations of Jimmy and Billy. They shrieked with laughter and rolled over and over on the floor in their unbounded delight. "Hush!" warned Jimmy suddenly, "I believe Sarah Jane’s coming out here to see ’bout Benny Dick. Let’s get, behind the door and see what’s she's going,- to do.” "‘Hit were good fer Paul an’ Silas, Hit were good fer Paul an’ Bi!as, Hit were good fer Paul an’ Silas, An’ hit’s good ernough fer me."* floated Sarah Jane’s song nearer and nearer. ‘‘‘Hit’s de old time erilgion, Hit’s de ole time’ ” She caught sight of her baby with his glistening black face and golden hair. Bhe threw up her hands, closed her eye 6, and uttered a terrified shriek. Presently she slowly opened her eyes and took a second peer at her curious-looking offspring. Sarah Jane screamed aloud: "Hit’s de handiwork er de great Jehoshaphat! Hit’s de Marster's sign. Who turnt yo’ hair, Benny Dick?” she asked of the sticky little pickaninny sitting happily on the floor. ‘‘ls a angel been here?" Benny Dick nodded his head with a delighted grin of comprehension. “Hit's de doing er de Lord,” .cried his mother. "He gwine turn my chile white an’ de done begunt on his head!” There was an ecstatic giggle from behind the door. Sarah Jane rushed inside as fast as her mammoth proportions would admit and caught a culprit in each huge black P*w. "What yer up ter now, JlmmyGarnerr she asked. "What yer been erdoing?" - Sudden suspicion entered her mind as she caaght sight of the empty bottle lying on a chair. "Tou been er-1 gnttin s ®Y

knows yer, Fs er-gwlne ter make yo* mammy gi’ ye de worses’ whippin’ yer eber got an' Fs gwine ter take dis here William right ober ter Miss Minerva. Ain’t y*all 'shame' er yerselves? Er tamperin’ wid de ha’r what de good Lord put on er colored pusson’s head an’ er-tryln' fer ter scarify my feelin’s like yer done. An' yer hear me, I’s gwine see dat somebody got ter scarify yer hides.* “If that ain’t Just, like you, Billy," said Jimmy, “you all time got to perpose to make nigger heads yeller and you all time getting little boys in trouble Yon bout the smart Alexlst Jackrabbit they is.’’ “You perposed this here hair business yo’self, Jimmy," retorted his fel-low-conspirator. “You's always blamin' yo’ meanness on somebody else ever sence you’s born.” "Hit don’t matter who perposed hit,” said Sarah Jane firmly; "meanness has been did, an’ y’ gotter be structified on de place pervided by hatur* fer ter let my chile erlone." < 1 11 CHAPTER X. Lo! The Poor Indiana Billy Bad just decided to ran down ‘to the livery stable to pay Sam Lamb

a visit when the gate opened, and Lina and Frances, their beloved dolls In their armß, came skipping in. Jimmy, who had had a difference with Billy and was in the sulks on his own side of the fence, immediately climbed over and Joined the others in the swing. He was lonesome and the prospect of companionship was too alluring for him to nurse his anger longer. “Aunt Minerva's gone to the Aid Society," remarked the host. “Don't y’ all wish it met ev’y day ’stid 'er jes’ nu.etin’ ev’y Monday?” “Yes I do,” agreed Frances, "you can hare so much fun when our mamas gc to the Aid. My mama’s gone too, so she left me with Brother and he's w:riting a love letter to Ruth Shelton, so I slipped offr" “Mother has gone to the Aid. too/’ said’ Lina. “My mama too,” chimed in Jimmy, “she goes to the Aid every Monday and to card parties nearly all the time. She telled Sarah Jane to 'tend to me and Sarah Jane’s asleep. I hear her snoring. Ain’t we glad there ain't no grown folks to meddle? Can’t we have fun?" “What’ll we play?” asked Frihces, who had deliberately stepped in a naud puddle splashed mud all over herself, “let’s make mud pies." “Naw, we ain’t a-going to make no mud pies/’ objected Jimmy. “We can make mud pies all time when grown folks 'r' looking at you.” "Let’s play sumpin’ what we ain’t never play, sense we’s born.” put in Billy. “I hope grandmother won’t miss me,” said Lina, "she’s reading a very interesting book.” "Let’s plan Injun!" yelled. Jimmy; "we ain’t never play’ Injun." Thiß suggestion was received with howls of delight “My mama's got a'box of red stuff that Bhe puts on her face when -she goes to card parties. She never puts none on when she just goes to the Aid. I can run home and get the box to make us red like Injunß,” said Frances. “My mother has a box of paint, too,” "I ain't never see Aunt Minerva put no red stuff on her face,” remarked Billy, disappointedly. "Miss Minerva, she don’t never let the Major come to see her, nor go to ■ no card parties, is the reason,” explained the younger boy, “she Just goes to the Aid where they ain’t no men, and you don’t hafter put no red on your face at the Aid. We’ll let you have some of our paint, Billy. My mama’s got 'bout a million dlff*ent kinds.” "We got to have pipes,” was Frances’s next suggestion. “My papa's got 'bout a million pipes,” boasted Jimmy, “hut he got ’em to the office, I spec’.” “Father has a meerschaum.” “Aunt Minerva ain’t get no pipe.” “Miss Minerva’s 'bout tbe curiousest woman they is," said Jimmy; “she ain’t got nothing a tall; she ain’t got no paint and she ain’t got no pipe.” "Ladies , don’t use pipes, and we can do without them anyway,” said Lina, “but we must have feathers; all Indians wear feathers.” ”111 get my- mama’s duster,” said "Me, too,” chimed in Frances. Here Billy with flying colors came va's waning reputation. "Amt Minerva’s got a gnat. Ms

buneker tu’key feathers an* I can git ’em right now,” and the little boy flew into the bouse and was back in a few seconds. “We must have blankets, of course * said lAua, with the air of one whose word is law; "mother has a genuine Navaj^.” “I got a little bow’narruh what Santa Claus bringed me," put In Jimmy. Av“We can use hatchets for tomahawks,” continued the little girt ."Come on, Frances; let us go home and get our things and come back here to dress up. Run, Jimmy, get your things! Ton, too, Billy!" she commanded, The children ran breathlessly to their homes nearby and collected the different articles necessary to transform them Into presentable Indians. They soon returned, Jimmy dumping his load over the fence and tumbling after; and the happy quartette sat down on the grass in Miss Minerva’s yard. First the paint boxes were opened and generously ,shared with Billy, as with their handkerchiefs they spread thick layers of rouge over their charming, bright, mischievous littld faces. v The feather decoration was next in order. , “How we goin’ to make these feathers stick?" asked Billy. They were in a dilemma till the resourceful Jimmy came to the rescue. ‘Wait a minute,” he cried, "I’ll be back ’fore you can say ‘Jack Robinson’.’’ He tolled over the fence and was back in a few minutes, gleefully folding up a bottle. “This muedage ’ll make ’em Btiok," he panted, almost out of breath. Lina assumed charge of the headdresses. She took Billy first, rubbed the mneflsge well ihto his sunny curls, and filled his tread fall el his aunt’s turkey feathers, leaving them to stick out awkwardly in sll directions and; at all angles. Jimmy and France* after robbing their mothers’ dußteri, were similarly decorated, and last; Lina, herself, was tastefully arrayed by the combined efforts of the otto* three. At last all were in readiness. Billy, regardless of consequences, had pinned his aunt’s newest grey blanket around him and was viewing, with satisfied admiration, its long length trailing on the grass behind him; Lina had her mother’s treasured Navajo blanket draped around her graceful little figure; Frances, after pulling the covers off of several beds and finding nothing to suit her fanciful taste, had snatched a gorgeous Bilk afghan from the leather couch, in the library. It was an expensive affair of Intricate pattern, delicate stitches, and beautiful embroidery with a purple velvet border and a yellow satin lining. She had dragged one corner of it through the mud puddle and torn a big rent in another place. Jimmy was glorious in a bright red blanket, carrying his little hour and arrow. "I’m going to be the Injun chief, 1 * he boasted. “I’m going to be a Injun chief, too,* parroted Frances. “Chief, nothing!” he sneered, “you' all time trying to be a Injun chief. You ’bout the pompousest little girl they is. You can’t be a chief nohow; you got to be a squash, Injun ladies ,’r’ name’ squashes; me an’ Billy’s the chiefs. I’m name’ old Setting Bull, hi-self.” “You can't be named *Bull,' Jimmy," reproved Lina, "it isn’t genteel to say 'bull' before people.” "Yes, I am too.” he continued. “Setting 'Bull's the biggest chief they is and I’m going to be name’ him.” “Well, I am not going to"play then,* said Lina primly, “my mother wants me to be genteel, and ’bull’ la not genteel." “I tell you what, Jimmy," proposed Frances, “you be name’ ‘Setting Cow.* ‘Cow’ is genteel ’cause folks milk ’em." “Naw, I ain’t going to be name’ no cow, neither," retorted the little Indian, "you all time trying to ’suade somebody to be name’ ‘Setting Cow’.* "He can’t be name* a cow,’’—-Billy now entered the discussion--”’cause he ain’t no girL Why don’t you be name.’ ’Settln’ Steer'? Is ‘steer’ genteel, Lina?” he anxiously inquired. “Yes. be can be named ‘Sitting Steer’," she granted. Jimmy agreeing to the compromise, peace was once more restored. “Frances and Lina got to be the squashes " he began. “It isn’t ‘squashes/ it Is ‘squaws/* corrected Lina. “Yes, ’tis squashes too,” persisted Jimmy, “'cause it's in the Bible and Miss Cecilia 'splained it to me and site’s ’bout the hlgh-stepplngest 'splainer they is. Me and Billy is the chiefs,” he shouted, capering around, "and you and Frances is the squashes and got to have papooses Btrop’ to your back."• » “Bennie Dick can be a papoose,* suggested Billy. , “I’m not going to be a Injun squash If I got to have a nigger papoose strapped to my back;* cried an indignant Frances. “Yon can strap him to your own back, Billy.” “But I ain't no squash.” objected that little Indian. “We can have our dolls for papooses,” said Lina, going, to the Swings where the dolis had been left. Billy pulled a piece of string from hla pocket and the babies were safely strapped to their mothers* backs. With stately bead, headed by Sitting Steer, the children marched baqk and forth across the lawn la Indian Ilia So absorbed were they In playing Indian that they forgot the flight of time nntU their chief suddenly stopped, all Ms brave valor gone as be pointed with trembling finger up

The Defrauded Fowl Flew From Her Neat.

"I’m Going to Be an Indian Chief,” He Boasted.