When daylight has departed, and the very air seems hanging in
stillness over the plantation, a great whispering is heard in Dad
Daniel's cabin-the head quarters, where grave matters of state, or
questions affecting the moral or physical interests of the
plantation, are discussed, and Dad Daniel's opinion held as most
learned-the importance of which over the other cabins is denoted by
three windows, one just above the door being usually filled with
moss or an old black hat. Singular enough, on approaching the cabin
it is discovered that Daniel has convoked a senate of his sable
brethren, to whom he is proposing a measure of great importance.
"Da'h new precher, gemen! is one ob yer own colur-no more Buckra
what on'e gib dat one sarmon,--tank God fo'h dat!-and dat colour
geman, my children, ye must look up to fo'h de word from de good
book. Now, my bredren, 'tis posin' on ye dat ye make dat geman
'spectable. I poses den, dat we, bredren, puts in a mite apiece, and
gib dat ar' geman new suit ob fus' bes'clof', so 'e preach fresh and
clean," Dad Daniel is heard to say. And this proposition is carried
out on the following morning, when Daddy Daniel-his white wool so
cleanly washed, and his face glowing with great
good-nature-accompanied by a conclave of his sable companions,
presents himself in the front veranda, and demands to see "missus."
That all-conciliating personage is ever ready to receive
deputations, and on making her appearance, and receiving the usual
salutations from her people, receives from the hand of that
venerable prime minister, Daddy Daniel, a purse containing twelve
dollars and fifty cents.
Pages:
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597