She was young and pretty when the war ended,
and has had many offers of marriage; but a vision of a cold white
face, with its fair hair dabbled in blood, is ever in her heart. So
Diddie lives for her boy. Their home is in Natchez now; for of course
they could never live in the old place any more. When the slaves were
free, they had no money to rebuild the houses, and the plantation has
never been worked since the war.
The land is just lying there useless, worthless; and the squirrels
play in and out among the trees, and the mocking-birds sing in the
honeysuckles and magnolias and rose-bushes where the front yard used
to be.
And at the quarters, where the happy slave-voices used to sing "Monkey
Motions," and the merry feet used to dance to "Cotton-eyed Joe," weeds
and thick underbrush have all grown up, and partridges build their
nests there; and sometimes, at dusk, a wild-cat or a fox may be seen
stealing across the old playground.
Tot, long years ago, before the war even, when she was yet a pure,
sinless little girl, was added to that bright band of angel children
who hover around the throne of God; and so she was already there, you
see, to meet and welcome her "papa" when his stainless soul went up
from Malvern Hill.
Well, for "Mammy" and "Daddy Jake" and "Aunt Milly" and "Uncle Dan'l,"
"dat angel" has long since "blowed de horn," and I hope and believe
they are happily walking "dem golden streets" in which they had such
implicit faith, and of which they never wearied of telling.
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