The Colonels Dream | Page 9

the lot and stood looking
at him.
When the old man became aware of their presence, he straightened
himself up with the slow movement of one stiff with age or rheumatism
and threw them a tentatively friendly look out of a pair of faded eyes.
"Howdy do, uncle," said the colonel. "Will you tell me whose graves
these are that you are caring for?"
"Yas, suh," said the old man, removing his battered hat
respectfully--the rest of his clothing was in keeping, a picturesque
assortment of rags and patches such as only an old Negro can get
together, or keep together--"dis hyuh lot, suh, b'longs ter de fambly dat
I useter b'long ter--de ol' French fambly, suh, de fines' fambly in
Beaver County."
"Why, papa!" cried little Phil, "he means----"
"Hush, Phil! Go on, uncle."

"Yas, suh, de fines' fambly in Cla'endon, suh. Dis hyuh headstone hyuh,
suh, an' de little stone at de foot, rep'esents de grave er ol' Gin'al French,
w'at fit in de Revolution' Wah, suh; and dis hyuh one nex' to it is de
grave er my ol' marster, Majah French, w'at fit in de Mexican Wah, and
died endyoin' de wah wid de Yankees, suh."
"Papa," urged Phil, "that's my----"
"Shut up, Phil! Well, uncle, did this interesting old family die out, or is
it represented in the present generation?"
"Lawd, no, suh, de fambly did n' die out--'deed dey did n' die out! dey
ain't de kind er fambly ter die out! But it's mos' as bad, suh--dey's
moved away. Young Mars Henry went ter de Norf, and dey say he's got
rich; but he ain't be'n back no mo', suh, an' I don' know whether he's
ever comin' er no."
"You must have been very fond of them to take such good care of their
graves," said the colonel, much moved, but giving no sign.
"Well, suh, I b'longed ter de fambly, an' I ain' got no chick ner chile er
my own, livin', an' dese hyuh dead folks 'pears mo' closer ter me dan
anybody e'se. De cullud folks don' was'e much time wid a ole man w'at
ain' got nothin', an' dese hyuh new w'ite folks wa't is come up sence de
wah, ain' got no use fer niggers, now dat dey don' b'long ter nobody no
mo'; so w'en I ain' got nothin' e'se ter do, I comes roun' hyuh, whar I
knows ev'ybody and ev'ybody knows me, an' trims de rose bushes an'
pulls up de weeds and keeps de grass down jes' lak I s'pose Mars
Henry'd 'a' had it done ef he'd 'a' lived hyuh in de ole home, stidder
'way off yandah in de Norf, whar he so busy makin' money dat he done
fergot all 'bout his own folks."
"What is your name?" asked the colonel, who had been looking closely
at the old man.
"Peter, suh--Peter French. Most er de niggers change' dey names after
de wah, but I kept de ole fambly name I wuz raise' by. It wuz good 'nuff
fer me, suh; dey ain' none better."

"Oh, papa," said little Phil, unable to restrain himself longer, "he must
be some kin to us; he has the same name, and belongs to the same
family, and you know you called him 'Uncle.'"
The old Negro had dropped his hat, and was staring at the colonel and
the little boy, alternately, with dawning amazement, while a look of
recognition crept slowly into his rugged old face.
"Look a hyuh, suh," he said tremulously, "is it?--it can't be!--but dere's
de eyes, an' de nose, an' de shape er de head--why, it must be my young
Mars Henry!"
"Yes," said the colonel, extending his hand to the old man, who grasped
it with both his own and shook it up and down with unconventional but
very affectionate vigour, "and you are my boy Peter; who took care of
me when I was no bigger than Phil here!"
This meeting touched a tender chord in the colonel's nature, already
tuned to sympathy with the dead past of which Peter seemed the only
survival. The old man's unfeigned delight at their meeting; his retention
of the family name, a living witness of its former standing; his respect
for the dead; his "family pride," which to the unsympathetic outsider
might have seemed grotesque; were proofs of loyalty that moved the
colonel deeply. When he himself had been a child of five or six, his
father had given him Peter as his own boy. Peter was really not many
years older than the colonel, but prosperity had preserved the one,
while hard luck had aged the other prematurely. Peter had taken care of
him, and taught him to paddle in the shallow water of the creek and to
avoid the suck-holes;