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    Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo
    Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo
    Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo
    Ebook74 pages50 minutes

    Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo

    By B. West (Benjamin West) Clinedinst and Thomas Nelson Page

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo

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      Book preview

      Unc' Edinburg A Plantation Echo - B. West (Benjamin West) Clinedinst

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Unc' Edinburg, by Thomas Nelson Page

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Unc' Edinburg

      A Plantation Echo

      Author: Thomas Nelson Page

      Illustrator: B. West Clinedinst

      Release Date: October 1, 2010 [EBook #34016]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNC' EDINBURG ***

      Produced by Al Haines

      "I seen he eye light on her as she came down the steps smilin'."

      UNC' EDINBURG

      A PLANTATION ECHO

      BY THOMAS NELSON PAGE

      ILLUSTRATED BY B. WEST CLINEDINST

      CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

      NEW YORK, 1897

      Copyright, 1889, 1895, by

      Charles Scribner's Sons

      TROW DIRECTORY

      PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY

      NEW YORK

      LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

      "I seen he eye light on her as she came down the steps smilin'." . . . . . . Frontispiece.

      "I got de ker'idge heah for you."

      "We come 'way next mornin'."

      "Mars George lead her out on de porch."

      "Hit begin so low evybody had to stop talkin'."

      "Miss Charlotte she 'mos' 'stracted."

      "An' Marse George he ain' answer."

      "I got de ker'idge heah for you."

      Well, suh, dat's a fac—dat's what Marse George al'ays said. 'Tis hard to spile Christmas anyways.

      The speaker was Unc' Edinburg, the driver from Werrowcoke, where I was going to spend Christmas; the time was Christmas Eve, and the place the muddiest road in eastern Virginia—a measure which, I feel sure, will, to those who have any experience, establish its claim to distinction.

      A half-hour before he had met me at the station, the queerest-looking, raggedest old darkey conceivable, brandishing a cedar-staffed whip of enormous proportions in one hand, and clutching in the other a calico letter-bag with a twisted string; and with the exception of a brief interval of temporary suspicion on his part, due to the unfortunate fact that my luggage consisted of only a hand-satchel instead of a trunk, we had been steadily progressing in mutual esteem.

      Dee's a boy standin' by my mules; I got de ker'idge heah for you, had been his first remark on my making myself known to him. Mistis say as how you might bring a trunk.

      I at once saw my danger, and muttered something about a short visit, but this only made matters worse.

      Dee don' nobody nuver pay short visits dyah, he said, decisively, and I fell to other tactics.

      You couldn' spile Christmas den noways, he repeated, reflectingly, while his little mules trudged knee-deep through the mud. Twuz Christmas den, sho' 'nough, he added, the fires of memory smouldering, and then, as they blazed into sudden flame, he asserted, positively: Dese heah free-issue niggers don' know what Christmas is. Hawg meat an' pop crackers don' meck Christmas. Hit tecks ole times to meck a sho'-'nough, tyahin'-down Christmas. Gord! I's seen 'em! But de wuss Christmas I ever seen tunned out de best in de een, he added, with sudden warmth, an' dat wuz de Christmas me an' Marse George an' Reveller all got drownded down at Braxton's Creek. You's hearn 'bout dat'?

      As he was sitting beside me in solid flesh and blood, and looked as little ethereal in his old hat and patched clothes as an old oak stump would have done, and as Colonel Staunton had made a world-wide reputation when he led his regiment through the Chickahominy thickets against McClellan's intrenchments, I was forced to confess that I had never been so favored, but would like to hear about it now; and with a hitch of the lap blanket under his outside knee, and a supererogatory jerk of the reins, he began:

      "Well, you know, Marse George was jes' eighteen when he went to college. I went wid him, 'cause me an' him wuz de same age; I was born like on a Sat'day in

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