Tempest and Sunshine

Next morning before daybreak Mr. Wilmot was aroused from a sound slumber

by what he thought was the worst noise he had ever heard. He instantly

concluded that the house was on fire, and springing up, endeavored to find

his clothes, but in the deep darkness of the room such a thing was

impossible; so he waited a while and tried to find out what the noise

could be.

At last it assumed something of a definite form, and he found it was the

voice of a man calling out in thunder-like tones, "Ho, Jebediah! Come out

with ye! Do you hear? Are you coming?"

Then followed a long catalogue of names, such as Sam, Joe, Jack, Jim, Ike,

Jerry, Nehemiah, Ezariah, Judy, Tilda, Martha, Rachel, Luce and Phema, and

at the end of each name was the same list of questions which had preceded

that of Jebediah; and ever from the negro quarters came the same response,

"Yes, marster, comin'."

By this time all the hens, geese, turkeys and dogs were wide awake and

joining their voices in the chorus, made the night, or rather the morning,

hideous with their outcries. At last the noise subsided. Silence settled

around the house and Wilmot tried to compose himself to sleep. When he

again awoke the sun was shining brightly into his room. He arose and

dressed himself, but felt in no hurry to see "his host," who had come

home, he was sure, and had given such tremendous demonstrations of the

strength of his lungs.

Mr. Wilmot finally descended to the sitting room, where the first object

which presented itself was a man who was certainly six and a half feet

high, and large in proportion. His face was dark and its natural color was

increased by a beard of at least four weeks' growth! He had on his head an

old slouched hat, from under which a few gray locks were visible. As soon

as Wilmot appeared, the uncouth figure advanced toward him, and seizing

his hand, gave a grip, which, if continued long, would certainly have

crushed every bone! He began with-"Well, so you are Mr. Wilmot from New York, hey? Of course a red-hot

Abolitionist, but I don't care for that if you'll only keep your ideas to

yourself and not try to preach your notions to me. I've heard of you

before."

"Heard of me, sir?" said Mr. Wilmot in surprise.

"Yes, of you; and why not? Thar's many a man, not as good as you, judging

by your looks, has had a hearing in his day; but, however, I haint heard

of you by the papers. As I was coming home last night I got along to old

man Edson's, and I seen him swarin' and tarin' round so says I, 'Ho, old

man, what's the row?' 'Oh,' says he, 'that you, Middleton? Nuff's the row.

I've done let my best horse and nigger go off with a man from the free

States, who said he's going to your house, and here 'tis after nine and

Jim not at home yet. Of course they've put out for the river.' 'Now,' says

I, 'don't be a fool, Edson; if that ar chap said he's goin' to my house,

he's goin' thar, I'll bet all my land and niggers he's honest. Likely

Jim's stopped somewhar. You come along with me and we'll find him.' So we

jogged along on the pike till of a sudden we met Prince coming home all

alone! This looked dark, but I told Edson to say nothin' and keep on; so

we came to Woodburn's fine house, and thar in the cabins we seen a bright

light, and heard the niggers larfin like five hundred, and thought we

could distinguish Jim Crow's voice; so we crept slyly up to the window and

looked in and, sure enough, there was Jim, telling a great yarn about the

way you rode and how you got flung onto the gate. It seems he didn't half

hitch Prince, who got oneasy like, and started for home. Edson hollered to

Jim, who came out and told how he didn't go clear here with you, cause you

said you could find the way, and he might go back. Then old man Edson

turned right round and said you were a likely man, and he hoped I'd do all

I could for you. So that's the way I heard of you; and now welcome to old

Kentuck, and welcome to my house, such as it is. It's mighty mean, though,

as 'Tempest' says."