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Chesnutt, Charles W. (Charles Waddell), 1858-1932

"The Marrow of Tradition"

At length he broke a window, and
entered the house like a thief.
"Janet, Janet!" he called in alarm, "where are you? It is only
I,--Will!"
There was no reply. He ran from room to room, only to find them all
empty. Again he called his wife's name, and was about rushing from the
house, when a muffled voice came faintly to his ear,--
"Is dat you, Doctuh Miller?"
"Yes. Who are you, and where are my wife and child?"
He was looking around in perplexity, when the door of a low closet under
the kitchen sink was opened from within, and a woolly head was
cautiously protruded.
"Are you _sho'_ dat's you, doctuh?"
"Yes, Sally; where are"--
"An' not some w'ite man come ter bu'n down de house an' kill all de
niggers?"
"No, Sally, it's me all right. Where is my wife? Where is my child?"
"Dey went over ter see Mis' Butler 'long 'bout two o'clock, befo' dis
fuss broke out, suh. Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy, suh! Is all de cullud folks be'n
killt 'cep'n' me an' you, suh? Fer de Lawd's sake, suh, you won' let 'em
kill me, will you, suh? I'll wuk fer you fer nuthin', suh, all my bawn
days, ef you'll save my life, suh!"
"Calm yourself, Sally. You'll be safe enough if you stay right here, I
'we no doubt. They'll not harm women,--of that I'm sure enough,
although I haven't yet got the bearings of this deplorable affair. Stay
here and look after the house. I must find my wife and child!"
The distance across the city to the home of the Mrs. Butler whom his
wife had gone to visit was exactly one mile.


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