The Conjure Woman, Charles W. Chesnutt [reading women txt] 📗

‘you is got ter do sump’n fer me, er e’se I’ll be in de po’-house fus’ thing I know.’

“ ‘Well, suh,’ sez Aun’ Peggy, ‘I’s be’n doin’ all I knows how, but dey’s a root I’s bleedzd ter hab, en it doan grow nowhar but down in Robeson County. En I got ter go down dere en gether it on a Friday night in de full er de moon. En I won’t be back yer fer a week or ten days.’

“Mars Donal’ wuz mos’ out’n his min’ wid waitin’ en losin’ money. ‘But s’posen dem niggers dies on my han’s w’iles you er gone,’ sezee, ‘w’at is I gwine ter do?’

“Aun’ Peggy studied en studied, en den she up en sez, sez she:

“ ‘Well, ef dey dies I reckon you’ll hatter bury ’em. Dey is one thing you mought try, en I s’pec’s it’s ’bout de only thing w’at’ll keep yo’ niggers alibe ’tel I gits back. You mought see ef dey won’ eat chick’n.’

“Well, Mars Donal’ wanted ter sabe his niggers. Dey wuz all so po’ en so skinny en so feeble dat he couldn’ sell ’em ter nobody, en dey wouldn’ eat nuffin’ e’se, so he des had ter feed ’em on chick’n. W’en he had use’ up all de chick’ns on his place, he went roun’ ter his nabers ter buy chick’ns en dey say dey wuz sorry, but dey’d sol’ all dey chick’ns ter a man in town. Mars Donal’ went ter dis yer man, en he say dem chick’ns doan b’long ter him but ter ernudder man w’at wuz geth’in’ chick’ns fer ter ship ter Wim’l’ton, er de No’f, er some’ers. Mars Donal’ say he des bleedzd ter hab chick’ns, en fer dat man to see de yuther gente’man en ax ’im w’at he’d take fer dem chick’ns. De nex’ day de man say Mars Donal’ could hab de chick’ns fer so much, w’ich wuz ’bout twicet ez much ez chick’ns had be’n fetchin’ in de mahket befo’. It mos’ broke Mars Donal’s hea’t, but he ’lowed dem chick’ns would las’ ’tel Aun’ Peggy come back en tuk de goopher off’n de niggers.

“But w’en de een’ er de week wuz retch’, ole Aun’ Peggy hadn’ come back, en Mars Donal’ had ter hab mo’ chick’ns, fer chick’n-meat des barely ’peared ter keep de niggers alibe; en so he went out in de country fer ter hunt fer chick’ns. En ev’ywhar he’d go, dis yuther man had be’n befo’ ’im en had bought up all de chick’ns, er contracted fer ’em all, en Mars Donal’ had ter go back ter dis man in town en pay two prices ter git chick’ns ter feed his niggers.

“De nex’ week it wuz de same way, en Mars Donal’ ’mence’ ter git desp’rit. He sont way off in two er th’ee counties, fer ter hunt chick’ns, but high er low, no matter whar, dis yuther man had be’n befo’, ’tel it ’peared lak he had bought up all de chick’ns in No’f Ca’lina.

“But w’at wuz dribin’ Mars Donal’ mos’ crazy wuz de money he had ter spen’ fer dese chick’ns. It had mos’ broke his hea’t fer ter kill all his hawgs, en he had felt wuss w’en he hatter kill all his cows. But w’en dis yer chick’n business begun, it come mighty nigh ruinin’ ’im. Fus’, he spen’ all de money he had saved feedin’ de niggers. Den he spent all de money he had in de bank, er sto’ed away. Den he borried all de money he could on his notes, en he des ’bout retch’ de pint whar he’d hatter mawgidge his plantation fer ter raise mo’ money ter buy chick’ns fer his niggers, w’en one day Aun’ Peggy come back fum Robeson County en tol’ Mars Donal’ she had foun’ de root she ’uz lookin’ fer, en gun ’im a mixtry fer ter take de goopher off’n de niggers.

“ ‘Dis yer mixtry;’ sez she, ‘ ’ll fetch yo’ niggers ap’tites back en make ’em eat dey rashuns en git dey strenk back ag’in. But you is use’ dat yuther mixtry so strong, en put dat goopher on so ha’d, dat I ’magine its got in dey blood, en I’s feared dey ain’ nobody ner nuffin kin eber take it all off’n ’em. So I ’spec’s you’ll hatter gib yo’ niggers chick’n at leas’ oncet a week ez long ez dey libs, ef you wanter git de wuk out’n ’em dat you oughter.

“Dey wuz so many niggers on ole Mars Donal’s plantation,” continued Julius, “en dey got scattered roun’ so befo’ de wah en sence, dat dey ain’ ha’dly no cullu’d folks in No’f Ca’lina but w’at’s has got some er de blood er dem goophered niggers in dey vames. En so eber sence den, all de niggers in No’f Ca’lina has ter hab chick’n at leas’ oncet er week fer ter keep dey healt’ en strenk. En dat’s w’y cullu’ folks laks chick’n mo’d’n w’ite folks.”

“What became of Tom and his sweetheart?” asked my wife.

“Yas’m” said Julius, “I wuz a-comin’ ter dat. De nex’ week atter de goopher wuz tuk off’n de niggers, Mars Tom come down ter Aun’ Peggy, en paid her back de money he borried. En he tol’ Aun’ Peggy he had made mo’ money buyin’ chick’ns en sellin’ ’em ter his Uncle Donal’ dan his daddy had lef’ ’im w’en he died, en he say he wuz gwine ter marry Miss ’Liza en buy a big plantation en a lot er niggers en hol’ up his head ’mongs’ de big w’ite folks des lak he oughter. En he tol’ Aun’ Peggy he wuz much bleedzd ter her, en ef she got ti’ed cunj’in’ en wanter res’ en lib easy, she could hab a cabin on his plantation en a stool by his kitchen fiah, en all de chick’n en wheat-bread she wanter eat, en all de terbacker she wanter smoke ez long ez she mought stay in dis worl’ er sin en sorrer.”

I had occasion