In the Clouds for Uncle Sam or, Morey Marshall of the Signal Corps by Ashton Lamar

Author:Ashton Lamar [Lamar, Ashton]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anboco
Published: 2017-01-25T23:00:00+00:00

“I cain’t go to no Wash’ton now. I’se gwine camp meetin’ Sunday.”

“You’ll probably be camping by the roadside next Sunday,” laughed Morey.

“No, sah, Marse Morey, I can’t do dat. I been to Linden once when de circus show was dere and pa done lambast me fo’ dat. How fur dat Wash’ton?”

“About seventy-five miles.”

“An’ yo’ reckon we gwine git dar wid ole Betty?”

“Or walk.”

“Escuse me. Escuse me. How yo’ mean ’bout dat ‘fortune and wukkin’?”

“I mean, Amos, that things aren’t going right around here. We may have to move away from Aspley Place.”

“Yo’ done makin’ spoht—”

“I can’t tell you about it, but I’ve got to go away to arrange things so that my mother and your father and Mammy Ca’line and you and I can stay here. If you don’t come along and help me and look after Betty we’ll have to find another home.”

Amos was open-mouthed.

“We all ain’t got no other home, Marse Morey. We’s bound to stay here. Who gwine make us go ’way?”

“Never mind, now. But if you won’t go I’ll have to go alone. I thought you’d stick by me.”

“Who gwine do chores fo’ Mammy?”

“Who’s going to look after me?” answered Morey.

The black boy was in a quandary.

“I reckon yo’ ma gwine blame me fo’ dis.”

“Amos, did you ever hear of Don Quixote?”

“Dat a seegar?”

“Don Quixote was a man. He lived a long time ago—before even the Marshalls began to raise tobacco. He was poor as, as, well as we are. But, like a young man I know, this didn’t seem to make much difference to him. He sat, day after day, reading books about impossible things for this was in the time of chivalry—”

“Yas, sah—I knows dat—chivaree. Da’s when yo’ get married.”

Morey laughed, stopped his story and laying his hand on Amos’ arm led him into the dark, silent house, up the stairs to his room and, closing the door, lit his candle.

“Like to hear more about Don Quixote?” he asked, sitting down on his trunk.

“I ain’t hear ’bout him.”

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