The Tar Baby and the Tomahawk: Race and Ethnic Images in American Children's Literature, 1880-1939

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Big Round Date and Little Bean

AKRABOUS sat on his steed at the edge of the desert. The red disc of the sun was sinking behind a sand dune in the distance. He looked like a figure of terra-cotta in contrast to the whiteness of his draperies. His bearing even on horseback was remarkably erect, and one could see at a glance, that he was of the nobility even though his skin was brown and his features broad and full like those of the people of the Sudan.

Presently a slave boy appeared with a tiny package which he placed in his master's hand, then hastened away again. Now this was a little silver box containing an amulet which the Mother of Akrabous had sent to him to keep away all harm on his journey, for he was going into the land of the Northern Tuaregs to seek a bride. Inside of this amulet among other things was the seed of a date which was as old as Akrabous himself. When he was a baby, he had been so fat and brown and round, that his Mother had named him Akrabous or "Big Round-Date", and a date had been his lucky symbol ever since.

He was a very fortunate young man in many respects, for although his Mother had been a slave brought from the far country of Dahomey, his father had been one of the Southern Tuaregs and had transferred his seat in the gima or town council to his son. Akrabous had also inherited much wealth and everyone knew in all the villages around how well educated he was, and what a brave warrior he had become, for could he not recite long passages from the Koran and count on beads? And he knew all the herbs and plants that grew around, and what their juices were good for, and no one understood how to treat sick animals better than he. And now he was going away. The old men of the Jima shook their heads. It was not well for a Southern Tuareg to go into the land of the Northern Tuaregs.

Akrabous was not afraid, however, for he wore on his forefinger a huge ring of stone which would enable him to strike a fatal blow, and he carried also a poniard and a shield of camel's skin for which his father had paid five sous. Moreover he was not going on this journey alone. Just beyond the edge of the village seven dusky slaves and companions were to join him as soon as night fell and he should be ready to start.

Once he had reached his destination Akrabous felt that everything would be simple and easy for was he not carrying many precious gifts to the nobleman whose daughter he was seeking? Ivory, and great beads of coral, and gum from the acacia tree were some of the things he carried, also many useful and beautiful articles of leather.

Now Akrabous had never seen this maiden whom he sought but so many and so frequent had been the stories which he had heard of her beauty and cleverness that he was very sure he would fall in love with her as soon as he saw her.

Meantime, even while Akrabous was planning his trip another suitor was aspiring for the hand of Tama, for that was the lovely maiden's name. His name was Taldebert or "Little-Bean", and he was certainly not an attractive looking person. Nevertheless he was crafty and determined and always did just what
brownies.192009.006.jpg he knew would please Tama. At night he would stand in the grove of trees near her home and play for hours on his reed flute because she liked to be serenaded, and at other times when she and the ladies of her household wanted to be amused in the evening with games, Taldebert was always the one to take the principal role and a great clown he could be too when he liked. When the time came for story telling no one could match Taldebert with yarns. He would sit cross-legged on a grass mat looking for all the world like an ungainly donkey, so homely was he with his long head, and ears that stood off from his head, and eyes that protruded also. Yet somehow Tama seemed to favor him. Her little waiting maiden Barbara thought that it was only because he was amusing and was wishing that some one else would appear who would be at once more entertaining than Taldebert and more desirable also.

One warm evening when a group of ladies were sitting around under the date trees and fanning themselves with palmetto leaves, being entertained as usual, a messenger came breathlessly riding up and jumping off of his horse, asked permission by making a low bow, if he might tell his news. Tama lifted her first finger which he knew meant "Yes", and he proceeded.

A strange young warrior with only a few comrades had been attacked by a tribe of wandering Arabs a few miles outside of the village. They were so clever and strong that they captured the whole band.

"Where were they going?" asked Tama.

"Where but here to the village of Locoma," the messenger replied. The ladies clapped their hands together, they were so pleased that some new excitement was to be theirs; Tama's father came to the door of his tent to see what it was all about, but Taldebert only pricked up his ears and looked more homely than ever.

At her father's bidding Tama ordered preparations to be made for the guests. Earthen jars of goat's milk and little cakes of bread made from grain and dried in the sun, were being set out to refresh the travelers. Tama went in and added a few ornaments to her hair and rubbed a little more antimony under her eyes for she was a vain little person and wished to have the stranger admire her. Meantime her father had sent an escort to lead the way for the visitors and to meet them at the gate of the village.

Now Akrabous had been successful all through his journey, but just as he was having a skirmish with the last one of the Arab captives he in some way lost his amulet and did not miss it until he had ridden many miles. Men were sent back to look for it, but this so weakened their numbers, that the Arabs attempted to over-power them, and in the struggle Akrabous was badly wounded and had to be carried into the village.

This was by no means the kind of entrance that poor Akrabous had hoped to make. The group halted once they were safely inside the village gates, and the messenger was sent back to secure aid of some sort in conveying their leader to a safe resting place. So when Tama and the ladies looked up expectantly, instead of seeing an erect and imposing young warrior at the head of the band they saw only a limp form being carried by two of their slaves.

Little by little Tama's father was given all the necessary information about the purposes of Akrabous' visit, his gifts, and the disaster which had befallen them on the way. Whereupon they were all made welcome to the village and were comfortably installed for the night.

Meantime, Taldebert, aware of all that had happened, had taken it upon himself to waylay the returning messengers who had been sent to secure the amulet. He hid himself in a clump of bushes and jumped out so quickly that he had the precious box in his hand before the slave boys knew it. Then a chase ensued but Taldebert was fleeter than the boys. But almost as soon as he returned to the village himself, the slave boys had gained audience of Akrabous who was somewhat better, and described to him their encounter with Taldebert. The amulet could not have fallen into worse hands. Akrabous was much perplexed as to how he should set about recovering it. He dismissed the slaves and decided to get it himself, for he knew that unless he did he would never win Tama.

So with his head bandaged and able to walk only with the support of a staff he crept outside of his tent and looked around. It was late at night now and the moon was high up in the heavens. The ladies had long since retired, having left vacant their seats under the palm trees. Akrabous limped in that direction and was resting there a moment trying to make up his mind what to do next when he noticed afar off a little fluttering, moving figure, near what
brownies.192009.007.jpg [illustration - A messenger came breathlessly riding up—]
brownies.192009.008.jpg he supposed to be the women's quarters. As he watched it, it seemed to be coming in his direction, and while he waited he was conscious that the silence about him was broken for the first time by the notes of a reed flute playing softly in the distance.

The figure came nearer all the time until he could see plainly that it was a woman. He knew at once that it was Tama because only a Princess could be so beautiful. Even in the moonlight he could see the contour of her face. He could see the sheen of her jet black hair, and how tiny her hands and feet were. He could not have wished anything better than that his first meeting with her should be like this—alone and so that he might catch a glimpse of her real self when he was unobserved. He sank back deeper into the shadow of the tree, wondering if she had lost something that she should come back to this spot. Even while he wondered though, she ran lightly past him, straight down the path to his tent, stopping at the edge of the tent she peered around, gave a slight cough and then raised the flap and stepped inside. Seeing it empty she started slowly back down the path.

Akrabous, unable to wait any longer, had started towards her, "My Lady," he began, but before he could finish she had thrust a tiny ring into his hand, saying, "Rub that on a rock if you need help, and say Elkado." Then she ran swiftly away. Akrabous of course could not pursue her, so he stood there looking at the little ring and wondering what she had meant.

Meantime the notes of the flute had died away, and Taldebert who had been playing it was wending his way also towards Akrabous' tent. He had been playing to Tama at her window from the grove. So it was not Tama whom Akrabous had seen, (she was far too dignified for anything of that sort, and too occupied with thoughts of herself besides), but Barbara, her waiting maid. Barbara had overheard a conversation between Taldebert and his friend and she knew that he was planning some bodily harm to Akrabous as well.

Now Barbara had only one thing in the world which she valued and that was the little ring which her grandmother had brought long ago from Egypt and had given her before she died, and she had always planned to use it for herself some time, but her tender little heart had been touched that day to see the tall young warrior lying so helpless, and she was willing to give it up to save his life. Furthermore she did not want her mistress to marry Taldebert for he was so homely and gaunt, and mean, that Barbara knew life with him would not be happy. So when she slipped back into the women's tents unnoticed Barbara breathed a sigh of relief, for she believed now that all was adjusted.

It was indeed fortunate for Akrabous that this had happened, for a few moments after Barbara had left, Taldebert was upon him. He darted out from behind some rocks and sprang upon him. "Dog of a foreigner!" he cried, but Akrabous leaned down quickly and rubbing the ring upon the rocks at his feet repeated "Elkado! Elkado!" Taldebert heard the incantation and being really a coward at heart and fearing anything like witch-craft, turned and fled, dropping the lost amulet on the ground.

There seemed nothing else to do, so Akrabous picked up his amulet, and walked towards his tent, having replaced the cherished ring on his finger.

The next morning he was invited into the general assembly tent, where all of the nobleman's household were gathered. There sat the proud Tama on a wonderfully carved chair with much powder and ochre and paint on her face, and Akrabous knew that she was not the beautiful girl whom he had seen the night before. So his eyes roamed around the room until they rested on Barbara, simple and with no ornamentation on her face. "This is the girl I love," said Akrabous going and bowing in front of her. A wave of consternation passed over all present. Of course much explanation and adjustment followed, but the result of it all was that Akrabous had fallen in love with Barbara and Barbara he meant to have, for he was not a foolish young man, and knew what he wanted when he saw it.

It was difficult for them to get away, but he gave all his presents to Tama's father just the same. He and Barbara did not need costly things to make them happy. With the amulet, and the ring, they journeyed safely back to his home and no doubt Taldebert is still serenading Tama.

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THE WATERMELON DANCE

NOW of all the things that Happy liked best the one which tickled him most was watermelon. He always felt so sad when old Mr. Wolf Wind came howling out of the north and snapped up all the nice green things down in Georgia, [illustration - "HAPPY"] for that meant that the watermelon vines would be snapped up. Old Mr. Wolf Wind likes watermelons even better than Happy who would eat nothing but the nice red hearts of the melons, while Mr. Wolf Wind would bite vines and all.

Now of all the things that Happy really hated, he hated most Old Man Temptation. He never dreamed that watermelons and Old Man Temptation were cousins and often stayed very close together. Happy never would have believed it if he hadn't found it out in a very dreadful way.

You see Happy disliked Old Man Temptation because he got him to eat Mammy Tibbetts' syrup and it made him sick. He never thought that a really nice goody like watermelon could be a partner to Old Man Temptation in trouble.

It was winter time now in Georgia, but you could hardly believe it because Boy, Waddy and Happy were barefooted, and no one ever bothered about coats; doors were wide open and there would have been watermelons too. Only one night when Mrs. South Wind had gone down to the sea-shore to see what the ladies were wearing, old Mr. Wolf Wind had found that she was gone and had come howling out of the north and eaten all the watermelon vines. Of course Happy could have planted more only in the winter Mrs. South Wind is a very gay lady, and spends most of her time visiting; she won't tend her garden at all. Mr. Wolf Wind watches for her to go away and then he gets her nice greens. Folks just wait for her to get through visiting before they plant their good things.

Happy, Boy and Waddy sat on the beach under the Chinaberry tree trying to think of something new to play.

"Boy, what do you like best of all the things to eat?" asked Happy.

"Let's see. Oh! It's chocolate candy," said Boy.

"And I like pink ice-cream the best and hate castor-oil the worst," said chubby Waddy.

"I hate razor straps the worst," said Boy.

"What do you hate, Happy?"

"Old Man Temptation," said Happy real quick. "But what I like best of all things on this part of the world, on the top side of the world or the bottom side of the world, is watermelon." Then he tried to tell how much he liked watermelon, but of course he couldn't because you cannot make other folks feel just like you, but it did make Boy and Waddy real hungry for watermelon—and would, you believe it? Just then Happy's daddy came along with a big watermelon on his arm, a really truly watermelon that he had hidden in his cave when he had known that Mr. Wolf Wind was coming to make a visit to Georgia. The
brownies.192009.010.jpg boys rubbed their eyes to make sure that it wasn't a dream, then Happy called out:

"Oh! Say Daddy, can we have a bite?"

"Go along with you, Boys, I am taking this watermelon to the store to sell and buy me a new hoe." He placed the melon on the front step while he went to hitch up the old white mule to the cart so he could haul the melon to town.

The boys went over to get a good look at the watermelon. My! it certainly did look fine! Happy thumped it, and it seemed to say: "Have a bite," or maybe it was Old Man Temptation, because he was right behind the porch post. Boy measured the watermelon and found it as long as his leg.

"Pshaw! it's a shame Daddy has to work so hard; he has one very good hoe now and if he has two he will make himself sick hoeing," said Happy looking rather sad.

"He might just hoe until he died," said Waddy.

"Of course he would if he had two hoes," said Boy.

"Poor old Daddy," winked Happy and just then Old Man Temptation began to cry and that made Happy so distressed that he said:

"Here, old watermelon, you are not going to hurt my nice Daddy. I'll fix you; we'll take you out in the woods and hide you, so there!"

In a minute they had the watermelon in a sack and all the boys were carrying it off to the woods, but really Old Man Temptation was carrying the most of it. Very soon they found the cow path and followed it into the big woods and there, among some very tall trees, they put the watermelon down on a nice grassy spot. Of course they couldn't see Old Man Temptation but it was he who really pulled the watermelon from the sack.

"I don't believe it's ripe," said Boy, "it looks awful green." Happy pulled out his sure enough knife and he cut a tiny piece just the size of Waddy's fattest finger. It was as red as a cherry and a million times sweeter, because Happy licked the juice off his knife and said so.

"Oh! of course that one stingy little piece is red but I bet the whole inside isn't," said Waddy.

Happy looked real mad: "I'll just show you two 'know nothings'," and Happy's knife ripped right down the side of that watermelon. It burst wide open as if there was something inside of it that wanted to come out, and there was too, for just as the boys went to stoop over to get a good look at that pretty red melon, they upset themselves getting back; for out of it walked all the watermelon seeds,—lots of very black ones and some very, very white ones, dozens of both kinds. The strange part about them was that they suddenly grew tall—as tall as a sugar cane stalk. And they wore the floppiest black and white dresses which hung from their pointed heads down to the ground. No sooner had they touched the ground than they began to dance. They grabbed Boy, Waddy and Happy by their hands and spun them around in their crazy dance. Then they all joined hands like a ring and danced some more; sometimes they laughed but most of the time those watermelon ghosts howled:

"Woo-ooo-ooo-Woo-oo-ah!" until they sounded worse than Mr. Owl when he starts out on black nights to kill rabbits.

The boys were so scared they couldn't stand up but those dreadful watermelon dancers dragged them about anyway until it seemed as if Waddy's fat arms would be pulled off and Happy was certain that his short legs would soon be as long as fishing poles, yet those watermelon seeds danced on and on singing their terrible: "Woo-ooo-Ah!"

"Please let us go; I'll never bother another watermelon unless it's given to me," begged Happy as he spun around in that crazy dance. Then they did stop but only to do worse. You see the juice had run out of those two watermelon halves and made a beautiful pink lake; it was now splashing among the trees. Those watermelon folks took those two green empty shells, put the boys in them and pushed them out on the juicy waves, while they danced around the lake. No telling what might have happened to those boys but just then Happy's old spotted cow came along and poked her nose right down into that pink lake and the lake disappeared, so did every one of those terrible watermelon seed folks, leaving not so much as one wee watermelon seed behind.

The three boys never stopped to hunt for any though, they went home so fast that Mr. Rabbit who saw them felt ashamed that he couldn't run like that. They didn't stop to open Happy's gate but climbed through a hole in the rail fence. Happy was sure he heard Old Man Temptation at the gate laughing.

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Daddy Henry was sitting on the bench under the Chinaberry tree playing his fiddle just as if he didn't know that the boys had taken his watermelon, but he did, because Mammy Tibbetts had heard them talking and told him all about it. He put the fiddle down while Happy told him about the watermelon dance. You would have thought he would have been awful mad but he kind of smiled and scratched his white hair (where he had some), and told those boys he would give them just a week to pay him a dollar for that watermelon or he would have to tell the policeman that some one about there was stealing watermelons.

So the three little boys went without candy; they worked every day doing anything they could find to do, with never a minute to play until at last they paid Happy's daddy one hundred pennies.

Happy always treated his old spotted cow mighty good after that and she always winked her eyes at him too, as if to say:

"What would have become of you and those little white boys if I hadn't come along in the big woods one time and drunk up a certain pink watermelon lake?"

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THE STORY OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS

A TRUE STORY

ON or about the 14th of February, 1817, on a large plantation down on the eastern shore of Maryland, there was born a little Negro slave boy. This child, whom we shall henceforth know as Frederick Douglass, lived with his old grandmother, his mother being hired out by her master. The grandmother was a fisherwoman of much note; she was also skilled in the manufacture of fish nets and was famous for her success in the planting of sweet potatoes. She was treated with more than ordinary respect by all who knew her.

Of the early childhood of Douglass there is little to tell. While in his grandmother Betsy's care he lived in a little cabin which was several miles away from those of the other slaves, as the old lady had been excused from labor on account of her great age. The log but was bare enough; it was neither painted nor whitewashed; it contained two rooms, one above the other—that above with a floor made of fence rails, which did double duty as floor and bed; that below was windowless, with its floor of cold brown clay, and earth-and-straw chimney. The stairway was a ladder. There was little furniture —a table, a stool or two, no stove, but instead a wide chimney place in which sweet potatoes were roasted and corn pone and johnny cake baked.

In such a home as this young Frederick spent the first six years of his life, with none of the diversions considered necessary for the happiness of children. In the summer there were the birds to listen to and the squirrels to watch as they gathered nuts for the long, cold winter; or there was fishing in the Choptank River when his grandmother measured her strong arm with the best of the men in the catching of shad and herring.

Another thing the little fellow found interesting was to draw water from the deep old-fashioned well, so full of mystery to him, and to gaze into its depths at the reflection of the clear blue sky with the woolly white clouds sailing by like great birds. He liked to muse on the hillside and watch the water fall over the wheel of the old mill when the people brought their corn to be ground by Mr. Lee, the miller, and to drop his line, with its hook of bent pin, into the mill-pond for the fish that he never caught.

All these things came to an end when between the age of six and seven he was carried to the home plantation of his master, Colonel Anthony, a large land owner on the banks of the Wye River. The trip of 12 miles was all made on foot by the grandmother, who carried little Frederick in her arms when he grew too tired to walk. Here he met a brother and two sisters—Perry, Sarah, and Elizabeth—of whom he had heard much, but whose relationship to him he could not appreciate.

Life now took on a great change. There was no grandmother on whose lap he might cry out his childish woes and have them soothed away by her kindly hands. Instead, there was Aunt Kate, who, having been given unusual authority by her master, was very cruel and unkind to the plantation young folks, who were all under her care. She gave them very little to eat, and young Douglass often fought for crumbs and other fragments of food with Nep, the watch dog. To dip his bread into the water in which bacon had been boiled was a luxury, while a bit of rusty bacon rind was the greatest of delicacies. Too young to work in the fields, he had to drive the cows up at sunset, keep the front yard clean, and go small errands for his young mistress. This lady was very kind to him and often gave him bread and even butter from her own table. He learned a trick of singing under her window when very hungry; she soon understood what was expected of her and accordingly remunerated the singer with food, which was often Maryland biscuit, and thus he formed a liking for that delicacy which he never outgrew.

There was no difference between his life and that of the other slave boys and girls. He, like them, had neither shoes nor stockings, jackets nor trousers. Two coarse tow linen shirts were all that were given for the whole year, and if these were worn out before allowance day came, the little one went naked until that time came again. There were no beds; the children slept in the corners, often near the chimney, in order to keep warm, for only adults were given a blanket, and that was a rough one. Douglass
brownies.192009.013.jpg slept in a little closet, he shared the children's regular diet, which was a large trough of corn meal mush from which all ate at once, each scooping out his share with an oyster shell or a piece of shingle. Of course the one who could eat most quickly and was the strongest got the lion's share. Before he was twelve years old he went to Baltimore. Great were the preparations made for this most eventful trip. The best part of three days he spent in the creek, for he had been promised a pair of pants—his first—on this condition however, that he made himself exceedingly clean. The warning had the desired result. He received the trousers and became so excited that he could not sleep for fear of being left.

Having reached the city he entered the family of a relative of his master. Here his duty was to attend the wants of a little boy about his own age. This marked an epoch in the life of our hero, for he was given a comfortable room to sleep in and plenty of good food to eat.

His new mistress, Mrs. Auld, unused to slaves, manifested much interest in him, and even allowed him to stand at her knee and learn his letters with her little son Thomas. She was so pleased with his progress that she told her husband, who became angry and requested her to stop teaching the little "nigger" at once, which she did. Young Douglass had, however, become ambitious, and though Mrs. Auld gave him no more lessons, it was out of the question to expect him to give up trying to learn. He earned a few dimes blacking boots, and with these he bought the "Columbia Orator", a book he had heard some white schoolboys mention. These boys had given him, also, much assistance in learning how to spell.

Although at this time he was still very young, he had already begun to feel a growing discontent at being a slave, and two selections contained in the Orator had much to do with increasing his dissatisfaction. These were "A Dialogue between the Master and his Slave", in which the slave argued so well that he was emancipated; and the great English orator Sheridan's speech on "Catholic Emancipation".

For seven years he remained in Baltimore. During this time he became acquainted with a pious old man known as Uncle Lawson. This poor slave was a person of much religious devotion and through his influence Douglass' thoughts were centered on his Creator, and once in this frame of mind he became more cheerful. Little Thomas Auld had meantime become a great schoolboy and no longer needed his care. He was, therefore, given work in the shipyard of Mr. Hugh Auld, and in this work he learned to write in a most novel way by copying the letters "L", "S", "L. A." and "S. A." which meant Larboard, Starboard, Larboard-aft, and Starboard-aft, and were to be found on the sides of vessels. Encouraged by his success he began copying the italics in Webster's spelling book, and ended up by taking possession of some finished copy books of Thomas Auld which had been most carefully put away as treasures by the latter's mother. These *Douglass used as tracing books. Night after night when his hard day's work was ended, in a bare little garret bedroom he worked by the light of a tallow candle with an old barrel for a desk.

Through many changes brought about by the death of his old master, Douglass found himself at St. Michael's, Md., in 1833, with a new master and mistress.

Until Christmas Day, 1834, he was hired to a very cruel man named Covey, who starved

Until he reached New Bedford, Mr. Douglass had answered to the name Frederick Bailey, in order to be less easily traced after his escape from slavery. He decided to change his name, and acting upon the suggestion of an ex-slave, who had read the story of Douglass of Scotland he chose for himself the same name, which he afterward bore quite as well as the brave Scot.

brownies.192009.014.jpg and beat him unmercifully. Douglass' strong resentment at the indignities put upon him by this man gave him the determination to resist Covey's second attempt to whip him. This he did with so much physical force that the latter was absolutely beaten and badly hurt. The moral effect of his victory upon the slave lad was that from the hour of his conquest he was in mind a free man. The next man who hired him was very kind. On his farm he did very hard work as a field hand. Here he opened a Sunday School and had about thirty pupils, when it was broken up by the masters of the members. A second school was opened and secretly conducted in the woods.

In the beginning of the year 1836 Douglass made a vow that before its close he would make an effort to free himself. This determination he made known to five of his friends who were likewise inclined, and they began to make arrangements to that end. Passes were written, food prepared, and clothing packed. The plan was to go down the river in an open boat and around up the bay toward Delaware. The plot was betrayed, however, on the very day fixed for departure, by one of the five who had his courage lessened by a Friday night's dream. The young men were carried to jail and a search was made for the passes which Douglass had written. These were not found, for Douglass had thrown his into the fire and the others had eaten theirs on the road. They were imprisoned at Easton, but all were set free after a few months, except Douglass, for it was generally understood that he had orginated the plan. So he was detained much longer with the threat of being sent South. This did not happen, for he was finally sent again to Baltimore to learn a trade, with a promise that he should be free at the age of twenty-five.

During the spring and summer of 1836 he worked at calking in the shipyard of Mr. Gardiner. Here he was nearly killed by the poor white apprentices, who objected to working with a Negro. These things—contact with free men of his own race and the fact that he was forced to hand over each Saturday night all that he had earned during the week to a white man—served to make him more discontented with slavery. He sought and was at first refused the privileges of hiring his own time. It was afterward given him only to be taken away within a few months. Although disappointed in this venture, which he had intended should be a step nearer freedom, he was not despondent, but determined to make another effort to secure his heart's desire.

Accordingly on the 3rd of September, 1838, dressed in a sailor's outfit borrowed from a sailor friend, with a sailor's passport in his pocket, and a little money furnished by the woman who afterwards became his wife, he boarded a moving train in Baltimore, in order to avoid the showing of free papers, of which he had none, answering the usual questions and measuring,—all of which were necessary when a colored person attempted to buy a railroad ticket. While on the train he was several times exposed to the view of those who knew him, but so complete was his disguise, that he reached New York City twenty-four hours after starting, without accident. Fearing to remain in New York where there was every danger of being discovered and returned to slavery, and discouraged by his failure to secure work, he left in a few days for New Bedford, Mass., accompanied by his wife, who, being a free woman had left Baltimore immediately after his departure and had joined him in New York, where they were married.

In New Bedford he was variously employed as charboy, as worker in an oil refinery, and in a brass foundry; in this latter position the work was very hard, but so great was his desire for knowledge that often while at work over a furnace hot enough to keep metals in a liquid state, he would nail a newspaper to the post before him and read as he worked.

The first Anti-Slavery Convention he attended was in Nantucket, in 1841. Here he met William Lloyd Garrison, who was then a young man, and afterward became famous as an abolitionist. Mr. Douglass was introduced to the public in this meeting by W. C. Coffin, another noted abolitionist, and made a speech which was so impressive that he was invited to become an agent of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society. This he did. With other members of the organization it now became his duty to go about in the New England States and protest against slavery. Sometimes he suffered many indignities; again he was treated with deference and respect. In Grafton, N. H., he was refused the use of any hall or church in which to assemble an audience. So great was his determination to speak in the town, in spite of this opposition, that he borrowed a dinner bell from the hotel and went through the streets crying
brownies.192009.015.jpg out, "Notice! Frederick Douglass, recently a slave, will lecture on American slavery, on the common, this evening. Those who would like to hear the working of slavery by one of the slaves are respectifully invited to attend." He had a crowd that evening and afterward there was no trouble in the effort to secure an assembly hall in Grafton.

He was made to ride in Jim-Crow cars. On one occasion, when avoiding these cars, he was beaten by the brakeman. On another, when refusing to take second-class fare on a first-class ticket, the conductor and others, in the attempt to move him, brought away also a part of the seat to which he clung most firmly. While lecturing in Indiana he was beset by a mob who threw bad eggs at him and his associates, and used such personal violence that Douglass was left with a broken hand and unconscious.

All of this public speaking was attended with great danger. There was every possibility of his being captured and returned to slavery, and there was also the liability of death at the hands of Southerners or their sympathizers. Consequently about the year 1844 he decided to leave America and become a refugee in England.

While in Great Britain he associated with such kindred spirits as John Bright, Peel, O'Connell, Disraeli, and many other famous statesmen. Affinity with such persons served to imbue him with a larger love for freedom. Unlimited opportunities were given him for addressing the public—one being at the World's Temperance Convention, held in Covent Garden, London. While abroad the sum of one hundred fifty pounds sterling was collected by English friends and sent to Hugh Auld as purchase money and thus Frederick Douglass became literally a free man. After remaining away nearly two years, he returned to America despite the protests of friends on the other side of the water and again took up active work for the liberation of slaves.

Discouraged in the effort to edit an Anti-Slavery paper in Boston, he moved to Rochester, New York, and there in the fall of 1847, issued the North Star, afterward known as Frederick Douglass' Paper. Mr. Douglass received material aid from such men as Gerritt Smith, Chief Justice Chase, William H. Seward, and Charles Sumner.

He made another visit to England in 1850, due to fear of arrest and implication of complicity in the John Brown raid at Harper's Ferry, W. Va. But he returned to America as soon as the threatened danger was past, to take up his work again with new zeal.

During the Civil War which soon followed this raid, Mr. Douglass was active in the raising of the 54th Massachusetts Regiment of colored troops, whose magnificent work under Colonel Shaw at Fort Wagner, South Carolina, can never be forgotten. He also visited President Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton, in the hope of securing commissions for colored men, who until then had been enlisted only as privates. In this he was unsuccessful, though the Secretary promised him a position as Adjutant to General Thomas, then in the Mississippi Valley. He waited for it anxiously, but the papers never came.

When the war ended in 1865, and the slaves were emancipated, Mr. Douglass took up a new line of work as a public lecturer. His favorite topic was, "Self Made Men". In this he was very successful. His high sense of honor and right impelled him to decline to follow the advice of many friends to go South and live in a thickly populated Negro district, in order to come to Congress through their vote. In the early 70's he took up a residence in Washington, and became editor-in-chief of a race paper —The New National Era. The promised support not being given, he afterward bought this paper and gave over the management of the same to two of his sons, Lewis and Frederick.

Mr. Douglass became president of the Freedman's Bank, an institution in which the recently emancipated slaves all over the country were encouraged to deposit their earnings, and in vindication of his fair name, let it be understood that he lost no time in ascertaining the true condition of the bank, and this done, he endeavored at once to restore things to their proper condition, and to meet as far as possible, the honest demands of the depositors. In this he was thwarted by the directors and other officers of the bank.

In June, 1871, he made an address at Arlington on the occasion of dedicating the monument to the unknown dead. He also made the address at the unveiling of the *Lincoln Monument in Lincoln Park, Washington, D. C.

On the death of Vice-President Wilson, he was one of those appointed to accompany the

* Much of the money which purchased this monument was contributed by ex-slaves.

brownies.192009.016.jpg body to Boston. He was made Marshal* of the District of Columbia by President Hayes, in 1877. Before this time he served in the Legislature for the Government of the District, now replaced by a Board of three Commissioners. Mr. Douglass served also on a Commission sent by President Grant to Santo Domingo to consider the annexation of that Island with the United States. Through the appointment of President Garfield he held the position of Recorder of Deeds(t) for nearly five years. Until then no colored man had received this office. Since that time it has until recently always been given to a member of Mr. Douglass' race. (i)

In 1886, Mr. Douglass having previously married a second time, made the third and last trip to Europe, accompanied by his wife, a lady of the Caucasian race. This trip included many old and renowned cities in the southern part of the Continent, and extended even to Egypt.

In 1886 he was appointed to his last public office by President Harrison, as United States Minister to Haiti. As if to show her great confidence and esteem in him, Haiti made him her representative to the World's Fair in Chicago, in 1893. The appreciation of this compliment Mr. Douglass showed by his efforts to place the little Republic on a level with her sister governments at this mammoth exhibition of the world's progress.

On the 20th of February, 1895, the life of this grand man came suddenly to an end at Cedar Hill in Anacostia, D. C., shortly after reaching home from a meeting of the National Council of Women. There was neither pain nor suffering. Funeral services were conducted in the Metropolitan A. M. E. Church in Washington, D. C. It is estimated that upward of ten thousand people of both races viewed the remains as they lay in state in this church, he loved so well, while nigh three thousand gained admission to the services. He was buried in Mount Hope Cemetery at Rochester, N. Y.

Long and lasting will be the influence of Frederick Douglass. His life is a sublime inspiration to his race. As an orator he has had no equal—forcible, strong, and true in his utterances, full of quiet and gentle humor—one never tired of hearing him. He always had something to say and was a master hand at saying it. Personally he had a magnetic force which drew all to him. He was of noble bearing, and possessed a physique of handsome proportions, crowned by a glorious head of silvery-white hair. His kindly voice and warm hand grasp dispersed the fears of the most timid at once. He was a believer in the righteousness of woman's suffrage and lifted up his voice many times in a struggle for woman's rights. He was a lover of little children and was passionately fond of animals. He never whipped his horses and his voice was sufficient to calm them, no matter how frightened they were. He loved vocal and instrumental music, had a magnificent voice for singing, and was a great admirer of the violin, which he often played.

A monument to the memory of Mr. Douglass was unveiled in one of the public squares of Rochester, N. Y., on June 6, 1899. The Governor of the State, Hon. Theodore Roosevelt, made the address. Over thirty thousand strangers visited the city on this occasion. A singular incident is, that until this time Rochester had had but one monument, that of the great Emancipator, Lincoln.

* The Marshal of the District supervises the execution of all orders of the Supreme Court of the District of Columbia, such as arresting prisoners for grand larceny, felony, murder, and the like, and the extradition of prisoners who are to appear before that court, either in civil or criminal cases. This official also leads the Inaugural Processions. Mr. Douglass led that of President Garfield.

(t) The Recorder of Deeds is appointed by the President of the United States. This office is located in the United States Court House, better known as the City Hall, in the city of Washington, D. C. It is his duty to supervise the recording of all deeds, contracts, and other instruments in writing affecting the title or ownership of real or personal property in the District.

(i) I President Wilson appointed an Indian to this position.

brownies.192009.022.jpg [illustration - John Bolden]

THE THREE GOLDEN HAIRS OF THE SUN-KING

A KING once went hunting and was lost in the forest. Toward evening he came to a charcoal burner's hut, and asked if he could spend the night there.

In the middle of the night he saw three ladies dressed in white standing by the cradle in in which lay the charcoal burner's baby.

One of them said, "Bad luck go with this child!"

The second said, "He may turn it to good."

And the third, "He shall marry the king's daughter."

The king was very angry at this, but he said nothing. The next day, when the charcoal burner had shown him the way to his city, he said, "Give me your child. I will take him to court, where he shall make his fortune."

But instead of doing this, the king told a servant to put the boy in a basket and fling him into the river. The basket floated down the stream until a fisherman drew it ashore and took the child to his wife. The boy lived with them until he was twenty years old; they called him Nameless.

One day the king passed by and saw him, and said to the fisherman, "Is this handsome youth your son?"

"No," said the fisherman, "I fished him out of the river twenty years ago."

The king was terrified to find the charcoal burner's child was still alive, and said, "Let him take this letter from me to the queen."

In the letter he wrote, "Dear wife, have this youth put to death at once or he will bring us all great harm."

Nameless took the letter, but lost his way in the forest. Presently he met a lady in white, who said to him, "Come and rest in my hut awhile. Then I will show you the way to the queen."

While the boy slept, she burned the letter and put in its place one that read, "Dear wife, let this youth marry our daughter at once or great harm will come to us."

When Nameless reached the city, he was greatly surprised and pleased to find that he was to marry the princess. When the king came back, he found that the wedding was over, but he concealed his anger and only said, "You must prove yourself worthy to be my son- in-law. Go and get me three golden hairs from the head of the Sun-King; then shall you be king and rule with me." In this way, he hoped to be rid of him.

brownies.192009.023.jpg [illustration - "She twitched out a hair!" Marcellus Hawkins 21 ]
brownies.192009.024.jpg

Nameless set out very sorrowfully for he and his wife loved each other.

As he wandered, he came to a great black lake, on which a white boat floated. He called out, "Boat ahoy! Come and ferry me over."

The old ferryman said, "I will, but you must promise when you come back to tell me how to escape from this boat."

Nameless promised. Presently he came to a great city. There he met an old man who asked, "Whither away?"

"To the Sun-King," said Nameless.

Then the old man led him before the king of that place, who said, "Twenty years ago there was a fountain in our city that made everyone young who drank of it. Now it is dry, and only the Sun-King knows the reason. You must ask him why this is so."

Nameless promised and went on.

He arrived presently at another city where an old man asked him, "Whither away?"

"To the Sun-King."

Then this old man led him before the king, who said, "Twenty years ago stood a tree that bore golden apples. Whoever ate of them grew young and healthy and never died. But the tree has ceased to bear fruit, and only the Sun-King knows why this is so."

Nameless promised and went on. Soon he came to a great mountain, where he saw an old lady in white sitting in front of a beautiful house.

She asked him, "Whither away?',

"To the Sun-King."

"Come in," she said, "I am his mother. Every day he flies out of this house as a little child, at midday he becomes a man, and in the evening he returns a graybeard."

She made Nameless tell her all his story, and said she would ask her son the three questions.

"But now," she added, "you must hide; for if he finds you here, he will burn you up."

She hid him in a great vessel of water and bade him keep quiet.

In the evening, the Sun-King came home, a feeble old man. When he had eaten his supper he laid his head in his mother's lap and fell fast asleep. She began to comb his golden hair.

When she twitched out a hair, he said, "Mother, why won't you let me sleep?"

She answered, "I dreamed of a city in which a tree of golden apples bear no more fruit; and I am troubled because I cannot think what the people should do."

The Sun-King said, "They should kill the serpent that gnaws at the root of the tree."

Presently she twitched out another hair, and he said, "Mother, why can't you let me sleep?"

She answered, "I dreamed of a city in which the fountain of youth has run dry; and I am troubled because I cannot think what the people should do."

The Sun-King said, "They should kill the toad that blocks the source of the spring."

After a time she twitched out the third hair, and he said, "Mother, do let me sleep."

She answered, "I dreamed of an old ferryman on the black lake; and I wonder how he can escape so that he can die and be in peace."

The Sun-King said, "Let him hand the oars to another and jump ashore; the other must stop in his place."

Then she let him sleep.

Early the next morning he arose and flew away as a little child.

The white lady gave Nameless the three golden hairs and kissed him saying, "Now I have done all I have promised. Go back to your wife and be happy."

When he came to the city of the golden tree, and the fountain of youth, he told the two kings what they should do, and received a rich reward. When he reached the black lake, the ferryman rowed him over gladly for the news that he brought.

He arrived at home and gave the king the three golden hairs. The king was furious in his heart, but he said to himself, "I must go and drink of that wonderful spring and eat of those wonderful apples."

When he reached the black lake, the ferryman handed the king the oars and jumped out, so that the king had to stay in his place.

As he never came home again, Nameless and his beautiful wife ruled the land in peace and prosperity.