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THE YARD AT TUSKEGEE.

which had been specifically intrusted to their care and honor. As the great day drew nearer, there was more singing in the slave quarters than usual. It was bolder, had more ring, and lasted later into the night. Most of the verses of the plantation songs had some reference to freedom. True, they had sung those same verses before, but they had been careful to explain that the "freedom" in these songs referred to the next world, and had no connection with life in this world. Now they gradually threw off the mask, and were not afraid to let it be known that the freedom" in their songs meant freedom of the body in this world. The night before the eventful day, word was sent to the slave quarters to the effect that

A CLASS IN HORTICULTURE

night. ancy.

something unusual was going to take place at the "big house" the next morning. There was little, if any, sleep that All was excitement and expectEarly the next morning word was sent to all the slaves, old and young, to gather at the house. In company with my mother, brother, and sister, and a large number of other slaves, I went to the master's house. All of our master's family were either standing or seated on the veranda of the house, where they could see what was to take place and hear what was said. There was a feeling of deep interest, or perhaps sadness, on their faces, but not bitterness. As I now recall the impression they made upon me, they did not at the moment seem to be sad because

of the loss of property, but rather because of parting with those whom they had reared and who were in many ways very close to them. The most distinct thing that I now recall in connection with the scene was that some man who seemed to be a stranger, a United States officer, I presume, made a little speech and then read a rather long paper-the Emancipation Proclamation, I think. After the reading we were told that we were all free, and could go when and where we pleased. My mother, who was standing by my side, leaned over and kissed her children, while tears of joy ran down her cheeks. explained to us what it all meant, that this was the day for which she had been so long praying, but fearing that she would never live to see.

She

The

For some minutes there was great rejoicing, and thanksgiving, and wild scenes. of ecstasy. But there was no feeling of bitterness. In fact, there was pity among the slaves for our former owners. wild rejoicing on the part of the emancipated colored people lasted but for a brief period, for I noticed that by the time they returned to their cabins there was a change in their feelings. The great responsibility of being free, of having charge of themselves, of having to think and plan for themselves and their children, seemed to take possession of them. It was very much like suddenly turning a youth of ten or twelve years out into the world to provide

for himself. In a few hours the g questions with which the Anglo-Sa race had been grappling for centu had been thrown upon these people to solved. These were the questions home, a living, the rearing of child education, citizenship, and the establ ment and support of churches. Wa any wonder that within a few hours wild rejoicing ceased and a feeling deep gloom seemed to pervade the sl quarters? To some it seemed that, r that they were in actual possession of freedom was a more serious thing t they had expected to find it. Some of slaves were seventy or eighty years o their best days were gone. They had strength with which to earn a living in strange place and among strange peop even if they had been sure where to f a new place of abode. To this class problem seemed especially hard. Besid deep down in their hearts there was strange and peculiar attachment to Marster" and "old Missus," and to th children, which they found it hard to thi of breaking off. With these they h spent in some cases nearly a half-centu and it was no light thing to think of pa ing. Gradually, one by one, stealthily first, the older slaves began to wand from the slave quarters back to the house" to have a whispered convers tion with their former owners as to t future.

Booker T. Washington

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

[From the "New England Magazine"]

The word is writ that he who runs may read.
What is the passing breath of earthly fame?
But to snatch glory from the hands of blame,-
That is to be, to live, to strive indeed.

A poor Virginia cabin gave the seed,
And from its dark and lowly door there came
A peer of princes in the world's acclaim,
A master spirit for the nation's need.
Strong, silent, purposeful beyond his kind,
The mark of rugged force on brow and lip,
Straight on he goes, nor turns to look behind
Where hot the hounds come baying at his hip;
With one idea foremost in his mind,
Like the keen prow of some on-forging ship.

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I'

By E. Irenæus
Prime-Stevenson

"O good old man! how well thy
name becomes thee!"-Shakespeare.

F you will take a bit of broadcloth, a bit of wood, a bit of marble, a strip of leather, a piece of iron, several fragments of paper and of bark, and samples of other substances in various sizes, and then try to glue them all fast together into one fabric for practical use, you have before you an excellent comparison with the present condition of the great Austro-Hungarian political system. Homogeneity, likemindedness, the natural wish to cohere one part to another, a common national aim, there is none, or next to none.

But

never could there come to the land such blessing as a merely natural sentiment and process. No matter what dissensions, owing to differences in blood, affiliations, language, intelligence, ambitions, impulsive speech, we can imagine the United States as possessing in the past, or present, or future, no matter what similar differences we can fancy as fighting against the unity and the future of any other great realm of our epoch, nothing equals the almost complete dissonance, the fierce under-dissension, the effort at breaking

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away from one common national government, which Austria-Hungary is experiencing. It must experience it till something occurs for the situation so much worse or so much better that we now cannot wisely be prophetic. It has been so ever since, by a most extraordinary succession of events, the great kingdoms of Hungary, Bohemia, and Galicia, and the long row of once more or less independent if smaller kingdoms, archduchies, principalities, marquisates and lordships, and so on, all slipped into the ownership of a little archduchy, Austria, which henceforth was to dominate almost all of their far more royal and imposing existences. The way in which Austria has become the "head of the family "--a sadly quarreling and ill-tempered family-reminds one of nothing so much as the way in which a "pocket" on a billiard-table catches ball after ball rolling into it, and quietly keeps them, of whatever color or value they might be. In they drop; and, helpless, there they stay, willing or unwilling. Every variety of racial temperament and soil and industry, eight absolutely different languages, with nearly fifty dialects, year by year are to be met in the Austro-Hungarian realm. Its Emperor to begin with, the name "Empire" is a misnomer when in particular connection with the mere Archduchy of Austria-its Emperor is King of nine kingdoms, including the recognized and most vital one, Hungary.

Now, we are not living in a particularly sentimental age. In politics there is not overmuch place for sentiment as a main factor. But it is not too much to say that the cohesion garment of cloth, stone, leather. iron, and so on, above figured, the holding together of this restless nd embittered collection of sovereignties, is due in a most extraordinary degree to one old factor-love. It is the love for the Emperor, the passionate affection of millions of warring hearts for a good old man. This condition of the popular mind in Austria-Hungary is not appreciated as fully outside of the Empire as it might be; any more than do foreigners in general realize how the different States under the gentle scepter of Franz Joseph are jealous of each other, hate each other, hate Austria as a political usurper, long to be free of each other, come what will. Austria-Hungary to-day hangs together by the

deserved affection, not by mere respect, for one man. He is a lonely, sorrowful man, a ruler, not so much a strong one as an earnest one, whose whole life and soul are given to the business of trying to govern the ungovernable. I do not mean to say that emphatic elements of practical prudence, of sheer powerlessness to make the first spring, and so on, do not enter into the situation of the quarreling AustroHungarian peoples. But it is certain that, at any individual risks, the Empire would long ago have gone to pieces in blood and territorial loss had not Francis Joseph come to be regarded as a prince to be spared all possible new trials, as a true father of the people, a man already so afflicted in his personal life, and a ruler of such unwearied effort for the common weal, that he must be saved anxiety and grief, at any political sacrifice.

The political story of Franz Joseph is an exceptional one, and only an altogether exceptional man, physically and mentally and morally, ever could have lived to be seventy years of age after such a regnancy. Canute and the sea-waves furnishes the nearest apologue for such a case as was his from the start. One predecessor had abdicated the throne; another one had resigned his rights and was invalid. After a most careful "home" education, Francis Joseph came to his throne suddenly, a boy of eighteen years. He mounted it in the middle of revolution at home and of wars abroad. He was utterly hateful, as a hereditary successor, to most of the very people who love him best to-day! His nearest relatives were dead or of no aid as counselors. His youthful days and nights were, as Emperor, not of pleasure and repose, but of anxiety and regret. Vienna itself was a revolutionspot; Hungary, which to-day is the greatest jewel of the Imperial succession, and devoted to its crowned King Ferencz Joseph" (you must not talk of any "Emperor of Austria" when across the Leith), would have none of him. Such was the first political outlook of the young Emperor. And, for a long time, bad counsels and unwise action by the ministry about the boy, and fierce civil wars, made bad matters worse. But, somehow, things hung together. And, just in proportion to Franz Joseph's development in years and quiet force of character, the nations under

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