Opening, part 14
Opening, part 14 of «Negro myths from the Georgia coast, told in the vernacular» by Charles C., Jr. Jones: the whole text, 153 sentences and 2714 words. The small number after every sentence leads to its own page with its syntax tree and pragmatics, parsed by Mova itself.
How do they look?1 “Same luk wen dem bin libe, ceptin dem look lucker shadder, an dem walk backwuds, an dem face tun backwud, an de heel teh eh foot day way eh toe orter be.2 Dem dont tetch de groun wid dem foot, but dem sorter dis skim pon topper de grass.3 Dem so light dem cant mek track.”4
What garments do they wear?5 “Same cloze wuh dem bury een.6 Way dem gwine git any mo?7 De cloze hab eh shape, but you kin see dey yent nuttne eenside er um.”8
What do they do?9 “Nuttne, so fur es me know, cept walk bout, wisit dem ole home, an notus wuh duh gwine on sence dem leff.”10
Do they ever trouble anybody?11 “No, me nebber see dem trubble nobody.12 Dem wunt talk ter you.13 Dem go een gang ob two er tree, an wander bout tel sich an sich er time, wen dem haffer go back ter dem grabe.14 Me see dem wuk dem mouf same luk dem bin er talk ter one anurrer, an shake dem head, an pint dem finger.15 Dem onderstan one anurrer.16 Me bin question dem mo na once, but dem nebber will mek answer.17 Heap er time me jine compny wid dem der big road, an try fuh gage dem een conbersation, an fine out who dem yis, an how dey mek out; but dem nebber will tell me, an, befo long, look luk dem git bex, an den dey fade way een de wood an leff me lone een de road.”18
Can you recognize them?19 “Yes, Mossa, ef I bin know dem befo dey dead, I kin know dem now.20 Me kin see dem dist es plain es me kin see you now.21 Only tarruh night me bin comin from Barnedo plantation.22 Dest es I cross de causeway an rise de hill by Shannul ole buryin-groun me see Miley,--wuh bin dead de year arter freedom,--duh lean genst one oak tree sider de road.23 Day dis biggin fuh broke.24 Me gone up ter um an me try fuh pass de time er day wid um, fuh me yent bin see um sence dat rainy ebenin wen we bury um in Shannul.25 Miley look say eh bin want fuh ax me someting; an den, all ob a sutten, eh check isself, an eh tun roun an mek off fuh de grabe-yad.26 Me foller um, an wen eh come teh eh own grabe eh pit eh head down, an eh gie two er tree whul, an down eh gone.27 Me walk up en sarche de grabe.28 Me cant fine out how Miley git een.29 De grass yent mash.30 De groun yent broke; no hole day: an yet me see um, wid me own yeye, gone down, head foremose, een eh grabe.31
“Las winter me en George bin er hunt possum een Jerrido bottom.32 We bin ketch two fat possum, an dest befo we mek up we mine fuh go back home we buil one fire fuh wam weself.33 De night berry cole.34 Wen we bin er wam we han an we foot roun de fire, yuh come ole Uncle Andrew, wuh nusen ter dribe fur ole Mossa, an ole Uncle Jupter, wuh bin de gadner, an ole Aunt Peggy.35 Dem walk up tarrur side de fire an look at we, but dem yent bin crack eh teet ter we.36 Me see dem plain, en me try fuh pint dem out to George.37 Him couldnt shum, cause George yent bin born wid caul.38 De dog nebber notus um.39 Bimeby George hair biggin fuh rise.40 George skade, an we leff fuh de nigger house.41
“You member Jacob wuh dem bin heng een de Boro?42 Well, me an Sam meet um one moon-shiny night een de big road, wid de een er de rope tie roun eh neck.43 Me kin tell you bout heap er people me bin meet an see arter dem done dead an bury.44 Me shum mose ebry night.45 Me kin show you some ter-night ef you bin born wid caul.46 Many time dem people wuh cant see sperit come pon top dem an dunno nuttne bout um.47 Enty wen you duh walk long de road der night you suttenly feel hot win bresh by you cheek?48 Enty you sometime smell dead man finger?49 Enty you yeddy bush crack der wood wen de win yent der blow?50 Dem duh sperit, but you no know.51 Sperit der walk close by you, but you no shum.52 Me could pint dem out an tell you who dem yiz.”53
Are you not afraid of these spirits?54 “No, Mossa; wuh me gwine fade um fuh?55 Dem nuttne cept de shape er people wid de sperit eenside.56 De bone an meat done leff um.57 Dem cant hot nobody.58 Eh breff cant pizen you; an ef eh did knock at you, eh dis same es ef win try fuh hit you.”59
Why do they come out of their graves?60 “Me dunno, cept dem want fuh see one anurrer, an wisit dem ole home, an look pon topper dem ole fren.”61
Are they all grown?62 “No, sir; you see dem all size, leetle an big, man an ooman, gal an boy, an leely baby.63 My leely Sue, wuh dead, blan come an play bout de house ebry now an den.64 One time me try fuh ketch um up in me arm, but me han gone clean tru um dis luk er shadder, an den eh wanish, an me so sorry.”65
These notions of July may be accepted as typifying the belief on this subject entertained by the great majority of the negroes on the coast.66 Many went a step further, and invested these ghosts and “sperits” with the ability to intervene in mundane affairs, and to entail harm and misfortune upon those with whom they had not lived amicably while in the flesh.67 It was the belief of some of the African tribes that the power of a ghost bore some relation to that which the being possessed when alive, and it may be that an inherited thought affords at least a partial explanation of the ideas still entertained by their descendants upon the shores of this New World.68
LXI.69
DADDY JUPITER’S VISION.70
Dreams are intimately associated with the lower forms of religion....71 During sleep the spirit seems to desert the body; and as in dreams we visit other localities and even other worlds, living as it were a separate and different life, the two phenomena are not unnaturally regarded as the complements of one another.--SIR JOHN LUBBOCK.72
Daddy Jupiter was an old man when I first knew him.73 In the capacity of a body servant he had accompanied his master during the campaign of 1812-15; and this fact, apart from his excellent character, elevated him in the esteem of all.74 For many years prior to his death he was practically “off duty,” keeping in-doors whenever he did not feel entirely well, and in pleasant weather working in the vegetable garden.75 He was fond of his chickens and pigs, and cultivated on his own account a small patch where arrowroot, long collards, sugar-cane, tanniers, ground-nuts, benne, gourds, and watermelons grew in commingled luxuriance.76 A widower and without children, he led, in the main, a retired life; seldom visiting at the houses of the other negroes on the plantation, but always chatting pleasantly with all who came to see him.77 At the “Praise-House” his seat was never vacant when his health permitted him to be present, and he filled the office of a “watchman” upon the plantation.78 It was the duty of one occupying that station to advise in spiritual matters, to lead in the semi-weekly prayer-meetings, to set an example which others might well follow, and to counsel in all religious difficulties.79 Although somewhat quick-tempered, and jealous of that respect which he deemed his due from others, he was upright, honest, full of Christian sentiment, and pronounced in his condemnation of everything savoring of evil.80 In a word, he was a man of good reputation, enjoyed the confidence of his fellows, stood high in his church, and was supposed to be in special favor with the Lord.81
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