J. Poindexter, Colored Part 8

CHAPTER XI

_Afric Sh.o.r.es_

Thus is what I says to myself, very first crack out of the box and I subsequent sees no reason for to change my views. But this night at the Pastime when the subject is brung forward for discussion, I just lurks in a corner, not saying nothing myself but doing some very vigorous listening. Being a new member, the way I is, I prefers not to declare myself in at the go-off but just to sort of hang back and catch the general drift of the old heads before I commits myself.

Regardless of your private convictions it don't hurt you none, sometimes, to throw in with the majority. Traveling with the current instead of against it, you maybe is not so prominent but you gets fewer b.u.mps across your head. A minnow sliding downstream with a pa.s.sel of other minnows stands a heap better chance of leading a pleasant life than if he strives for to conspicious himself by swimming upstream all by himself. Old Brother Channel Cat is liable to come sauntering down past the towhead and see him going along there all alone, and open wide that there big mouth of his and then, little Mr. Minnow, I asks you, where is you?

So I sets and hearkens to the pow-wowing. It seems that two or three present has been swept right off their feet by the masterful preachments of this here Gabriel the Black Prophet. They is all organized up for to accept him as the chosen apostle of the colored race. It looks like they can't hardly wait for the blessed day to come when they'll pull out with him. They 'lows a lot of these here overbearing white folks is going to feel mighty funny the morning they wakes up and finds that all the black folks is done up and gone from 'em and there ain't n.o.body left for to pack their heavy burdens for 'em and wait on 'em, without they turns in and does it themselves. They says a lot more like that. And pretty soon the old camp-meeting tone comes creeping into their voices and their eyes starts shining like they was repentant sinners gathered at the mourners' bench and they begins to sort of sing their words and generally work themselves up into a state of grace.

Right about then this here U. S. G. Petty, which they calls him 'Lisses for short, speaks up. Until now he has been reared back in his chair listening, the same as I is. But now he opens up and his words. .h.i.ts them onthusiastic ones like a dipperful of ice-water throwed in their faces.

He says to 'em, he says:

"W'en does all you n.i.g.g.e.rs 'at's so homesick fur the sight of the dear Affikin sh.o.r.e aims to start on yore jubilatin' way? I is heared a lot tonight an' other times, too, 'bout this yere journey. I is heared it called a crusade an' a pilgrimage an' a whole pa.s.sel of other fancy names. But so fur, n.o.body ain't confided to me the details of the departure."

"The fust batch goes ez soon ez the fust boat is ready," says one of the true believers, name of Oscar Jordan. "An' the rest will follow wid rejoicin' on the other boats of the fleet, ez they is made ready."

"Well, me, I ain't seen hair nur hide of one boat yit," says 'Lisses, "let alone it's a whole fleet."

"But ain't you seen the pitcher of her in the litrychure w'ich the Black Prophet give out?" says Oscar.

"I has, Brother," says 'Lisses; "I suttinly has. I also has seen pitchers of the late Kaiser Ex-Wilh.e.l.lum of Germany, but that ain't no sign I 'spects to meet him strollin' up Lenox Avenue some pleasant mawnin' this comin' week."

"Yas, but the bindin' paymints is done been made on the fust ship," says Oscar. "The Grand Treasurer, w'ich he is the Black Prophet's brother-in-law by marriage, he announce' the full perticulars at the las' monster ma.s.s meetin'. He specify she is to have a cullid bra.s.s-band on bode an' a cullid string-band an' a cullid crew an' a cullid cap'n an'----"

"Uh huh!" says 'Lisses, "A cullid cap'n, huh? All right, boy, you kin give yore confidences to a cullid cap'n ef you's a-mind to. But, speakin' ez yore friend an' well-wisher I should advise you at the same time w'en you is pickin' out your fav'rit' cullid cap'n 'at you lakwise also picks out yore fav'rit' flower fur display at the memorial services in case of a storm comin' up on the way acrost the high seas. 'Cause,"

he says, "it stands to reason the higher them seas is the deeper they is; an' ef you gits yo'se'f drownded out yonder it'll be a tho'ough job.

Mind you," he says, "I ain't sayin' nothin' agin my own race so long ez they remains whar they natch.e.l.ly belongs, w'ich is on the solid ground.

But ef I'm goin' journey acros't the broad Newlantic Ocean I craves me a w'ite cap'n--yas, an' a w'ite crew, too."

One or two, including this here Oscar, tries to break in on him but he keeps right on. He says to 'em, he says:

"I wonder is you Ole Home-Weekers been figgerin' out how you is goin'

git control of yore beloved native Affika w'en you arrives safely tharin? Seems lak to me tha's a p'int w'ich you better be payin' a right smart attention to it befo'hand. 'Cause, frum whut I kin gather, w'ite folks is done already laid claim to the most part of Affika w'ich is fit fur a Christian to live in. I bet you wharever they is a diamond-mine or a gold diggin's or an ivory-mine or anythin' wuth havin', you'll find a bunch of w'ite men roostin' close't by, wid 'Posted' signs up on every hand. Whut does you aim to do 'en?"

"They ain't got no right fur to be thar in the fust place," says Oscar.

"The Prophet done oratate fully 'bout that. Didn't Affika belong to us black folkses to begin wid? Has we ever deeded it away? No, that we ain't! Then it's still our'n, ain't it? So, therefo', we goes back in force an' th'ough our chosen leaders we demands 'at these yere trespa.s.sers re-hands it back over to its rightful owners, w'ich," he says, "tha's us."

"Even so," says 'Lisses, "even so. You lands an' you demands--an' 'en whut? This yere country belonged once't upon a time to the Injuns. An'

w'ite folks come along an' chiseled 'em out of it, didn't they? They sh.o.r.e did so! But I ain't heared 'bout no gin'el movemint in favor of turnin' it back over ag'in to the Injuns. The Injuns mout feel that-a-way but I ain't 'spectin' to see many w'ite folkses votin' in favor of it.

"Lis'sen: Once't you let w'ite folks git they feets rooted in the ground an' they stays fast, reguardless of whut the former perprietors may think 'bout it. W'ite folks in gin'el is very funny that way an' more 'specially ef they is Angler-Saxons. I don't know, myse'f, whar this yere Angler-Saxony is. I done look fur it on the map an' 'tain't thar. I reckin so many Angler-Saxons must a-moved off to other parts of the world seekin' whut they could confisticate unto theyselves 'at the 'riginal country they hailed frum has done vanish'. Jedgin' by they names, some of 'em must a-been Scotch an' some of 'em must a-been Irish and plenty more of 'em must a-been English; but no matter whut they names is, they is all alak in one respec': an' tha's clingin' fast to all the onimproved real-estate w'ich they gits they hands on. I knows, 'cause I wuz born and brung up 'mongst 'em down in No'th Ca'lina. An'

they is still a right smart sprinklin' of 'em lef' 'round these yere No'the'n parts, too. You jest try to mek 'em give up somethin' w'ich they desires fur to keep on keepin' it, an' you'll find 'em a powerful onhealthy crowd to prank wid. They's a heap of talk," he says, "'bout the other races, w'ich is pourin' in yere, crowdin' 'em plum out of Noo Yawk City in time, notwithstandin' of 'em havin' been amongst the fust settlers yere. But lemme tell you somethin': Ef they wuzn' but two of them Angler-Saxons lef' in this whole town I bet you one of 'em would be the mayor an' the other'd be the chief of police. Next to holdin' on to the land, runnin' the gov'mint is the most fav'rit' sport they follows after.

"An'," he says, "ef 'at is true of this yere country, you tek it frum me it's true of Affika. Me, I looks fur a lot of cullid fun'els to tek place befo' you has yore wish 'bout regainin' yore former homestids over thar," he says. Then his tone sort of changes. "But," he says, "I has jest been statin' the argumints on the No side. I wants to be fair, so I will lakwise 'low there's somethin' to be said on yore side, too. In fact," he says, "ef only the suitable 'rangemints kin be made befo'hand, I aims to onlist myse'f in wid the movemint an' give to it,"

he says, "my most hearties' suppo't."

That seems to sort of take 'em by surprise. This here Oscar Jordan, being the most gabby one, is the first to get over his surpris.e.m.e.nt.

"How come you kin feel that way, 'Lisses," he says, "w'en fur the pas'

ten minutes you been preachifyin' agin the whole notion? How come you willin' fur to remove yo'se'f off to the perposed All-Affikin Republic ef you holds them views w'ich you jest expound?"

"Who, me?" says 'Lisses. "You got me wrong! I ain't aimin' to remove myse'f nowhars. I is mos' comfor'ble whar I is at. No suh, what I aims to do is to 'tach myse'f to the collector's office yere at home an'

handle the money-dues ez they comes a-rollin' in frum the rest of you n.i.g.g.e.rs. That's goin' be me an' my job--collectin' an' also disbursin'--'specially the las'-named."

I rises from where I is setting and I crosses to him and I extends to him the right hand of fellowship and I says to him, I says:

"You," I says, "an' me both! I nominates myse'f to he'p you wid them duties. Brother Petty," I says, "you speaks words of wisdom w'ich they sounds lak my own. Le's us two promenade fo'th into the fresh air of the evenin'," I says, "an' exchange mo' views on the subjec's of the day. I feels," I says, "'at we is goin' be agreeable companions one to the other an' vice or versa."

So from that hour we becomes good friends and sees quite much of one another. And the more I sees of him the better the cut of his jib seems to suit me. He follows after cornet-playing for a living. He plays in the orchestra at the Colored Crescent Vaudeville Theatre on the corner below where the Pastime Club is, so, what with him being in the profession and us friends and all, I thinks of him the next minute after this big idea comes to me up at the studio and that's why I goes seeking for him in West One-Hundred and Thirty-fifth Street; which without much trouble I finds him. I takes him aside and I starts telling him what I has in my mind. Before I has been speechifying to him more than a minute I can tell he's getting interested and he begs me for to continue. And when I gets through he's just acclamatious over the notion of going in partners with me on the proposition. So we spends the rest of the day and until far into the night discussing the thing from every angle.

CHAPTER XII

_Business Deals_

Bright and early next morning, along about half past ten o'clock, which is bright and early for New York, I is at Mr. Simons' offices down on Broadway. I sends my name in to him by a white boy which is on guard in an outside room amongst a lot of gold railings. In lessen no time at all the word comes back that I is to walk right in. I walks in and I finds Mr. Simons setting behind the largest desk that ever I seen, in a room mighty near big enough for a church. He acts like he's glad to see me again and he invites me for to have a seat and tell him what's on my mind because, he says, he found my conversation the day previous to be most edifying and helpful.

So I says to him, I says:

"Boss, I wants to ast you a question an' 'pun yore answer depends whither or no I'm goin' ast you a favor lakwise?"

"Shoot," he says.

I says:

"The question comes fust, w'ich it is ez follows: Ef you is earnest 'bout goin' into the mekin' of cullid pitchers fur cullid audiences, lak you told me yistiddy, I desires please, suh, to know w'en you aims to give out yore plans to the public at large th'ough the newspapers?"

He says:

"Pretty soon, I guess--just as soon as I get the scheme sort of shaped up. Why--did you want a job when we open up?"

"Naw suh, not 'at so much," I says. "I got a stiddy job now, valettin'

fur Mr. Dallas Pulliam. But I has a right smart extra time on my hands an' I is been kind of figgerin' on mebbe doin' a little somethin' on the side in my sparin' hours. An' so, whut I 'specially craves to know frum you is whether, w'en you gits ready, you intends fur to 'nounce yore plans in the cullid papers yere in this town?"

"Well," he says, "I hadn't thought of it before. But if it would mean anything to you I'd see to it, personally, that it was done and also that in the press notices your name was mentioned in a complimentary way as having given us valuable aid and advice--something of that sort. I suppose you'd like to be put in a favorable light among your friends.

Well, I don't blame you. I'm somewhat addicted to printers' ink myself.

Was that the favor you wanted to ask of me?"

"Yas suh," I says, "in a way it 'tis an' then again, in a way, it 'tain't. Yere's the idee, boss: I wants to know frum you befo'hand, ef you please, w'en you perposes to mek the 'nouncemint 'cause on 'at se'f-same day they'll be 'nother 'nouncemint in the cullid papers settin' fo'th 'at the new firm of Poindexter & Petty 'spectfully desires to state 'at they is openin' a bookin'-agency fur cullid movin'-pitcher actors in the neighborhood an' 'at lakwise also, in connection wid it, a school fur trainin' cullid folks how to ack fur the screen will later on be added on."