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122  THE CRISIS 

you will have passed Uncle John Henderson's ribbon cane patch which lies snugly beside the road in a little field surrounded by the oak and elm trees, then you will come to Sandy Creek where brushes grow thick and trees high and dense, making it somewhat dark here even in the day time. Then there is that haunted bridge you must cross where that little spotted dog and man with no head on scared poor Frank Johnson half to death one night and made old man Bill Totten outrun his own horse, although Uncle Bill had suffered with rheumatism for thirty years. After crossing the bridge you find yourself passing that old house where Mandy Cane saw that two-headed woman in broad open daylight. Here the road begins to climb upward, leading you to a little wood-covered hill, on the summit of which is a stumpy field; in the field near the road stands a big two-room log house with a long front porch. Know now that you are in the heart of Big Sandy and at Uncle Tom Morgan's house. 

Now Uncle Tom Morgan is hardly worth describing. There was nothing in his appearance that would have made you either laugh or cry. He was just an ordinary looking old gentleman about five feet seven inches in his stocking feet, had long black whiskers on his face and his head not the least bit gray notwithstanding his toes had been bitten by the frost for fifty-five winters. But there was something very sad in Uncle Tom's character. He was a hard old sinner. He was a transgressor. One foot in the grave and the other no business out, he was as rowdy as a sixteen-year-old boy. And do you know that Uncles Mark Anderson and Dave Medlock and Aunt Peggie Pinchback, who had grown up with him (Uncle Tom) from slavery had been pleading with him for many years, trying to get him to turn from his wicked ways and cast his lot with the heaven-bound. But Uncle Tom had to have his "good whiskey" to drink and delighted as much in dancing as a college boy does in stealing a kiss from the girl he likes best. Of course Uncle Tom couldn't do the "get back" as well as he could twenty-five years before and owing to a little weakness in the back he could not cut the pigeon wing as lively as he could in days agone, but when it came to "dancing on the set" he could swing his partner and promenade as accurately as any "devilish youngster" for twenty miles around. Give him an ample supply of "good liquor" and he could dance at the head of a line of youngsters and call figures any night until eleven o'clock and kick Aunt Drusillia's bonnet off at eleven ten. 

Now about the time of this big "To-do," which was a ring play and dance combined, at Uncle Tom's house, you known Brother Harris had pitched a big battle against "Sin and Satan" down at the Sandy Creek church-house; and hearing that Uncle Tom was about to "pull-off" this big "Intertainment" at his (Uncle Tom's) home, that divine Brother Harris sent a committee to Uncle Tom asking him to wait until the meeting closed before he do this thing lest he divert the minds of the young people from the meeting and then a great curse fall upon him; but Uncle Tom, using as a basis for his argument the words of the poet: 

"Religion never was designed
To make our pleasure less," 

sought to show them that they were in error and refused to concede to their wishes. 
When Aunt Pashie Sutton heard that Uncle Tom had refused to listen to the sacred committee she hitched an unruly mule to an open top buggy and drove six miles through the red hot sunshine to Uncle Tom's house just to call him an old fool. "Never min'," she said as she drove away. "You won't come to nothing good. The way of the transgression is hard." But, deaf to all that is pure and holy, that old "good timer" only laughed the laugh of Satan and continued to send out invitations far and near, telling the young people to come out that following Saturday night and have a grand time shaking the dust from their feet a little.   

Now, when Saturday came around and darkness began to fall, and the pleasant wind from the south began to rock the lofty trees to sleep, the young people in large numbers commenced gathering in Uncle Tom Morgan's yard. There were those "good looking black boys" of Aunt Pashie Sutton's and Nathan Whitaker with his thirty dollar suit on. Wooden-leg Peter was there, and even some of them "long leg popeyed boys" from away down on Pig Creek. As soon as the moon bounced upon the skies and was peeping through the branches of the black-jack and elm trees to see who was spooning, there came down the road cripple Romey and "them Smily boys" playing their guitars as they came along, while just behind


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR 123
 
them in company with Sealy Green and Annie Kato and a host of other "good looking chickens" came Joe Pinkard with his fiddle and Frank Talton with his banjo. 

Everybody was in the best of spirits because just as a jolly crowd passed through the gate, Nathan Whitaker sneaked up among the rest and stole a kiss from Sealy Green and Wooden-leg Peter slipped his arm around Sallie Black's waist and smacked her on the jaw. And that good looking "Yaller gal" you call Pinkie Jackson had already whispered and told Wash Smily that John Clark couldn't shine the light for her that night, that he (Smiley) would be her light and her joy from that time forward. When Smily heard that he laughed loud enough to scare Aunt Drusillia's chickens off the roost and took a taste from her dainty lips while John Clark cast a jealous look in their direction. Uncle Tom Morgan was in the house arranging the barbecue and drinking a plenty of "you-know-what".

About that time some one yelled out "ring play," and everybody was suddenly seized with the merry walk-around fever. John Clark, although he had ploughed forty acres of cotton that week and, worse than that, had been suddenly "kicked" by his best girl as soon as he had come into the yard, rushed out and began to sing a ring play song, "Who's gwine to own my dad-in-law?" Then some one else offered another popular ring song, entitled "Make me up a ring. Turn!" But when that handsome Jack Sutton and tender eyed Sealy Green, arm in arm, walked up and down the center of the yard like two monarchs upon streets paved with gold, singing "You can't turn the tea like me," they all gathered around that couple, joining hands and forming a circle and the big ring began to move around. Pet Henderson, who looked "good enough to eat," wearing a red garment that fit her so well that she seemed to have been just taken out of the melting pot, came forward and everybody desired her to play in the center of the ring, because the young men were just dying for a chance to be swung around on her beautiful arms. 

When the blushing moon was now high upon the sky and the ring players had swung and sung to their hearts' content, each fellow began stealing away to some cozy corner with his best girl and the ring play was ended. Now came Uncle Tom Morgan's opportunity to organize his dance, so her got Joe Pinkard with his fiddle, the Smily boys and cripple Romey with their guitars and Frank Talton with his banjo. These he caused to be seated on a bench which he had prepared for the musicians, then the "set" was organized for the big dance, Uncle Tom being chosen to "call figures," for you must remember Uncle Tom was an expert along this line, having been a "caller of figures" for thirty years. Of course just before they began to play Uncle Tom took all the musicians into a back room and "fixed them," after which they were seated and commenced to play, - oh, my, such music, - and the big foot-shaking began.

Pet Henderson was the most popular in the ring play, but not so in the dance. You know there blew in all of a sudden as the dance began a flashy bird whom they called "Dancing Annie." She hailed from up about Penoak Creek some place and I want you to know she naturally had on the "rags." She was not pretty in the face, though tall and graceful in form, but in the ball room she was queen. Every man that was present wanted to talk with her at intervals, hoping to get to dance the next "set" with her. But Will Lynch who had plenty money and spent it freely, was there from Pig Creek and had "every devil bested" with that fish. He danced with her on every set and talked with her between times, buying her all the cold drinks and sweemeats she wanted, and she seemed not to see any other man in the room except Will Lynch. Jim Frieson tried seven times to get to talk to her and seven times she snubbed him, and Jim Frieson didn't think Will Lynch was treating him right either, so her walked out into the back yard and put five cartridge into the chamber of his British bulldog pistol.

In the meantime the dance was suspended for a while. Dancing Annie and Will had gone out into the front yard and, seated upon a big bench, were sitting so close together you couldn't get a pin between them. Jim Frieson came around the corner of the house with mischief beaming in his eyes and called Will to talk with him, just a minute, he said. Now, Will Lynch was just a little black man, but he was afraid of "no human," you know. So Will left Annie just a moment to see why Jim Frieson wished to disturb him in the midst of so much joy. After a few moments of heated discussion,