Harpeth Hall School - Milestones Iris Yearbook (Nashville, TN)

Page 26 text:

iLD EPH went up in a balloon, and this is what his companion heard him say: Great scott ! chilluns, I tell you I wus powerful anxious to git in dis ' ere consarn, but, laws-a- me! I ' se gitting still more anxious to be back down dar to home. It ' peared to me, ' fore I git in, dat I could see y-ou ' ns walking ' bout down dar wid yo ' mammy, but shoo! can ' t see nuthin ' but de forg. I ' minds mysel ' of dat fedder which yo ' know ' d to come outer our ole black ' ooster ' s back dat windv day, an ' it flewed ' way up in de air, an ' nebber wus seen no more; but laws, chillun, I mustn ' t be a talkin ' so solium, kase I hopes dat dis ' ere black fedder of a nigger in dis ' ere bulloon will soon git back down dar. I consumplate dat de corn crap will be puny while dis yere forg lasts. I ' se powerful glad mammy put in my overcoat, fur sometimes I feels like we ' d done tuck an ' got hainged up in de nawth, an ' den, agin, I feels like I wus in spittin ' distance of de sun. Nebber mind, y ' u all be peart a helpin ' yo ' mammy: an ' pap will soon be to home. I ' se ' srinnin ' to feel my rheumatiz in mv laigs, an ' I wishes mightily fur de goose grease.

Page 25 text:

Lines to a Picture I Tender Memories ) J Tender lines, so faithfully drawn — The bowed white head, the simple cap, The shawl of black, whose simple folds About her trembling shoulders wrap. IV. Her trembling fingers tightly clasp A little shoe, a golden curl ; How green the grass that years has grown On the grave of grandma ' s baby girl. II. The weary head rests on her hand, The gathering tears are falling fast, And crowding round with gentle tread Come memories of the past. Some small black trousers, proudly worn By Little Jack, her lovely boy; The small gray coat, the velvet cap, His tiny shirt, the broken toy. Her bridal wreath of flowers gay, Now yellow, torn and aged ; The wedding ring and veil of white, The bracelet worn when first engaged. VI. Husband, children, all are gone, Resting in the arms of God, And only tender memories left Of those that sleep beneath the sod. Garnet Noel.

Page 27 text:

Well, I ' 11 be blessed! If dis here air horse ain ' t a goin ' back down thro ' de air like a bullet. O little ehilluns, how my haid is a swimmin ' . I feels like I did dat day when I stole too much of mammy ' s wine outer de chist. O sweet ehilluns, I knows I is gwine to die, fur my haid is done gone plum destracted ! O good Gawd! honnies, if yo ' pap ain ' t a gwine down into de sea. Oh, if de good Marster would jest save this pore ign ' rint nigger till de corn crap is laid by, so Marindy an ' de chillun won ' t starve. O honnies, yo ' pap ' s in a critical condition. O please, good Marster, tell dis yere hornet of a balloon not to take me down into de sea, but save dis pore critter jest dis time. De next thing you knowed, I ' 11 be gwine down into de water jest like a big black bottle, wid de same gurgling noise an ' all. But somehow, little ehilluns, a big wind has done tuck an ' sot me squar ' down in my own cornfield, an ' I knows Marindy will never know me, fur I ' se done thanked de Lord till I ain ' t nuthin ' but skin an ' bones. Louise Wright.