George Washington Carver [antikvár]

CHAPTER I "Oh, Mary, Don't You Weep!"Decorate the city with Stars and Stripes. Let every man know that on this eleventh day of January, year of our Lord, one thousand eight hundred and sixty-five, "by the irrevocable action of the Convention slavery is abolished in the State of Missouri, now and forever." None hereafter shall "know any master but God."Illuminate the city with bonfires. Warmth has been sent into the stone-and-iron crypt of Lynch's slave pen where human feet were chained; light has been sent down dark and narrow streets to the ominous river they will not have to travel any more.The inalienable gift of song swells. A new spiritual is born which holds all joy, all sorrow, all yearning, all endeavorthe humility of man before his God, the majesty of man who owns a living soul. And the beginning and the end is but one word. Free!St. Louis rejoiced, but who beyond the levee could know or was prepared to obey that edict?"Hush." Mary swayed in lullaby rhythm. "Hush," she whispered to the wail that rose from her arms. The January night was cold and the fire before which she warmed her sick baby was small. It flickered over James, half buried in his trundle bed, a callously healthy child who slept where he was laid. Their father used to come over from the Grant place times like this to be with her. But he was dead now. He had been hauling wood up to his master's house. "There's been an accident," they had told her.