e thought it wuz somebody a jumpin' up
and down on de flo. Den we knowed dat it wuz sumpin else er makin' dem
dishes fall out o' de cupboard. At fus we thought it wuz Judgment day,
kaise ev'ry thing started fallin' worser and worser. De dishes fell so
fast you couldn't pick'em up. Some of us went down to de spring. De
white fokes, dey come along wid us and dey make us fetch things from de
big house, like fine china dat de Missus didn't want to git broke up.
She tole us dat it wuz er earthquake and it wasn't no day o' Judgment.
Anyway, we lowed de white fokes might be wrong, so us niggers started to
a prayin', and den all de niggers on de plantation dat heerd us, well de
come along and jined wid us in de prayin' and singin'. Us wuz all a
shakin' mos as bad as de earth wuz, kaise dat wuz a awful time dat we
libbed through fer bout twenty minutes--de white fokes lowed it lasted
only ten, but I ain't sho about dat. When we got back to de big house,
de cupboard in de kitchen had done fell plum' down. In de nigger houses,
de chimneys mos all fell in, and de chicken houses ev'rywhar wuz shuck
down. While we wuz a lookin' aroun, and de wimmen fokes, dey wuz a
takin' on mightily another shake come up. Us all took fer de spring
agin; dis one lasted bout long as de first one. Us prayed and sung and
shouted dis time. It sho stopped de earth a shakin' and a quiverin'
some, kaise dat thing went on fer a whole week; ceptin de furs two wuz
de heaviest. All de other ones wuz lighter. Iffen it hadn't been fur us
all a beggin' de Lawd fer to sho us his mercy, it ain't no tellin' how
bad dem shakes would er been. Miss Becky Levister, you know her, she
live up yander in your uncle John's house now, she wuz wid us. She wuz
jus a little girl den. Her paw wuz Mr. Kelly. He died for ever you wuz
born. Not long ago I seed her. She lowed to me, 'uncle Henry, do you
recollect in de time o' de shake? Lacken she think I'd fergit such as
dat. It wuz in de time o' de worsest things dis ole nigger is ebber seed
hisself, and I is gwine on 82 now. Miss Becky, she wuz a settin' in her
car wid some one drivin' her, but she ain't fergot dis ole nigger. If I
is up town and Miss Becky, she ride by, she look out and lows' 'Howdy
uncle Henry', and I allus looks up and raises my hat. I likes mannerable
white fokes, mysef, and den, I likes mannerable niggers fer as dat goes.
Some of dese fokes, now both white--I hates to say it--and niggers, dey
trys to act like de