for investigation. If the people of Frederick will respond to the expectations we are now indulging in regard to their wealth of traditional faiths, we shall soon have much valuable material to report.[1]
From another organization at Earleigh Heights, Anne Arundel County, fine material is coming in. Here we have found a good collector, Miss Mary Speers, from whose folk-tales I select the following:—
THE ORIGIN OF THE BLACK MAN.
Once 'pon a time ole Nick got lonesome down en his dominyun, so he tho't, "I 'll go up an' pay a visit on yarth en see how 'tis up dar;’" so hup 'e come, en de fust t'ing he seed wuz a ape. "Lo'd a mussy!" sezee, "wat kind o' man is dis? I hain't got none o' dem kind down in my quarters," sezee, "en dat 'll neber do ’t all." So up 'e prances ve'y pompous like, en sezee, "Howdy!" en de ape, he say nuthin' 't all; en 'e keeps on axin' heeps o' questions, an' de ape, he say nuthin'; den he keeps on wid mo' questions, an' de ape, he say nuthin' all de time. Den Mr. Satin, he,—he storm, storm, an' den he cussed de ape—en lo en 'old! de ape, den an' dar, he tu'n to a brack man. En dat 's how de w'ite man done count fer de nigger bein' on yarth.
HOW THE NEGRO GOT THE NAME OF COON.
Dar wuz once a slaveholder who 'ad five 'undred slaves, en 'e had one 'e thought heeps ob, en 'is name 'uz John; so dis yere John, wen 'e thought dar wuz anything his marster wanted, 'e 'd tek it en go hide it, so 'is marster could n't find it; en 'is marster 'uld hunt round en ax de yudder slaves, en dey couldn’t fin' it. Den 'e 'd ax John, en John 'uld put one han' in 'is pocket, en scratch is head wid de yudder han' en say, "Wait a minute, marster, lemme t'ink," Den 'e 'd say, "Marster, come, I t'ink I kin tell yo' rite whar 's it; I 's a forchune tellar, I is;" en he rite en put 'is han' on it. So 'e keeps up fo' years, ebery t'ing wuz de same way, en de marster thought 'e wuz sho' nuff forchune tellar. So one day de marster wuz at some kiner high feast 'r yuther, en dar wuz a hole lot o' high folks, wealthy gemmuns, an' dey gotter bettin'; en dis yere gemmun, de marster, bet dey could n't name nuffin dat dis John ob his'n couldn't tell whar's it. So dey keeps on a bettin' twell de marster bet twell 'e 'd bet all 'is property, all 'is slave; he didn't hab nuffin lef'.
- ↑ News has just been received from Frederick telling that folk-lore collections among the schools have been begun by a few of the teachers. (We are especially glad to report that a Folk-Lore Society has been formed at Annapolis, which is a rich field for the collector. This society was formally organized in October, and is now in good working order, having regular meetings, and being composed of representative people, some of whom have long been studying and collecting folk-lore, merely for their own enjoyment.)
