Judge Holmsted. They paid their accounts in various ways:
some brought small lots of cotton, others poultry and pigs,
while one, an aged bachelor recluse of uncertain temper, just
before his death had willed to the judge forty acres of land.
This, people inclined to be humorous asserted, was in the way
of a subtle revenge, for the Judge, suing for the old man, had
lost his case, and the hill forty, as it was known, was not considered worth the tax payments.
There had been excessively poor crops. Years, too, when the cotton raised had not paid operating expenses. Twice the Judge had borrowed money—which he still owed—in advance on his crops. And the present outlook, with the late spring rains and cultivation sadly hampered, was now worse than ever.
Even his plainly dwindling income did not cause him to forsake his ideals. These, he insisted, one must cling to, even though he go down with them. Certain other changes, though, had forced themselves on him. Horses and other stock had been sold, since the plantation would not longer support them in numbers. Now all that remained were a few work mules and the Judge’s own mount, Grover Cleveland. Servants were dispensed with until all of them, save one, had gone. She stayed.
Christened Alabama, she was variously called Miz’ Bama, Sis ’Bama, and ’Bama, the form of address depending on the degree of intimacy she permitted the speaker, the Judge and those of her race whom she considered her equals using the last named. She had remained at Holmacres after all the others had left, though her wage was more often a mirage than a reality. Latterly, continued urging by certain of her friends that she leave Judge Holmsted’s service and go to the city, where her skill as a cook would return her a fabulous income, always met with scornful rebuff.
“But he ain’t payin’ you nothin’,” the tempter would insist.
“’Sposin’ he ain’t?” ’Bama, hands on her ample hips, would face the speaker. “You is fergittin’ somep’m, ain’t you? What ’bout my social p’sition?”
Usually this ended the discussion, for ’Bama, born and reared in the atmosphere of Holmacres, was the recognized leader of her people in the vicinity. No wedding was complete without her in the rôle of general adviser and master of
