Evening Star Newspaper, April 20, 1930, Page 85

D. C, ATRIL 20, 1930. e e N T —— Il--4-lgj".yh?' axon he Sunday Star’s Magazine. uthor of ““‘Fabu- rather Mississip- " Gives a Color- e Manners and ern Darky Plan- tide. es, Lawd, de Resurrection of Jesus! Ve thinks ’bout it. /e lies down wid it an’ we gits up wid it ause all ouh hopes is built up bn de resurrection of de dead. ome mens says we dies n’ dies fo’ good. n some mens says dat we don't git up no mo’; t I don't believe dat, Lawd. n’ my people heah don’t believe dat! p, suh! I believed dat, I wouldn't be heah dis mawnin’. b, I wouldn't be a-preachin’ an’ a- prayin’ heah. b, suh! We is heah because we we believes . . . e all tryin’ to belong to You, Lawd. e all chillen of Gawd. pybe you ax me: What is chile of Gawd? tell yo’, I'll tell yo'! e got to be humble, e got to be meek. uh! We got tuh be like lil’ chillun. R LY e guthering [or a sunrise service, ;51!"‘(' AN R P o 3T Easter is picnic day on the plantation. An’ me, myself, I'm a witness, Lawd, Yes, a witness to de Resurrection. I done seed fuh myself . . . Yes, I seed Him rise An’ I seed Him good. He rose up, way up, in muh soul! “IAY up! Way up in muh soul! The congregation cries out in ecstasy. There are shouts of agreement: “I see Him rise, an’ I see Him good!” and “Yes, Lawd!” His soul done spring up like a grain of cawn. You know cawn? You done see it sprout? Dat’s me, and dat’'s you! An’ dat’s Jesus! We sproutin’ up. We springin’ up. Yes, sproutin’ up in de Springtime of de yeah! Dat’s de Resurrection of Jesus! Sproutin’ up! Comin’ back to life! Risin’ high! Look yonder! It's gettin’ daylight! Soon yo’ll see de trees, scon yo'll see de flowers! Soon yo’ll see de sunrise! Jesus, is dat You? Outside the first gray daylight is show=- ing at the windows, and within the church the Negroes shout and sing. Presently the preacher’s voice is heard again, quieter this time: O, lemme be like Jesus, Lemme be dressed up in white! Cause we know, Jesus, dat de time is come, De time of Resurrection. It’s time fo’ de first fruit to come. De first peach, an’ de first plum. Mos’ time fo’ de first watermelon. All dem fruits come hangin’ on de trees. Or bustin’ from de groun’, An’ we know what dat means, It means Resurrection! ‘We goin’ tuh rise! " Oh, Angel, I want vo’ to come down to earth dis mawnin’— Come swift on de mawnin’ light! Come roll de stone from off my heart! Roll it away, Angel, cause it's a heavy stone! Outside the light is brighter and the- By is growing rosy with dawn. Inside e church the Negroes are moaning and crying and shouting 2loud. preacher As the continues the excitement grows: Some of these days . . . Trumpet gein’ tuh sound! " An’ Jesus is goin’ tuh get up and ride de air! He goin’ tuh shout and clap His hands! An’ call us all to Resurrection. We’ll answer you, Jesus! Heah we come! Every tombstone will bust open! We all goin’ tuh get up! We'll meet ouh Lawd in de middle of de air! A fambly from heah, an’ a fambly from theah! From de river, an’ from de sea! Frcm de woods, an’ from under dc trees! We'll meet ouh Jesus in de middle of de air, An’ never cry no mo’! The congregation is standing now, shouting aloud. In the early light you can see black faces streaked with tears. Many are lying on the floor before the pulpit, crying. Old Aunt Patsy stands with her arms lifted high, her head thrown back. She cries out: “Lawd! = Please, Lawd!” e AS the round, red sun mounts above ecstasy, the horizon the singing rises to wordless meldoy, infinitely sweet. Women shriek and fall exhausted upon the fioor. Men dance and clap their hands. The church is a mass of swaying, gesticulating figures, shouting to the rising sun. Suddenly it is over. The preacher raises his arms for silence. There is a short prayer; and, singing, the Negroes march from the church. AR'm goin’ tuh see my friends again on dat great Risin oS Ah'm goin’ tuh see my friends again, Halleloo . . .! Outside there is a babble of talk. Friends greet each other; groups form. Many will spend the day at the chureh, for there will be another service at noon —a service which will last until nearly twilight. Accordingly, Easter is a picnic day on the plantation. Now the Negroes « ar building fires under the trees. Coffec is being dripped. Baskets are opened and breakfast is prepared. Little black children have their hands full of dyed Easler eggs, yellow, red and blue. OLD AUNT PATSY comes up to you and presents you with a gorgeous purple Easter egg. She is demure and smiling. It is hard to reconcile her bent figure with that hysterically shouting woman that you saw just now in the church. The egg is very handsome and you protest against such a magnificent gift; it is too much for you to accept without reciprocating in some way. So you give her your tobacco pouch in re- turn. She lights her pipe at once, and, squinting at you as she ho'ds the match. says, “Didn't Ah shout nice?” ‘Henry has decided to remian for the midday service, so you return alone through the woods. The sun gilds the treetops, but beneath the branches it is still dim. In the clearings dew glitters on grass and clover. You ride slowly, lost in an Easter dream, and your horse nibbles at depending vines. At last the cotton field lies before you, gold in the sun. In the highroad the automobiles go whizzing by. In the distance you can see the big house of the plantation. with blue smoke curling up from the kitchen chimney. It is nearly break- fast time.