Annals of our ancestors; one hundred and fifty years of history in the ...

CHANGES IN THE OLD HOME 195
Sophy than right here. During the last days before the war,
father found a black man who had once been a slave and was
then a wood-chopper, and so, as he wanted some clearing done,
through pity for the race he hired Bob to do it. He and
Sophy then moved into grandfather's house, where he had
free rent, whde he chopped cordwood for the city market.
For a time all went well, and then we foimd that both
negroes were addicted to drink. They had some relatives
near, who would often congregate at Bob 's while the host
would find whisky in a grogshop back in the woods. I once
met Bob with a bag over his shoulder containing two jugs, for
which he apologized by telling me he was on his way to that
shop in the woods to get vinegar. The "vinegar" made a
great riot that night. We were awakened about two o'clock
in the morning by the most blood-curdling cries of "Murder!
Murder! Murder!" which finally sank to a weak voice and a
half choke, but still the word was "Murder!" After enduring
this night of terror, Sophy had Bob arrested and swore her
life was in danger. The case was brought to court and Bob,
believing he had a firm friend in "Massa Will'um," had our
brother subpoenaed as a witness on his side. Greatly to
Bob's surprise Will witnessed against him, testifying that he
was a bad negro, so Bob was taken to jail. No language can
describe the rage of that poor, depraved soul. After he had
been in jail a week or so he bribed the jailer to let him out for
the sum of two dollars and a half.
This happened in the fall, when father and Irish Mick
were gathering apples in our south orchard. I heard a strange-
ly excited voice down there, which I instantly recognized as
Bob's. We all ran out to learn the trouble, and found that
Bob was out of jail and was vowing vengeance on all the
Watkins tribe at the top of his voice. He told father how he
would burn him out, poison his horses, and so on in a list of
revengeful acts. He had a club in his hands, outstretched in
a threatening manner. Mick was frightened out of his wits,
which Bob knew; while father kept on at his work of picking
up apples and keeping his face to the foe all the time. Mick
was soon up the ladder and in a place of safety, leaving father