She knowed more den de doctors, 'case
God tole her what to give;

She knowed more den de preachers, 'case
God tole her how to live.

Dat ole plantation hit was run
On 'rangements 'bout like dis:
De place hit b'longed to Master, but
Ole Master b'longed to Mis'!

WHEN MANNERS WERE IN BLOOM

You say you would paint my manners too
Along wid my head-if you could;
Well, you should have lived in olden times
When manners was really good!

De days was sweet an' warm an' long,
Wid plenty of time to be kine,

An' every one smiled an' bowed an' scraped
An' every one did it fine!

I seem to smell de locust flower

Heavy after rain—

An' de ghostly scent of mimosa blooms
Comes blowin' back again;

An' I feels de fine ole mannerly times
Mix wid de scents till I seem

To see ole Master as natchel as life-
Bow in a kin' of dream:

His manners was certainly quality ways,
De finest dat ever I see;

Dough folks used to laugh an' say dat he took
Dem gilt-edged ways from me!

THE WORST OF WAR

When my young master went to war
He carried me wid him too,
An' dough I never fired a shot
Dere was plenty else to do.

He wore de sword an' buttons an' spurs,
An' none was so brave as he;
But never so hard a thing did he do
As the thing he lef' for me.

Where a storm of leaden hail fell thick
He got a ball in his heart

An' died wid a happy smile on his face—
But mine was de harder part:

I led his horse back home where dey sat
Expectin' him-an' I saw

Mistis' an' Master's hearts when dey broke

An' dat was de worst of war!

ME AND MAMMY

Me and Mammy know a child,
About my age and size,

Who, Mammy says, won't go to Heaven
'Cause she's so grown and wise.

She answers "Yes" and "No," just so-
When grown folks speak to her,
And laughs at Mammy and at me,
When I say "Ma'am" and "Sir."

And Mammy says the reason why
This child's in such a plight,
Is 'cause she's had no Mammy dear,
To raise her sweet and right.

To stand between her and the world
With all its old sad noise,
And give her baby-heart a chance
To keep its baby joys.

Then Mammy draws me close to her
And says, "the Lord be praised;
Here's what I calls a decent chile,
'Case hit's been Mammy-raised!"

A VOICE OF THE NIGHT

Wide and warm lies the Southern night,
Steeped in purple dusk;

Calm except for the scented winds
That stir the jessamine's musk,
And silent-until a sudden Voice
Piercing the night is heard,

And the quiet, fragrant world awakes
To the song of a Mocking-bird.

Was it a dream that suddenly stirred
The sleeping bird to bliss

And woke his passionate eager heart
To rapture such as this?

Or was it that, from his lofty nest,
He saw in the East a ray

Of faint but certain dawn-and laughed
Because of Hope and Day!

[1759-1825]

IN

ROBERT K. MASSIE

N the year 1800 appeared what may fairly be considered the first biography of George Washington ever published-a short sketch written by the Reverend Mason Locke Weems. This 'Life of Washington' gained immediate popularity and was soon re-written and enlarged by the author. The enlarged edition proving still more successful, Weems continued to re-write and amplify until, before his death, the book had passed through twenty-one editions and reached its final proportions of an octavo volume of two hundred and fifty pages.

When it is remembered that this book has passed through more than seventy editions, a record equaled by very few books of American authors, and that it was one of the half dozen classics that largely influenced the character and ideals of Abraham Lincoln, it will be seen that its author must be included in any moderately complete list of American writers.

Mason Locke Weems was born in Anne Arundel County, Maryland, October 11, 1759. His father, David Weems, came when a boy from Scotland, and afterward married Esther Hill of Maryland. From this couple is descended the present Weems family of Maryland, founders of the Weems line of steamers.

Mason Weems went to Edinburgh for his education, and is thought to have decided while there to enter the ministry of the Episcopal Church. He had traveled widely as a boy, going with his brother in the latter's sailing-ship on voyages lasting several years. These voyages furnished an outlet for the energies of an active youth, and no doubt helped to give him that interest in men and things, and that breadth of sympathy which afterward characterized him and which is evident in his writings.

In 1782, there being no bishop in America, he went to England seeking Episcopal ordination, and was perhaps ordained by the Bishop of London in the latter part of the year 1784; though there is a family tradition that, owing to his strong American sympathies, he was unable to obtain orders in England and went to Denmark for that purpose. Investigations recently made in London and Copenhagen. have failed thus far to settle the matter. There is, however, an interesting letter from Benjamin Franklin to Weems, written July 18,