第53章 Chapter XV.(2)

     
     
     
     　　The molasses is then carried from the cistern into theupper story again， and by another process converted intobrown sugar.
     
     　　There are larger mills， and those constructed differentlyfrom the one thus imperfectly described， but none，perhaps， more celebrated than this anywhere on BayouBoeuf. Lambert， of New-Orleans， is a partner of Hawkins.
     
     　　He is a man of vast wealth， holding， as I have been told，an interest in over forty different sugar plantations inLouisiana.
     
     　　The only respite from constant labor the slave hasthrough the whole year， is during the Christmas holidays.
     
     　　Epps allowed us three—others allow four， five and sixdays， according to the measure of their generosity. It isthe only time to which they look forward with any interestor pleasure. They are glad when night comes， not onlybecause it brings them a few hours repose， but because itbrings them one day nearer Christmas. It is hailed withequal delight by the old and the young； even Uncle Abramceases to glorify Andrew Jackson， and Patsey forgets hermany sorrows amid the general hilarity of the holidays.
     
     　　It is the time of feasting， and frolicking， and fiddling—the carnival season with the children of bondage. Theyare the only days when they are allowed a little restrictedliberty， and heartily indeed do they enjoy it.
     
     　　It is the custom for one planter to give a “Christmassupper，” inviting the shaves from neighboring plantationsto join his own on the occasion； for instance， one yearit is given by Epps， the next by Marshall， the next byHawkins， and so on. Usually from three to five hundredare assembled， coming together on foot， in carts， onhorseback， on mules， riding double and triple， sometimesa boy and girl， at others a girl and two boys， and at others again a boy， a girl and an old woman. Uncle Abramastride a mule， with Aunt Phebe and Patsey behindhim， trotting towards a Christmas supper， would be nouncommon sight on Bayou Boeuf.
     
     　　Then， too， “of all days i’ the year，” they array themselvesin their best attire. The cotton coat has been washedclean， the stump of a tallow candle has been applied tothe shoes， and if so fortunate as to possess a rimless ora crownless hat， it is placed jauntily on the head. Theyare welcomed with equal cordiality， however， if theycome bare-headed and bare-footed to the feast. As ageneral thing， the women wear handkerchiefs tied abouttheir heads， but if chance has thrown in their way afiery red ribbon， or a cast-off bonnet of their mistress’
     
     　　grandmother， it is sure to be worn on such occasions.
     
     　　Red—the deep blood red—is decidedly the favorite coloramong the enslaved damsels of my acquaintance. If ared ribbon does not encircle the neck， you will be certainto find all the hair of their woolly heads tied up with redstrings of one sort or another.