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Floyd's Flowers; Or, Duty and Beauty for Colored Children / Being One Hundred Short Stories Gleaned from the Storehouse of Human Knowledge and Experience: Simple, Amusing, Elevating cover

Floyd's Flowers; Or, Duty and Beauty for Colored Children / Being One Hundred Short Stories Gleaned from the Storehouse of Human Knowledge and Experience: Simple, Amusing, Elevating

Chapter 38: XXXIII. A MIDNIGHT MISHAP.[5]
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About This Book

The collection gathers one hundred short, illustrated pieces aimed at young readers, particularly colored children, combining moral tales, practical advice, and brief biographical sketches. Stories and essays promote virtues such as honesty, industry, patience, self-help, and temperance while addressing common childhood behaviors and dilemmas. Interspersed are sketches of notable figures, humorous anecdotes, and guidance on reading, play, and conduct. Simple language and plentiful illustrations are intended to instruct and elevate while entertaining.

XXXIII.
A MIDNIGHT MISHAP.[5]

A Midnight Mishap.

Uncle Ned returned from his ’possum hunt about midnight, bringing with him a fine, fat ’possum. He built a glowing fire, dressed the ’possum, pared and split the sweet potatoes, and pretty soon he had the “’possum an’ ’taters” in the oven. While the meal was cooking Uncle Ned amused himself with his favorite old banjo. When the ’possum had been baked brown and crisp he took it out of the oven and set it on the hearth to give it time to cool. Mentally congratulating himself upon the glorious repast he thought soon to enjoy, he sat silently for awhile in the old armchair, but presently he was snugly wrapped in the arms of “tired nature’s sweet restorer—balmy sleep.”

It happened that two young fellows who were pretty well acquainted with Uncle Ned’s habits had been stealthily watching about the house waiting this particular chance. As soon as they were convinced that the old man was safe in the arms of Morpheus, they crept into the house and hurriedly helped themselves to Uncle Ned’s supper, including even the coffee and bread. When they finished the hasty meal, by way of attempting to cover up their tracks, they smeared Uncle Ned’s hands and mouth with the ’possum gravy and then beat a retreat.

After a time Uncle Ned aroused from his peaceful slumber. It is needless to say that he had dreamed about his supper. At once he dived down to inspect the viands, when, lo and behold, the hearth was empty! Uncle Ned steadied himself and studied awhile.

“Well,” said he finally, “I must ’a’ et dat ’possum; I must ’a’ et dat ’possum in my sleep!”

He looked at his hands. They were greasy. He smelt his hands. As he did so he said:

“Dat smells like ’possum grease! I sho must ’a’ et dat ’possum.”

He discovered grease on his lips. Out went his tongue.

“Dat tas’es like ’possum grease,” he said. He got up. He looked about the house. There was no sign of intruders. He rubbed his stomach. He resumed his seat, and, giving up all for lost, he said:

“Well, ef I did eat dat ’possum, hit sets lightah on my appertite dan any ’possum I evah et befo’.”