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By Root 1589 0

’n’bout dem England’s ships shootin’ at some big fort near roun’ Baltimore.” And Miss Malizy half talked and half sang what she had heard. Later that afternoon, there was an odd noise outside, and the grown-ups hurried to open their cabin doors and stood astonished: George had stuck a long turkey feather through his hair and was high-stepping along, banging a stick against a dried gourd and singing loudly his own version of what he had overheard from Miss Malizy: “Oh, hey, can you see by dat dawn early light ... an’ dem rockets’ red glare ... oh, dat star-spangle banner wavin’ ... oh, de lan’ o’ de free, an’ de home o’ de brave—”

Within another year the boy’s gift for mimicry had become slave row’s favorite entertainment, and one of George’s most popular requests was for his impression of Massa Lea. First making sure that the massa was nowhere near, then slitting his eyes and grimacing, George drawled angrily, “Less’n you niggers pick dis fiel’ o’ cotton clean fo’ dat sun set, y’all ain’t gon’ git no mo’ rations to eat!” Shaking with laughter, the adults exclaimed among themselves, “Is you ever seed anything like dat young’un?” ... “I sho’ ain’t!” ... “He jes’ a caution!” George needed but a brief observation of anyone to mock them in a highly comical way—including one big-house dinner guest, a white preacher, whom the massa had taken afterward to preach briefly to the slaves down by the chinquapin tree. And when George caught his first good glimpse of the mysterious old Mingo who trained the massa’s fighting gamefowl, George was soon aping perfectly the old man’s peculiar hitching gait. Catching two squawking barnyard chickens and holding them tightly by their legs, he thrust them rapidly back and forth as if they were menacing each other while he supplied their dialogue: “Big ol’ ugly buzzard-lookin’ rascal, I’m gon’ scratch yo’ eyes out!” to which the second chicken replied scornfully, “You ain’t nothin’ but half a mouthful o’ feathers!”

The following Saturday morning, as Massa Lea routinely distributed the slave row’s weekly rations, Kizzy, Sister Sarah, Miss Malizy, and Uncle Pompey were standing dutifully before their cabin doors to receive their share when George came tearing around a corner chasing a rat, then screeched to a stop, having only narowly missed colliding with the massa. Massa Lea, half amused, affected a gruff tone: “What do you do to earn your rations around here, boy?” The four grown-ups all but collapsed as nine-year-old George, squaring his shoulders confidently and looking the massa straight in the eye, declared, “I works in yo’ fields an’ I preaches, Massa!” Astounded, Massa Lea said, “Well, let’s hear you preach, then!” With five pairs of eyes upon him, George took a step backward and announced, “Dis dat white preacher you brung down here, Massa—” and suddenly he was flailing his arms and ranting, “If you specks Uncle Pompey done took massa’s hog, tell massa! If you sees Miss Malizy takin’ missis’ flour, tell missis! ’Cause if y’all’s dat kin’ o’ good niggers, an’ doin’ well by yo’ good massa an’ missis, den when y’all die, y’all might git into de kitchen of heab’n!”

Massa Lea was doubled over with laughter even before George finished—whereupon, flashing his strong white teeth, the boy launched into one of Miss Malizy’s favorite songs, “It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, O Lawd, a-standin’ in de need o’ prayer! Not my mammy, not my pappy, but it’s me, O Lawd, a-standin’ in de need o’ prayer! Not de preacher, not de deacon, but me, O Lawd, a-standin’ in de need o’ prayer!”

None of the adults had ever seen Massa Lea laugh so hard. Obviously captivated, he clapped George across the shoulders, “Boy, you preach around here anytime you want to!” Leaving the basket of rations for them to divide among themselves, the massa went off back toward the big house with his shoulders shaking, glancing back over his shoulder at George, who stood there happily grinning.

Within weeks that summer, Massa Lea returned from a trip bringing two long peacock plumes. Sending Miss Malizy out to the fields to get George, he