Jean de La Fontaine - "The Fables of La Fontaine"

Herbert Wes McBride - "The Emma Gees"

L.C. - "Biografia del libertador Simon Bolivar, o La independencia"

Florence Holbrook - "Northland Heroes"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Watch Yourself Go By

A >> Al. G. Field >> Watch Yourself Go By




How did she know about Sammy Steele and his loan? It was long afterwards
that Alfred learned that Joe Thornton had confidentially imparted to
Bill Wyatt, the tavern keeper, the part that he and Steele had played in
Alfred's show life Wyatt, in turn, confidentially imparted the story,
with a few additions, to Uncle Bill. The uncle confided the story to the
family and Cousin Charley gave it to the town--but what's the use.

Professor Palmer, the artist, was to visit the family the following
Sunday. When there appeared a smallish, Yankee looking individual,
wrinkled face, a tuft of beard on his chin, similar to that bestowed
upon the comic cartoons of the face of Uncle Sam, a beaked nose, very
dirty hands and iron grey hair, sparsely sprinkled over his acorn-shaped
head, Alfred thought a farmer or stock breeder had called on his father.

When introduced by the father as "My son, Alfred, Professor Palmer,"
Alfred was taken off his feet and his idea of art dropped away down. The
only attraction of the professor was his eloquence, his ability to talk
entertainingly. This he did continuously with a pronunciation so correct
and studied that it sounded pedantic. The professor kept up his talk, as
affected at times as the hand-cuff king's stage announcements or those
of the middleman in a minstrel show.

After dinner the professor expressed a desire to take a walk with
Alfred. They walked far, the professor talked long, and became
annoyingly confidential. He said: "Your father has told me a great deal
about you and I must admit that you are a mighty smart young man. You
don't belong in this one-horse town, you should get out in the world
where there are opportunities waiting for all such as you. You could
live in this town a thousand years and you'd be just what you are now.
You have had some experience in the show line but in a line that is
beneath you; your place in the show business is higher up. I want your
advice," he continued insinuatingly. "Now, I offered John (he referred
to Alfred's father), the best thing of his life. He has worked hard all
of his days; he is deserving of something better. I have offered him a
half interest in my show. ("Holy Mother of Moses!" thought Alfred). I
have borrowed a little money from him but I need nine hundred dollars
more to put me out right. Now Jack is considering the matter. I wish
you, who know more about the show business than both of us put together,
(Alfred knew he was being flattered), would talk to him, use your
influence with him."

Notwithstanding Alfred's life's ambition to become a showman, the idea
as presented by the professor filled him with disgust. His father going
into the show business! He had pictured show life in his illusions as
one long, summer day's dream, but now it seemed the meanest of careers.
The idea of his father associating himself with such a calling was
repugnant in the extreme. Alfred could scarcely restrain his thoughts
from taking expression in wrathful words.

The man continued, not noticing Alfred's changed expression: "You could
sing and dance in this entertainment, do just what you pleased, it would
make it all the better. I'll deliver the lecture and your daddy, (he was
becoming insultingly familiar), could sit at the door and rake in the
money. Hasn't the old man talked to you about it? I've been talking to
him for six months."

"Talking to my father about going into the show business and he did not
knock you down. If he didn't he is a hypocrite." This is only what
Alfred thought; his reply was: "No, sir." He did not realize whether
"No, sir" was the answer to the professor's question or the announcement
of the decision he had come to in his mind as to the show business in so
far as his father was concerned.

The professor rattled on: "Now, you get your old man away from the women
folks and talk it over with him. It's the best thing ever offered him;
he'll get his nine hundred dollars back before a month is out. I'm going
to do business with churches and preachers wherever I can. I preached
four years in Missouri and had to give it up on account of my health; I
got stomach trouble from eating rich food. I know just how to work this
thing, and if you and your daddy go in with me we will not only make
money but have a hell of a good time."

They had arrived at the door of Alfred's home. The professor, as they
passed in, admonished Alfred to "Think it over and let me hear from
you."

The professor was soon in the midst of a description of a scene he
intended introducing in his church entertainment wherein he used living
figures. Alfred did not follow his conversation; he was trying to think,
but could not think connectedly. He could not talk to the professor, he
answered him by nods or shakes of his head. The more reticent Alfred
became the more voluble the professor grew.

At leave-taking time, the professor admonished Alfred: "Do not forget
what I told you." Alfred promised that he would not and he was sincere;
he could not have forgotten had he tried.

The professor gone, Alfred hurried to his room. Was it possible that his
father had even partially entertained an idea of joining the man Palmer
in a show scheme, the father, who had berated, abused and condemned all
and everything pertaining to shows, now favorably considering engaging
in the show business himself.

Alfred endeavored to find excuses for his father--"He was generous,
sympathetic, he was listening to the professor only to encourage him."
Alfred had never been subjected to the influence of a promoter; this was
a leaf of life yet unturned by him.

Alfred felt certain that his father had entered into some sort of an
arrangement with the professor. He felt certain the panorama man was
endeavoring to induce his father to invest money in the panorama and he
finally resolved that it should not be.

The more he thought the matter over, the more distasteful show life
appeared to him.

Then the illusion came back to him. He had dreamed by night and prayed
by day; he had lived for years with the wish, the hope that he might,
after a few years of show life, earn enough to gratify his life's
desires, to possess a farm, to own fine horses, to plant fields, to reap
harvests, to live near nature.

He figured over several sheets of white paper. He would be compelled to
labor forty years in the tannery to acquire sufficient money to buy a
farm and nearly one hundred years in the newspaper office.

Jimmy Reynolds, the clown with Thayer & Noyse Circus, received one
hundred dollars a week, board and lodging, so Alfred had been informed.
Alfred felt in the innermost depths of his soul that he was a much
better clown than Jimmy. He would secure the position now held by
Reynolds--one hundred dollars each week for thirty weeks, three thousand
dollars a year; ten years, thirty thousand dollars. Ten years a clown,
then a farm. Show business was improper for the father but the means to
attain the end for the son, as he reasoned.

When Lin found the figures and writing on the many sheets of scribbling
paper in his room, she pondered long and confusedly over them.

"What in the world hes thet consarned boy got intu his punkin' agin?
Thirty years a clown, ninety-nine years in a nusepaper, furty years in
the tan-yard, and a farmer all the rest uf my life." Then she laughed.
"He must think he'll be as ole as Methusulus got." She carried the paper
to the mother.

They confronted Alfred with the sheets on which were scribbled the
hieroglyphics. Alfred laughingly said it was a new way to tell fortunes.

Alfred decided to talk to the father the first opportunity that offered.
Father and son were seated in the front room. "Father"--Alfred rarely
addressed the parent as "father;" "Pap" was the every-day appellation
but the present matter was of greater importance--"Father, I would like
to talk to you privately and want you to answer me truthfully."

The father had his feet on a stool reclining in the big, easy chair. At
the words "answer me truthfully," the father's feet fell to the floor,
his cigar dropped until it lay on his chinbeard; the man looked at the
boy to convince himself he had heard aright.

"Why, what the h--ll tarnation do you mean?"

Alfred was frightened, his voice trembled and sounded unlike his own,
but he was determined.

"Father, I want to talk to you, come upstairs to my room."

If Alfred had not been so earnest, the scene would have been a laughable
one, as it was like burlesquing many similar scenes when the parent
addressed the boy in the same words. Alfred walked up the steps very
slowly, hoping thereby to cause the parent to follow. It was a long time
(to Alfred) ere the father entered the room.

"What's the trouble now?" began the man, as he gazed inquiringly at the
boy.

"Who is this man Palmer whom you are so greatly taken up with?" inquired
Alfred.

"Why, what's that to you? He's a friend of mine."

"Has he a show?" was the boy's next query.

"A show? Not a show like you know anything of. He has a painting, a work
of art, that will be exhibited soon."

"Father, you have always berated, abused and condemned shows and show
people. Did this man Palmer borrow money from you?"

The father was confused. He reddened as he stammered: "No--no--not much.
You see he is a poor devil of an artist, he would rather paint than eat;
he has spent years of his life on a painting. He has a fortune almost in
his hands and I loaned him a little money to buy glue and colors to
finish his painting. I tell you, he is a genius; why, the roller the
pictures work on is one of the most ingenious contrivances you ever saw
and it's simple, it can be applied to other uses. No man but a genius
like Palmer would have thought of it."

This and much more information he gave Alfred. By his manner Alfred
could readily see that the parent was greatly interested in Palmer and
his scheme--for Alfred felt such it was.

"Well, then, father, you have changed your mind as to shows?"

"Who said I had? No, I have not changed my mind as to shows! Who told
you I had? But your Uncle Will, who thinks more of you than you think he
does, has persuaded me to give you your own way a little more and if you
want to go with Palmer I will consent to it after I see Palmer and put
you under his charge. He must control you just as I want you controlled.
He is a man who knows how to manage boys; he is a man you can depend
upon and I don't mind you going with him if it can be arranged to suit
me and your mother. I am glad you asked my consent and did not run off,
like you threatened to do with the nigger minstrels." And he emphasized
"nigger minstrels" to strongly convince Alfred of his disgust with that
branch of show business.

The father was so completely wrapped up in Palmer, so totally captivated
by the eloquence of the man that he had altogether mistaken the
questions of the boy.

"Father, has Palmer tried to get nine hundred dollars out of you? Did he
want you to buy a half interest in the show?"

"Well," hesitatingly he answered, "Palmer has got to raise some money
and he asked me to help him out. I haven't said whether I would or not.
If you go with him you could look after money matters for----."

Here Alfred interrupted the parent: "Have you said anything to mother
about this? You know when you went into the patent wash-board concern
with Niblo and grandpap, you never told mother and when you got took in
with Uncle Thomas on the patent shoe blacking, you said you would never
enter into anything outside your business without asking mother's
advice. And now you're dickering with this man Palmer about a show,
something you know nothing about. Now Pap--."

The wash-board and blacking were two of the father's investments that
were losses, so he became very much irritated at mention of them and
checked the son.

"Now you hold on, young man! If you tell your mother anything of this,
you and I will have trouble. You're meddling with matters that don't
concern you. I thought you called me in to ask my permission to go with
Palmer. Now you set yourself up to pry into my business. I'm your
father, I've always taken care of you and I am able to take care of
myself. I don't want a green boy to look after me."

"Well, Pap; I'm not trying to nose into your business. You told Palmer
that I knowed a heap about the show business, and you recommended me
highly as a showman."

The father was sizzling. "Who told you so?"

"Why, Palmer himself. Now, I don't want to brag on myself," continued
Alfred who had gained confidence as the interview progressed, "but I've
seen a great deal of this show business and you've got to know what
you're doing when you get into it. Why, look how many men have lost all
their money." And here Alfred mentioned the names of several men, the
details of whose losses in show schemes he had read in the _New York
Clipper_.

"Why," he continued, in an outburst of confidence, "I"--and he
emphasized the "I"--"I lost money on my last show." He should have
added, "my first and last show." But the boy felt that he had pap going.
"I had to borrow money from Sammy Steele to pay my debts."

The father gasped. "So you've been borrowing money to get into the show
business?"

"No, I had to borrow money to get out of it and that's why I don't want
you to loan Palmer money without you ask mother."

Alfred knew full well that this reference to the mother would bring the
father to terms.

"Now look here, my boy; I warned you once before not to blab my business
to your mother to make trouble in the family--"

"Well, I'm going to tell her," broke in the boy.

"You're going to tell her what?" threateningly asked the father.

"I'm not going to tell her anything about you," replied Alfred somewhat
subdued, "I'm just going to tell her that Palmer is trying to borrow
money from you."

The mother was no different from other women. The father knew full well
that her first remark would be: "So Palmer wants to borrow money! So
that's what brought him here! He is a slick one, you could tell that by
his talk. John, I hope you are not fool enough to loan that man money."
"No, Mary, don't worry yourself, he'll get no money out of me, I could
see through him the first time I met him."

This line of conversation had been heard so often in the family that it
was stereotyped on the memory of all. The father therefore capitulated,
and in a tone intended to pacify the boy he said: "Now there's no use
in stirring up anything over this matter. If you want to go with Palmer
I will gain your mother's consent. I'll tell her you have asked my
permission. I will permit you to remain there as long as you do right.
You know more about this business than I do and I'll leave it all in
your hands and I'll tell Palmer so," the father resignedly concluded.

His father had outgeneraled him; he was not the diplomat he imagined
himself. He was left in deeper doubt than before the interview.

Letters came from Palmer. Alfred knew by the postmark that they were
from him. He was tempted to open them. The father read the letters and
placed them in the desk, never mentioning Palmer's name. This was very
perplexing to Alfred.

It was reported that Palmer's great panorama was coming. It was also
reported that Alfred's Uncle Thomas, the minister, Uncle Ned, Uncle
Will, grandpap, and all of Alfred's relatives who had opposed his show
ambitions previously, sanctioned his going with Professor Palmer's
Panorama.

Uncle Thomas explained that Palmer was a retired minister, that the
surroundings, instead of being degrading, would be uplifting; taking it
all in all, John and Mary had acted wisely in giving their consent to
Alfred's joining Professor Palmer's Panorama of Pilgrim's Progress.

Somehow it got out that Alfred was not anxious to go. Lin, in referring
to the latter phase of the matter, said: "I jes can't understan' hit.
Uncle Thomas ses hit will satusfy Alfurd's ambishun an' possibly settle
his min'. But Alfurd don't seem to want to go. Maybe hit's his muther.
Alfurd is a great muther's boy, ye wouldn't think hit either, he's sech
a tarnel devil ketcher, but he is. I guess he don't like the idee uf
this prayur meetin' show an' the show fellur thet painted hit he jes
disspises. I bet ye a fip ef hit wus a show with hosses an' gals ur
singin' niggurs he'd bust a biler to go. Be durned if he ain't the
queerest cuss I ever seed. Why, it tuk the hull kit uf us tu head him
frum runnin' off with a show a while back. Now, be dog-goned ef ye kin
chase him off with a pack of Bob Playford's houn's."

It was announced by the father that Palmer would be the guest of the
family for a day.

Alfred determined to have a heart-to-heart talk with Palmer, pretend he
was in full accord with his plans, engage to go with the panorama and
thus protect the father in his dealings with the man.

Palmer arrived and with him an open faced, honest appearing Pennsylvania
Dutchman, from Bedford County, whom Palmer introduced as Jake. Jake had
a continuous smile. Sometimes it expanded but never contracted. The
smile was a fixture and it became Jake greatly. He rarely spoke, the
smile sort of atoned for his reticence as it assured those addressing
him that Jake was not deaf, even though dumb.

It was not necessary to question Palmer; he was a willing subject,
volunteering all the testimony necessary to set Alfred's mind at rest.

In answer to the query as to whether father had concluded to take an
interest in the panorama now that he, Alfred, had decided to go with it,
Palmer rolled off his reply so rapidly that Alfred could scarcely follow
his words.

"I hope John will not be angry with me, I offered him first chance and
held off until I almost lost the other fellow. John's all right but he's
too conservative. He's afraid of his wife and he'll never make money as
long as he continues in business in this town. This Dutchman, Jake, had
the money, he is anxious to travel, he has never been outside of Bedford
County. Jake has a team, a fine team. We can't stick anywhere. He'd sell
the team if I said the word. He will haul the whole outfit. I am going
to buy another team and a good one, then I can take my wife and you and
go ahead and have all the arrangements made before Jake arrives with
the panorama. Of course if John talks his wife into it he will want to
come in later. We can easily get rid of Jake, he's a "gilly." This is
the very business for John. He is a painter, he could paint the
panoramas; all he requires is a little experience with water colors.
Why, look at those flags on the old fellow's barn out the pike; no one
but an artist could shade and color like that.[A] Those flags are
painted so naturally they appear to be fluttering in the wind. John and
me could go in together, and paint panoramas of Bull Run and other
battles and sell them or send out a half a dozen. This war will make the
panorama business good. Your daddy is good on flags and eagles and sich;
that's where I am weak. We could make all kinds of money."

The exhibitions would be confined to churches and educational
institutions; therefore, it was most fortunate for Alfred that he should
be privileged to become attached to an exhibition that possessed the
elevating and refining influences of the great moral entertainment of
Professor Palmer.

The father, instead of requesting the minister to ask the blessing, as
was his custom, nodded to Palmer. All bowed their heads as Palmer, in a
loud voice, called down a blessing upon the food, the father, the
mother, and the boy about to go out into the world to seek his fortune;
he also prayed for Lin. He called down a blessing upon the panorama and
that it might attract thousands that the great moral lesson it was
designed to teach might be carried to the furthermost corners of the
earth.

Alfred could not resist the impulse to raise his eyes. The very beard on
Palmer's chin was quivering with the fervor of his beseechings. All were
bowed in respectful reverence except Jake--he was gazing nowhere, the
smile a little more expansive.

After the men had retired from the dining room, Lin, the mother and
Alfred remained seated. Lin turned a cup in the tea-grounds. She read
that Alfred would wander a long way off and "maybe kum back with a great
bag of gold, at eny rate, he wus carryin' a heavy load."

Finally Lin, turning to the mother, inquired: "What did ye think uf the
blessin'?"

"It was very fervent," absently answered the mother.

Lin sniffed. "Well, I'd swore afore a volcany uf fire thet I smelled
licker on both uf 'em."

The mother communicated Lin's suspicions to the father. He admitted that
Jake might be addicted to liquor. Palmer, as an artist, used a great
deal of alcohol to dissolve the shellac used for sizing the canvas
preparatory to painting and the fumes of alcohol would pervade a man's
clothing a long time after being subjected to its permeating influences.

Lin, with a twinkle in her eye, declared in a loud whisper as the father
left the room: "Well, durned ef I wus him ef I wouldn't change my
clothes afore I asked a blessin' agin."

The mother was very much worried. She communicated her fears to Uncle
Thomas and Aunt Sarah. Uncle William, the county judge, was called into
conference. He advised that since Alfred seemed inclined to a roving
life it would be better for him to be connected with a religious show
than with a worldly one for he would be free from the vicious
surroundings of a circus or minstrel show, and suggested that a binding
contract be made with Palmer.

Grandfather secured a copy of the contract under which his brother, the
judge, had been apprenticed, and had a copy made to fit Alfred's
engagement to Palmer.

The following is an exact copy of the indenture which bound Uncle
William to learn the trade of a blacksmith. It is now on record in the
county courthouse at Uniontown, Pennsylvania:

THIS INDENTURE WITNESSETH: That William Hatfield, of the
Township of Union, in the County of Fayette, State of
Pennsylvania, hath put himself by the approbation of his
guardian, John Withrow, and by these presents doth voluntarily
put himself an apprentice to George Wintermute, of the township
of Redstone, county and state aforesaid, blacksmith, to learn
his art, trade or mystery he now occupieth or followeth, and
after the manner of an apprentice to serve from the day of the
date hereof, for and during the full end and term of five years,
next ensuing, during all of which time he, the said apprentice,
his said master shall faithfully serve, his secrets keep, his
lawful commands everywhere gladly obey; he shall do no damage to
his said master, nor suffer it to be done without giving notice
to his said master; he shall not waste his master's goods, nor
lend them unlawfully to others; he shall not absent himself day
or night from his master's service without his leave; he shall
not commit any unlawful deed whereby his said master shall
sustain damage, nor contract matrimony within the said term; he
shall not buy nor sell nor make any contract whatsoever, whereby
his master receive damage, but in all things behave himself as a
faithful apprentice ought to do during said term. And the said
George Wintermute shall use the utmost of his endeavors to
teach, or cause to be taught and instructed, the said apprentice
the trade or mystery he now occupieth or followeth, and procure
and provide for him, the said apprentice, sufficient meat,
drink, common wearing apparel, washing, lodging, fitting for an
apprentice during the said term; and further he, the said
master, doth agree to give unto the said apprentice, ten months'
schooling within the said term, and also the master doth agree
to give unto the said apprentice two weeks in harvest in each
and every year that he, the said apprentice, shall stay with his
said master; also the said George Wintermute, doth agree to give
unto the said apprentice one good freedom suit of clothes. And
for the true performance of all and every the said covenants and
agreements, either of the said parties binds themselves to each
other by these presents.

In witness whereof, they have interchangably put their hands and
seals, the first day of April, one thousand, eight hundred and
sixteen.

GEORGE WINTERMUTE, (Seal)
WILLIAM HATFIELD, (Seal)
JOHN WITHROW, (Seal)

Witness present:
BENJAMIN ROBERTS.


FAYETTE COUNTY, SS.:

May the 29th, one thousand eight hundred and sixteen, before me
the subscriber, one of the justices of the peace, in and for the
said county, came the parties to the within indenture and
severally acknowledged it as their act and deed. Given under my
hand and seal the day and year above mentioned.

BENJAMIN ROBERTS, (Seal)

A copy of the paper binding Alfred to George Washington Palmer is on
record in the county courthouse at Leesburg, Loudoun County, Virginia.
Grandfather argued that if his brother, the judge, could accumulate
farms and town property and raise himself to the dignity of a judge,
Alfred certainly should do equally as well.

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