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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.

The Kentucky Ranger

E >> Edward T. Curnick >> The Kentucky Ranger

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Damon Craig instantly obeyed, and with one attempt the rope was thrown
over and both ends were near the ground. It was the work of only a
minute or two to bring the miserable prisoner under the limb and to
adjust the rope in the form of a hangman's knot around his neck.

When this was done Sanders said: "Wiles, we don't want to send you out
of this world without giving you a chance for preparation; so if you
want to pray or to send any message to your dad or mam, we'll wait for
you."

Wiles was a man not without physical courage, and in this trying hour
his grit did not fail him. He cast one hurried glance around, as though
looking for some allies to aid him, but none were in sight. He gazed
into the faces of those standing near him to see if there were any
relenting; but the stern and determined looks of most of these men
showed him it was useless to expect mercy from them. All hope seemed
gone. Wiles, apparently wishing more to show a brave front to man than
a humble and contrite spirit to God, simply said: "I've nuthin' to say
to de likes uv you'uns; only I defy ye to do yer wu'st."

"Haul away!" cried Sanders, and a dozen men seizing the rope, began
pulling it, tightening the noose around Wiles' neck; but before they
had lifted the body free from the ground a loud beating of horses'
hoofs was heard in the direction of Bridgewater. Instinctively the men
ceased from their work to look down the road. Perhaps there was a
tremor of fear and condemnation in their hearts. We believe that every
man who purposes in his heart to help lynch one of his fellow men, if
he allows reason and conscience half a chance to be heard, will not
engage in the attempt.

Presently two men came in sight, riding as though their lives depended
upon their haste. They were Jasper Very and John Larkin, who had heard
of the proposed lynching. The riders spurred their horses across the
bridge and flung themselves from their saddles, but not before Jasper
Very had shouted in his loudest voice: "Men, I call upon you in the
name of God to stop this wicked act." Then, rushing up to the condemned
man, who was already gasping for breath, he pulled the rope from over
the limb sufficiently to loosen the knot around Wiles' neck. The
lynchers were too much surprised to resist.

While John Larkin held the weakened prisoner Jasper Very removed the
rope from his neck, and the two preachers helped Wiles to a seat on the
bridge. Here Very stood over him as though he were his guardian angel.
His eyes blazed with a fire never seen in them before. His gigantic
form seemed to swell to larger proportions. He looked the incarnation
of power tempered with pity. Very spoke with his heart hot within him:
"Men of Kentucky, I am ashamed of your actions this day. What you
purpose doing is a stain upon our State. It is a crime the memory of
which, if committed, you will not be able to hide from your minds till
life's last hour. Do you not know that two sins can never make an act
right? How do you dare to hurry this man into the presence of his Maker
unprepared? How can you meet such a sin at the judgment day? There are
the courts. Let Sam Wiles be tried in them. You are well aware that our
laws are very severe against horse-stealing, and when brought to the
bar of justice the prisoner will suffer the full penalty of his deeds.
But there is a higher law than those in our criminal courts. It is
God's law, given to the children of men amid the thunders of Mount
Sinai when the whole mountain was black with a thick cloud of smoke,
which rolled away as from a great furnace into the sky. God descended
in fire upon the mount. Thunders roared, lightnings flashed, and the
peaks trembled to their foundations. The trumpets sounded louder and
louder and the awful voice of almighty God 'shook the earth.' What were
the commandments there given? One of them was: 'Thou shalt not kill.'
Do not think that lynch law is not murder. It is murder of a very
deplorable kind; for the perpetrators of the deed are not one but many,
so that many are guilty of shedding their brother's blood. In the name
of Him whose I am and whom I serve as a humble ambassador, I call upon
you to desist from this proposed crime, conceived in passion and
carried forward under great excitement. Listen to the voice of reason,
and your consciences will approve your course."

What the majesty of the law could not do under the words of the honored
Judge, the power of the gospel accomplished through the agency of the
backwoods preacher.

Hiram Sanders was the first to yield. "Neighbors," he said, "what the
preacher spoke is true. I think we will sleep sounder tonight if we
spare the prisoner, though he is a sneaking, onery critter. But let the
law take its course. We must see that he is securely guarded and lodged
in jail without a mishap."

Under a strong guard Wiles was taken up the river road to be placed in
the county jail. The planters and others returned to their usual work,
while Judge LeMonde and his company rode home at their leisure.




CHAPTER XVIII.

Apple Blossoms.


May Day had come in Kentucky, and all the air was sweet with the odor
of blossoms. Jasper Very had made an afternoon call at Judge LeMonde's
mansion; and the day being so charming he had invited Miss Viola to
walk with him to the apple orchard which was in full bloom. The two
walked down the gentle hill on which the house was built and proceeded
along a private road leading north toward the knob. They passed by
tilled fields in which green things were peeping through the soil. They
skirted a pasture where horses and cows were grazing in perfect
content. Then they went through a wide gateway and at once came into
the apple orchard.

The apple blossom was Jasper's favorite flower. He thought an apple
tree in bloom was the nearest approach to Eden's tree of life of any
sight on earth. And to behold scores of these trees filled him with
such strange, happy feelings that it was difficult for him to control
his emotions.

As they walked up the gradual slope which was the beginning of the
swell of the knob they gazed upon many trees so thick with blossoms
that they looked like gigantic bouquets. Under one of these trees they
sat down upon a rustic seat and looked upon the myriads of blossoms
above and around them. The mystic scene--radiant sunshine, smiling
landscape, balmy, odorous air, humming of bees, and pyramids of apple
blossoms--increased the preacher's rapturous love of nature, God's
revelation of his glory, and by a reasonable transition his heart beat
with a warm, tender, and holy affection for the beautiful girl at his
side. Her mind also was open to the beauties of the scene, and a
thousand voices were calling her to sip the magic waters of love. She
removed her broad hat and, letting it fall by her side, held it there
with careless grace by one of its strings. Her golden hair added an
exquisite touch to the picture.

Jasper was the first to speak: "Miss Viola, what is so beautiful as an
apple tree in bloom? Our heavenly Father seems to have mixed the
elements of nature to make this blossom with a skill not seen
elsewhere. It combines the pure whiteness of the plum or cherry with
the delicate color of the pink or rose. How beautiful is the shading!
How the pink tint improves the white and the white the pink! Every
separate blossom is fit to adorn the head of a fairy; and when you look
upon this wilderness of bloom, you feel that the floral world can go no
farther with its gift of beauty. As I sit under this bower of
loveliness I am inclined to adapt the poet's words:

'My willing soul would stay
In such a place as this,
And sit and sing herself away
To everlasting bliss.'"

"I am not surprised," said Viola, "that you are enraptured with this
scene. To my mind the perfection of out-of-doors life is to be among
the apple blossoms, to feast one's eyes upon their delicate colors, and
to inhale their sweet odor. The Hesperides of the ancients must have
had a pleasant task in guarding the golden apples which Terra gave to
Juno as a wedding gift."

"Yes," remarked Jasper; "and not only has mythology used this fruit to
embellish the joy and sacredness of the marriage rite, but the Holy
Bible makes the apple tree a type of the lover and of love; for we
read: 'As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved
among the sons.' And, 'Comfort me with apples.' Such pictures as these
suggest the purest affection. May I not say they promote love?"

Viola was not willing to give a direct answer to his question, so she
artfully changed the subject, saying: "The sun will soon descend behind
the forest trees, and we must leave the apple blossoms and their
lessons and betake ourselves to the house."

She placed her hat upon her head and arose to go. The preacher also
arose, thinking to himself: "I wish I could change the apple blossoms
into orange blossoms and see them crowning her golden hair."

They had walked along the farm road, and had nearly reached the garden
gate when they saw the slave Mose running rapidly toward the house.
They were just ascending the hill when the black man, getting within
speaking distance, cried out: "Miss Vi'la, Ah jist cum frum town, an'
what do yo' 'spose? Sam Wiles hab' 'scaped frum jail. He got out las'
night. Sumhow he got a file an' cut two ba's out'n his cell winder an'
crep' through. In sum way he clim' ober de yawd fence an' got cl'ar
'way. De she'ff an' constables is now chasin' 'im an' callin' on all
who can to help run 'im down. Ah's gwine to hurry to de house to tell
Mas'r LeMonde uv de 'scape."

With this remark Mose ran on, his white eyeballs rolling in his
excitement and his head bobbing from one side to the other.

In a few minutes Viola and Jasper were with Judge LeMonde and the rest
of the house. The Judge was questioning his faithful servant: "Did the
officers think he had any help in escaping?"

"Yessar, sum one mus' 'a' sperited dat file inter de jail, an' ob
cou'se no ossifer would 'a dun it."

"Who do they think was his helper?"

"Zibe Turner. Two er free in de town see 'im sneakin' roun', but befo'
dey could grab 'im he war gone. He seems to be in league wif de debil,
an' can become inwisible when he wants ter."

"But how could the monster dwarf get the file to him?"

"It am 'sposed he had a secret talk wif de colored cook, Dinah, an' sum
way cum it ober her--bewitched her mor'n likely ur gib 'er a big lot ob
money--an' she passed de file in sum ob Wiles' food, an' he cut his way
out."

"But his cell was in the second story, and how did he reach the
ground?"

"He made a rope ob de bedclothes an' clum down dem. Dey thinks he frew
de same rope ober de wall, an' Turner held de outer end while Wiles
clum to de top; den he could easy drap to de bottom. Ah 'spects dey bof
cl'ar out togedder, an' by dis time air way back on de knobs safe an'
sound."

Judge LeMonde said: "We must do all we can to recapture Wiles and
arrest Turner, for they are desperate men, and will stop at nothing to
secure their own ends. However, I am afraid it will be almost
impossible to take them if they have reached the fastnesses of the
hills. They can hide in caves, ravines, and forests, and, being so well
acquainted with the region, they can well-nigh defy pursuit."

The Judge's opinion was sound; for after the officers and citizens had
hunted them for days with the aid of bloodhounds, and found them not,
the effort was abandoned.




CHAPTER XIX.

A Proposal Without Words.


It was on a Tuesday afternoon in the latter part of June when a note
was presented to Jasper Very by a farmer living near his boarding place
who had been quite a distance up river.

The note read as follows:

Silver Springs Camp Ground, June 23, 18--.

The Rev. Jasper Very,

Dear Mr. Very:--The Silver Springs Camp Meeting which began a few
days ago is having fine success. It is well attended and many are
beginning the Christian life.

I had planned to make Thursday the great day of the feast; but Rev.
Enoch Foy, who was to preach that evening, is sick and sends word
he cannot come. In my extremity I turn to you and ask you to fill
the gap without fail.

Knowing how willing you always are to help a brother minister in
need, I shall look for you without expecting a reply to this note.
Please do not disappoint us. I send this message by Mr. John Boley,
who returns to your neighborhood today.

Sincerely yours in the Master's work,

Ezra Thompson.

Jasper Very prayerfully considered the invitation and, as his
engagements permitted him to accommodate his good friend Thompson, he
decided to preach at the camp meeting. He little dreamed that all his
future life was to be colored by that simple note. So often men's
destinies turn upon apparently trivial events.

As the journey was long Jasper decided it would be pleasant to have a
few of his friends accompany him. So he betook himself to Judge
LeMonde's house and asked the Judge and his wife to make two of the
party, but they had matters which forbade their going. He then spoke to
Viola and George and requested them to go.

Early Thursday morning Jasper Very rang the doorbell at "Mount Pisgah."
Miss Viola herself answered the bell and led the preacher into the
drawing-room. She gave him this information: "George is to drive six of
us to the camp meeting in our three-seated carriage. Miss Stella
Nebeker will sit with George; on the middle seat my cousin, Miss Alice
LeMonde, and Miss Bertha Nebeker, Stella's sister; and they have
appointed you and me to occupy the third seat. The carriage will be
driven up presently and we have a surprise for you; but do not get too
excited."

The preacher could not imagine what the surprise was, but he had to
possess his soul in patience. He had not to wait long for he presently
heard the sound of wheels. He and Viola stepped out on the piazza.

What did he see? Reader, can you guess? No. He saw Velox. The noble
horse was on the near side of the carriage and Prince on the off side.

Very cried out: "Of all things, if there isn't Velox! George, you
naughty boy, why didn't you tell me? Where did you find him?"

The preacher ran to the splendid creature, proud, sleek and glossy as
ever, and put his arm over his neck, and stroked and patted his face.
"George you must tell me all about the way you succeeded in getting
your horse back to the plantation."

George said: "Hold your horses, pastor, and when we are speeding in the
carriage I will the tale relate."

The six were soon seated in the vehicle. George spoke to the willing
horses and they were off, through the plantation grounds, along the
county road to the river highway up which they were to travel twenty
miles. It was a charming day in June and the road now was in fine
condition. A gentle shower the night before had laid the dust and
brightened the face of nature. The leaves on the stately forest trees
were full grown and in perfection. The river to their right sparkled in
the bright sunlight.

Presently George began his tale for the special benefit of the
preacher, the rest having heard it in more or less detail:

"A few days ago I went down to Paducah to sell a large part of our
abundant hay crop. I went to the big warehouse of Youtsey and Fry on
one of the principal streets and was talking to Mr. Sydney Youtsey on
the sidewalk, when I saw a splendid carriage drawn by two fine bay
horses coming along the street. A Sambo, black as the ace of spades,
was driving with a high sense of his importance; and in fact he handled
the reins and whip like a professional. In the back seat reclined a
portly gentleman, dressed in faultless style, and by his side his wife
of ample proportions, also garbed in the height of fashion.

"While the turnout was some distance away I was sure that the near
horse was Velox. As luck would have it the man in the carriage had some
business with Youtsey and Fry and ordered Sambo to drive up to the
curb. Greatly excited I cried out to Sydney Youtsey: 'That bay on the
left is my Velox.' I hastened to the side of the carriage, and, lifting
my hat, said to the man: 'Excuse me, sir, but that horse standing here
next to the sidewalk is my animal, named Velox. He was stolen from my
father's barn up country a few weeks ago by two desperate thieves. My
name is George LeMonde, son of Judge William LeMonde, of 'Mount
Pisgah.''

"The gentleman addressed expressed great surprise at this announcement,
saying:

"'This is a very strange statement. For a long time I wanted a mate for
my bay horse Hamlet and instructed my groom to visit the livery stables
and other places where horses are kept for sale. He tried for weeks to
find a suitable match, but without success. At last, going to one of
the largest and most reputable stables in Paducah, he saw this animal
you claim, and paying a large price for the same, brought him to my
plantation just outside of the city.'

"'Probably,' I said, 'the man who brought Velox to the city gave him
into the hands of a party who may have sold him to an honest and
upright stable keeper from whom you bought the horse.'

"'But how do I know your story is true, that you own this horse?' the
planter asked.

"I told him if his servant would drive the carriage into the warehouse
and unharness the near horse, that I would convince him that he was my
animal.

"The planter consented, and soon Velox was standing before us entirely
free from his harness. I moved away from him about ten feet. Stretching
out my right hand open toward him, I said in a quiet tone of voice:
'Come Velox, come to your master.' Instantly the horse walked up to me
and touched my hand with his lips. I put my soft felt hat on my head,
and spoke to the horse again: 'Come, Velox, and lift my hat off my
head.' He walked up to me the second time and, seizing my hat between
his teeth, gently raised it from my head.

"This not only surprised the planter and the rest, but was satisfactory
proof to him that the bay was my horse.

"Mr. Harcourt, for that was the planter's name, remarked: 'These tricks
seem to demonstrate that what you claim is true, but I paid a fancy
price for this animal, $500, and I do not feel like losing such a sum.'

"'Neither shall you lose it, sir,' said I. 'This very day I will write
you a check for the amount, if you will give my Velox to me.'

"To this Mr. Harcourt agreed. The pair were driven back to his
plantation, and that afternoon Sambo brought him to me. I handed him
the check to give to his master. Going to a store near by I bought a
saddle and bridle and, putting them on Velox, I mounted him and rode
him back to 'Mount Pisgah.' And here he is, sound as ever," and George
snapped the whip over the trotting pair so that they increased their
speed a bit.

The day was bright and balmy, the steeds were willing, and they made
good progress. But the drive was long and it was late dinner time when
they arrived on the camp ground. They were welcomed by Ezra Thompson
and others and, after resting a short time and partaking of a
substantial meal for which their long ride had prepared them, they were
ready for the afternoon services. These were of the old camp meeting
order, and blessed were the results. An earnest preacher handled the
Word of God skillfully, and it became the sword of the Spirit which cut
through skepticism, indifference, and sin, and pierced the consciences
of many. A blessed altar service closed the meeting.

Jasper Very ate only a light supper. Following his usual custom he went
into the woods to pray, to meditate, and to get his sermon into order
for the evening. When he came back those who saw him were struck with
his look. It was something like that of Moses when he came down from
the mount. His face seemed to shine with the light of God. Jasper's
natural mein was bold, commanding, and aggressive, so that some thought
him domineering and severe; but now his manner was full of humility and
peace. He was like a man who had seen a vision of eternal love; his
soul was filled with a deep sympathy for sinful men and a great
yearning to turn them from the error of their ways. Tonight the fighter
was gone, and the pleader took his place.

Before he preached the congregation sang that appealing hymn:

"Show pity, Lord; O Lord, forgive."

Viola LeMonde's confidence as a singer had increased with her recent
attempts, and tonight her sweet, pure soprano voice rose clear and
strong as she sang with the assembled multitude. Jasper Very heard her
voice, and it seemed to him sweeter than the note of an angel, and it
moved him one step higher in his grand preparation to speak his
Master's word. While the eyes of all were fastened upon him he opened
the Bible and read the text: "The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And
let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And
whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."

It is impossible for any report to do justice to that sermon. An
abstract of it has come down to us; but it is little more than a
skeleton, lacking the flesh and blood and abounding life of the
original.

Jasper began by describing the apostle John's imprisonment on the Isle
of Patmos. There he was in the Spirit on the Lord's day when he heard a
voice saying unto him: "Write." John took the flaming pen of
inspiration and wrote those wonderful scenes found in the book of
Revelation. But before writing his final "Amen" he gives one last,
universal, gracious invitation to all men to come to the water of life
and be saved. With marvelous unction and power Jasper spoke of the
invitation coming from God's Spirit and from his Church, the bride, to
all thirsty souls: "Whosoever will, let him take the water of life
freely." At this place the preacher reached the climax of his theme.
With the full power of his noble voice he brushed away all artificial
distinctions among men, crying out that God is no respecter of persons,
but that all men are invited to come to him for salvation. In earnest
tones he besought his hearers to know that they are all included in the
great invitation; the blacks as well as the whites, the poor farmer on
the hills as well as the rich planter in the valley, the outcasts from
society, such as moonshiners, horse thieves and gamblers, equally with
the moral citizen who yet needed a personal deliverance from sin. All
that is required is the will to come.

At last his emotions almost overcame him. Like his Master weeping over
Jerusalem, this strong man wept before the people. Throwing into his
voice much tenderness, sympathy, love, and persuasion, he called upon
them to come forward, kneel in the straw, and seek a merciful Savior's
pardon. His appeal was with many most effective; and when the
congregation arose and started a gospel hymn, scores crowded to the
altar seeking forgiveness and peace.

For an hour Jasper, Viola, and the rest who had come from "Mount
Pisgah" labored with the penitents at the altar. At half past nine
o'clock, long before the service closed, they started for home. They
were all lifted to a high plane of spiritual experience, and for some
time each was busy with his or her own thoughts and few words were
spoken. The moon had risen and was throwing her mild light through the
thick trees as best she could. Gradually George LeMonde and the three
girls got into a more talkative and merry mood. Now and then a happy
laugh floated through the forest, and was heard by the wakeful owl as
he sat perched on some high branch, or with rush of wings flew through
the air seeking his prey. They spoke of the camp meeting and the
commoner events of every day life, occasionally asking the opinion of
Jasper and Viola concerning this or that event or notion. But George on
the front seat was too much occupied with guiding the horses through
the uncertain light and with the chat of the fair girl at his side to
pay much attention to those in the rear seats, and the two girls in the
middle naturally kept their eyes and ears turned forward. This left
Jasper and Viola in a measure to themselves. They spoke occasionally to
each other, but their words were fewer than their thoughts.

Jasper's heart in the meeting had been aflame with love to God and his
fellowman, and what better soil than that can there be for a man's love
for a pure and beautiful woman to spring and grow? All the wealth of
his great nature was even then being given to the woman at his side,
and he felt the hour had come to make that love known. And Viola was
ready to receive it as a most precious gift and in return to offer a
yet richer treasure, a woman's unsullied affection.

In that carriage was about to take place the world's most wondrous
mystery--two lives, which for months had been drawn together more and
more strongly by a power which no man can understand, at last meeting
and blending in a union which God in heaven makes and which eternity
cannot sever.

Jasper did not need words to express his love nor Viola to receive it.
They were more than half way home when Jasper moved his large, honest,
chivalrous right hand over to Viola and took her small, beautiful hand
in his. She did not resist the act, but let her little hand lie in his
broad palm. That was all. Their betrothal was as silent as the meeting
of God and a human soul. Words were not needed. They seemed out of
place. They would have appeared almost a profanation. In fact they
could not then have been spoken. The light carriage robe covered those
two hands, and the laughing girls in the next seat did not suspect that
just behind them an engagement without words was taking place. What
joys, what sorrows, what tragedies and comedies occur so near us that
we can almost touch them with our fingers, and yet we are unconscious
of their existence?

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