Forty Acres and Maybe a Mule
4/5
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About this ebook
A CBC Notable Children’s Book in the Field of Social Studies
Two recently freed, formerly enslaved brothers work to protect the new life they’ve built during the Reconstruction after the Civil War in this vibrant, illustrated middle grade novel.
Maybe nobody gave freedom, and nobody could take it away like they could take away a family farm. Maybe freedom was something you claimed for yourself.
Like other ex-slaves, Pascal and his older brother Gideon have been promised forty acres and maybe a mule. With the found family they have built along the way, they claim a place of their own.
Green Gloryland is the most wonderful place on earth, their own farm with a healthy cotton crop and plenty to eat. But the notorious night riders have plans to take it away, threatening to tear the beautiful freedom that the two boys are enjoying for the first time in their young lives.
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Reviews for Forty Acres and Maybe a Mule
7 ratings5 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A fantastic book, funny, poignant, and even if over 50 years old, of high relevance. It describes the life on a small Kentucky foothills farm for a year, and addresses issues of social justice, religion, work ethic, and humor and history. A great read, and I think a lot of people ought to read this book, especially if you are not from this area.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5From Amazon: In the late 1940s, Janice and Henry Giles moved from Louisville, Kentucky, back to the Appalachian hill country where Henry had grown up and where his family had lived since the time of the Revolution. With their savings, the couple bought a ramshackle house and forty acres of land on a ridge top and set out to be farmers like Henry's forebears.
To this personal account of the trials of a city woman trying to learn the ways of the country and of her neighbors, Janice Holt Giles brings the same warmth, humor, and powers of observation that characterize her novels. Enlightening and evocative, personal and universally pertinent, this description of a year of "backaches, fun, low ebbs, and high tides, and above all a year of eminent satisfaction" will be welcomed by Janice Holt Giles's many readers, old and new.
My thoughts: This is my new favorite book!! I love her description of the area, the people, how they lived, and her love and respect for the people of the area. I highly recommend this book to everyone!! - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Very good children's book for American History expansion of understanding.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Good book, really opens up what it must have been at that time.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5"40 Acres and No Mule" is the non-fiction complement to Giles' novel "The Enduring Hills." It is the true story of Janice Holt Giles' move from the big city -- Louisville -- to live with her husband and his family in rural Appalachia.Her account of their life on a hard-scrabble, but ultimately successful, farm is evocative and highly entertaining. The descriptions of how to cut tobacco, strip and grade the leaves, and hang them to dry makes your back and hands ache -- and your heart sing with as much satisfaction as if you'd done the work yourself.Highly recommended for everyone who would like a break from urban life, without actually having to give up the comforts and convenience we take for granted.
Book preview
Forty Acres and Maybe a Mule - Harriette Gillem Robinet
Forty Acres and
Maybe a Mule
Books by Harriette Gillem Robinet
Ride the Red Cycle
Children of the Fire
Mississippi Chariot
If You Please, President Lincoln
Washington City Is Burning
The Twins, the Pirates, and the Battle of New Orleans
Forty Acres and Maybe a Mule
Atheneum Books for Young Readers
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
Copyright © 1998 by Harriette Gillem Robinet
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction
in whole or in part in any form.
Book design by Angela Carlino
The text of this book is set in Bembo Semibold.
Printed in the United States of America
1098
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Robinet, Harriette.
Forty acres and maybe a mule / Harriette Gillem Robinet.—1st ed.
p. cm. A Jean Karl book
Includes bibliographical references (p.132)
Summary: Born with a withered leg and hand, Pascal, who is
about twelve years old, joins other former slaves in a search
for a farm and the freedom that it promises.
ISBN 0-689-82078-X
ISBN-13: 978-0-6898-2078-6
eISBN-13: 978-1-43913-6232-1.
Afro-Americans—Juvenile fiction. 2. Reconstruction—
Juvenile fiction. 3. United States—History—1865-1898—
Juvenile fiction. [1. Afro-Americans—Fiction.
2. Reconstruction—Fiction. 3. United States—History—
1865-1898—Fiction. 4. Slaves—Fiction.
5. Physically handicapped—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7. R553FO 1998 [Fic]—dc21 97-39169
This book is dedicated to our grandchildren, present and future. We love you: Alison Nicole Hall, Michael Steven Hall, Conrad David Schillinger-Robinet, and Kaitlin Christine Hall.
Forty Acres and
Maybe a Mule
Chapter One
Pascal hadn’t been able to fall asleep that night. Around the plantation the air seemed full of whispered secrets. As he lay in the cabin doorway, he worried about how people treated him now that Mama was dead.
After work that afternoon he had walked past some men and said, How y’all doing?
They had stopped talking. Didn’t they know that, even though he worked in the Big House, he wouldn’t tell the master?
In fact, he had secretly saved one of those men from a beating one day. Master had seen the slave with apples he had picked to feed his children. As soon as Master had run after the man, Pascal had used his big walking stick to break a window. When Master turned back to run to his Big House, the other slave and Pascal had both escaped.
That had been last fall. It was now spring, and Pascal wanted to know the secrets folks were buzzing about. He bet the news had something to do with the War Between the States.
The night air by his slave cabin door was spring-blossom sweet, but that April of 1865 it seemed full of mystery besides. He listened to the breathing of six other slaves who lay with him on the crowded cabin’s dirt floor. From his pad, he glanced out the open doorway.
In the black South Carolina sky a half-moon mothered a million dancing stars. The night sky comforted Pascal’s hurt feelings. Soon he felt some of the peace and joy that Mama always had talked about.
When a shadow hesitated by his doorway, Pascal sat up. Who’s that?
he asked in a whisper.
Pascal? It’s me, Gideon.
Gideon? You be back? Be that really you, Gideon?
Pascal could hardly believe it. His heart seemed squeezed-to-bursting with happiness. As he stood to hug his tall brother, tears flowed from his eyes. How wonderful to have his brother back! Gideon had run away from the plantation two years ago. And he hadn’t gotten caught or killed in the war, as everyone had thought.
Yes, it be me all right. I came back for you and Mama.
Gideon
—Pascal trembled—Mama ain’t here.
Tall, wiry Gideon glanced down the row of two dozen slave cabins. Where’s Jerusalem City? Where she be? I be leaving tonight. Don’t want no trouble with Master.
Mama’s dead, Gideon. She kept asking for more food for the slaves. Folks saw the overseer shoot her down by the creek.
Every time he thought about Mama getting shot, Pascal felt a fist ball up in his stomach. That white man just murdered his mama. How Pascal missed her; since then he had felt lost. Seemed like Mama just up and left him to the mercy of the world.
Since her death, he hadn’t had any family left among the slaves. With Mama and Papa dead, and with Gideon gone and four other brothers sold years ago, Pascal had been alone. Before she died, Mama had told him news; and she had given him something to look forward to, even if it was just a buttered biscuit left on the master’s plate. Afterward, there was no one to care.
But now Gideon was back.
Gideon pulled Pascal to his side, hugged him, and rested his chin on his little brother’s head. Pascal felt warm, close to his brother. No one had hugged him since Mama died.
Gideon heaved a sigh and said, All this time I wanted to tell Mama. I wanted to tell her so bad. You know we be free now?
Free?
Pascal held his breath and wiped his eyes. Was this the news the other slaves were whispering about? Walls of Jericho! You sure now, Gideon?
Sure we free,
said a voice from Pascal’s cabin. But Master ain’t letting none of us go, nor paying us to work, neither.
Another voice said, And them that go just walk a little ways down the lane and come back. Some proud darkies keep walking and starve. I don’t wanna starve.
Freedom?
asked another voice. There ain’t no white folks what gonna let us live free! What’s freedom mean for colored folks in South Carolina?
Gideon shouted, Freedom means everything!
Pascal’s heart began to pound faster. Freedom did mean everything.
Hush you now,
said a woman. Don’t be getting us in trouble, Gideon. Master angry about this freedom talk and he might come walking down this way tonight.
But it ain’t just talk,
said Gideon. President Lincoln freed us slaves two years ago. And better still, now we gonna have our own land.
Land?
Men from other cabins scrambled to crowd around Gideon. They called, Hey, y’all, Gideon’s back and he say we can own land.
Pascal nodded. With land they really could be free!
Dressing quickly, he stuffed all he owned—shirt, tin cup, hairbrush, and three marbles—into a potato sack. He tied the sack on his walking stick and limped to the door. They could own land to farm? Now there was something to look forward to!
Pascal was so excited he almost tripped over his lame foot. Where had Gideon been all this time? How far had he traveled? Questions exploded in his mind, but he would wait to ask them. People were whispering and chuckling in a circle around Gideon.
Already happening,
Gideon said.
As Pascal walked away, he heard, General Sherman already gave land to some of us who done followed him through the South. Forty acres and maybe a mule’s just for the asking for colored people, like homesteading been for white people.
Pascal heard slaves stirring and talking in the cabins he passed. Who’s that down the row?
a woman asked.
Gideon’s back,
a man told her. Say they giving out forty acres and maybe a mule to slaves.
The woman snorted. Gideon always been a sound-off. Worried Jerusalem City ’cause he never took kindly to slavery. It be a wonder he’s alive.
That woman be a sound-off herself,
another woman said, sassing the overseer. She got herself shot dead.
Yeah, but Missus gave us more food, didn’t she?
Heart drumming, Pascal ran stumbling along the path. From birth his weak right leg was bent inward at the knee, and that leg was shorter. His right hand was weak, too. He reached the cabin he wanted at last. Nelly,
he whispered through the doorway.
That you, Pascal? What be going on?
She stepped out.
My brother Gideon’s here. Say we free and can own land now. I be going with him, my own brother. You wanna come?
He took a deep breath. Come on, Nelly.
Pascal had protected Nelly ever since the master had bought her a year ago. Nelly had biscuit-tan skin color and full moon eyes of honey brown.
For two years they had been free, but the masters were still selling and buying slaves. Pascal wondered at that.
Twisting a braid, Nelly said, You be like my brother.
Pascal squeezed her hand. You’re right. We be family. So, come on, Nelly. It’s true. Gideon say we been free for two years. Free!
She said, Master won’t let none of us go.
Gideon’s here. We be running away with him.
Nelly twisted another one of her braids.
Your mama be dead,
he said. What’s to keep you? You got no family here. Besides, if you stay after I run away, Master gonna treat you something awful at the Big House.
Once, a hidden Pascal had used his stick and tripped Master when he was drunk, to keep him from kicking Nelly. Nelly had run, and Master never found out why he fell and got that cut lip.
At first Nelly stared at Pascal. Then in seconds she dressed, tied clothes in a shawl, and followed him.
When Pascal returned, Gideon asked, You ready?
Then he noticed Nelly. Pascal was about twelve, but Nelly was only about eight years old. Like Pascal, she was thin. She wore her hair in six long braids. Twisting one of them, she stared at Gideon. Since she was new at the plantation, she had never seen him before.
Who she be?
asked Gideon as he looked