The Tale Told by A Negro Youth


The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

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(Short Story by M. Menonimus)

The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

During my tour to Philadelphia, my guide cum driver was a Negro youth. He was about twenty-five and he seemed to be an intelligent, smart and neat boy. He wore ash-colored long pants and a sky-blue shirt. My patron, the Youth Literary Club, Philadelphia had sent two youths to show me the important places around the city. With me, there were other three young members of the club. I had then nothing to be astonished at because seeing the rich, mansion-like high buildings, flowery parks, and spacious neat roads, I got lost in the state of trauma. They showed me the man-made wonders of the city and one of the three youths were explaining the history and significance of some spots and monuments to me. But I was more interested to enjoy the uncorrupted natural scenery outside the city and I remained silent enjoying what they showed me. At about two p.m. I was taken to the hotel called ‘Hotel Mornika’ to take our dinner. It was a grand hotel with many storeys. I was provided with a heavy dinner with many items. While taking our food I asked the guides, “Would you not tell me about this grand hotel?” One of the three youths said to me, “We know that it is one of the prestigious hotels in the city and the owner of the hotel is a millionaire. Except this, we know nothing about it.”

The Negro youth, who was silent till then, opened his mouth and said, “I can tell the history of this spot and about the grandfather of the hotel owner.”

I, being curious, asked him to tell. Then he, placing his elbow on the table, looked at me and began to tell:

I have heard from my father that about one hundred and fifty years ago Philadelphia was only a little town and this region of Philadelphia was about four kilometres away from the main town. This region was then called Black Area. It was then almost wild with no habitation. During the last five decades of the nineteenth century, some emancipated Negro families made a Negro village here. They were very poor and took to farming as a means of their livelihood. They grew barley and wheat as their principal crops. The region was a fertile one and by means of farming, the families were getting rise year by year. Then one day some white men came to the place and ordered the Negro heads to quit the place.

I have heard my father say that my grandfather was the head of the village. He was an audacious one and replied authoritatively, “It is our land. We have made this region cultivable with our sweat. We never quit the land.”

After some days, some white people with police cortege came to the place and threatened that they must quit the place the villagers to leave to place. Then the entire villagers came out and a quarrel followed. There were only eleven families. They filed a suit in the law court against the demands of the whites but the court remained silent on this matter.

On the third time, some people with armed police came to the region and began to raid the village. The Negro girls became the victim of their brutish desire. The police began firing. Ten were shot dead among whom there was my grandfather, Mr. Patric. Then my father was about twelve years old. Along with the survivors, my grandmother, with her only child left the place for the northern frontiers. The white people took hold of the entire region. The piece of land on which the hotel is constructed belonged to my grandfather. It was taken seized by a police officer called Mr Neil. He was popularly known by the term ‘Lion Police’ as he was as fierce as a lion. Later on, about fifty years ago, his son Mr Allen constructed this gorgeous building here.

Saying so, he stopped there. Our meal was already over. After paying our bill we came out of the hotel. It was three p. m. The sun was shining brightly. The sky was spotless, not a speck of cloud was to be found floating therein. But I felt vomiting. The guide asked me, “Sir, would you like to see the skyscraper being constructed recently?”

I replied, “No. Let me visit the huts if there is any.”

The guide said, “No. you will find not a single hut (a house made of bamboo, straw, mud etc.) in the entire Philadelphia.”

I said, “Then let me return to my homeland, India.” 0 0 0

The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

N.B.  The short story ‘The Tale Told by A Negro Youth’ originally belongs to the book ‘The Prostitute and Other Stories‘ by Menonim Menonimus. The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

The Tale Told by A Negro Youth

Books of Composition by M. Menonimus:

  1. Advertisement Writing
  2. Amplification Writing
  3. Note Making
  4. Paragraph Writing
  5. Notice Writing
  6. Passage Comprehension
  7. The Art of Poster Writing
  8. The Art of Letter Writing
  9. Report Writing
  10. Story Writing
  11. Substance Writing
  12. School Essays Part-I
  13. School Essays Part-II
  14. School English Grammar Part-I
  15. School English Grammar Part-II..

Books of S. Story by M. Menonimus:

  1. The Fugitive Father and Other Stories
  2. The Prostitute and Other Stories
  3. Neha’s Confession

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I am Menonim Menonimus, a Philosopher & Writer.


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