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Nothing was said to Cheditafa of the intended ceremony. After what had happened, they all felt that it would be right to respect the old negro's feelings and sensibilities. Mrs.
Robert Purvis, one of the most elegant and scholarly colored men our country has known, whose father was a Scotchman and mother a West Indian with no slave blood, sent this noble response: "....I can not agree that this or any hour is 'especially the negro's. I am an anti-slavery man because I hate tyranny and in my nature revolt against oppression, whatever its form or character.
As he passed out, a remark was made by one of three young men about his eating his candy. The rest of the story is obvious. As horrible as these burnings were, it is certain that they did not grind the iron into the Negro's soul any more surely than the three stories that follow. Hampton Smith was known as one of the harshest employers of Negro labor in Brooks County, Ga.
Slowly the young man wended his way to the mansion; but remembering the negro's request, he shot several squirrels, and gave them as requested. "Then you have been to see Uncle Toney. Did he give you any of his stories? Like all old persons, he loves to talk about his younger days."
"No-o." Old Man Curry dropped his hand on the negro's shoulder. "No. Mose has been ridin' for me quite some time now. He suits me first rate." "You're the doctor," grinned Johnson. "Do as you think best, of course. I'm only telling you how it is." "Thankee. I reckon I'll play the string out the way I started. Luck might change."
Our education should be of a threefold nature, viz.: Literary, Industrial and Religious. No limit should be placed upon the Negro's literary qualification. A race so largely segregated as ours, needs its own teachers, preachers, lawyers, doctors, pharmacists, and other professional and business men, and therefore they should be given the highest and best education that is obtainable.
The ice where Wash had stood, and where the steel peg had been driven in, was crushed to fragments as the huge head and shoulders of the wounded walrus came up from the depths. The creature had marked the negro's position exactly, and had burst through the ice at the right spot. The wonderful lightness of all matter on this torn-away world, however, saved the darkey's life.
While upon the subject of ears, I may observe that a distinguished abolitionist in New York once received a negro's ear, which had been cut off close to the head, in a general post letter. It was forwarded by the free and independent gentleman who had caused it to be amputated, with a polite request that he would place the specimen in his 'collection.
"He's a runaway, Mocket says, but I'll cure him of that! He's strong as an ox and as limber as a snake." Taking the negro's hand in his, he bent the fingers back. "Look at that! easy as a willow! He'll strip tobacco! His name is Joab." The namesake of a prince in Israel looked blithely upon his new family. "Yaas, marster," he said, with candour. "Dat is my name dat sho' is! Jes' Joab.
"D'you think our old harbour will be available, Moses?" asked Van der Kemp as they came close to the first headland. "Pr'aps. Bes' go an' see," was the negro's practical reply. "Evidently Rakata is not yet active," said Nigel, looking up at the grey dust-covered crags as the canoe glided swiftly through the dark water. "That is more than can be said for the other craters," returned the hermit.
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