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Where should he go if he left this country?" "Go to Africa," replied Bishop Tunster, in his bluff, hearty tones. "I believe that Africa is to be redeemed to civilization, and that the negro is to be gathered into the family of nations and recognized as a man and a brother." "Go to Africa?" repeated Professor Langhorne, of Georgia. "Does the United States own one foot of African soil?

"You go on. I'm coming. Ring for it. Tell Hunter. I'll be with you in two minutes, mother." Mrs. Tunster left her rattle in the nurse's hands. Then, with the two others, departed. Outside the nursery door she said in an American whisper: "Jane isn't quite right yet. Went about a bit too soon. She's headstrong. She always has been. Doesn't do for her to think too much."

"His object is to gather some of the thinkers and leaders of the race to consult on subjects of vital interest to our welfare. He has invited Dr. Latimer, Professor Gradnor, of North Carolina, Mr. Forest, of New York, Hon. Dugdale, Revs. Carmicle, Cantnor, Tunster, Professor Langhorne, of Georgia, and a few ladies, Mrs. Watson, Miss Brown, and others."

Stillman's pleasant, spacious parlors were filled to overflowing with a select company of earnest men and women deeply interested in the welfare of the race. Bishop Tunster had prepared a paper on "Negro Emigration." Dr. Latimer opened the discussion by speaking favorably of some of the salient points, but said: "I do not believe self-exilement is the true remedy for the wrongs of the negro.

This is a Wednesday afternoon, and it is the lady with the black straw hat who is singing. The nursery has white walls it is filled with colour; the fire blazes with a yellow-red gleam that rises and falls across the shining floor. "I brought him a rattle, Jane, dear," said Mrs. Tunster, shaking in the air a thing of coral and silver.

"Surely," said Bishop Tunster, "the negro has a higher mission than that of aimlessly drifting through life and patiently waiting for death." "We may not," answered Rev.

It is true that the solemn, respectable grey house, No. 3, can boast that it is the town residence of His Grace the Duke of Crole and his beautiful young Duchess, née Miss Jane Tunster of New York City, but it is also true that No. is in the possession of Mr. Munty Ross of Potted Shrimp fame, and there are Dr.

"He's got several, of course, but I guess you'll go a long way before you find anything cuter." "It's too pretty," said Lady Emily. "Too lovely," said the Hon. Mrs. Vavasour. The Duchess looked down upon her son. "Isn't he old?" she said. "Thousands of years. You'd think he was laughing at the lot of us." Mrs. Tunster shook her head. "Now don't you go imagining things, Jane, my dear.