LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 SANTA CRUZ 
 
ROBERT LEWIS WARING 
 
AS WE SEE IT 
 
 By 
 
 ROBERT L. WARING 
 
 McQrath Publishing Company 
 
 College Park, Maryland 
 
Reprint McGrath Publishing Company 1969 
 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 77-76122 
 
 Manufactured in the United States of America 
 by Arno Press, Inc., New York 
 
 COPYRIGHT. 1910, BY 
 ROBERT L. WARING 
 
WO 
 
 A. 
 
 TO THOSE NEGRO MEN WHO 
 DARE DEFEND THE WOMAN- 
 HOOD OF THEIR RACE. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
AS WE SEE IT 
 
FORWARD 
 
 T7NASMUCH as the title to this work, "As We See It," 
 may be a little obscure, I offer the following explanation 
 for its adoption: 
 
 Books upon books have been written on the Negro question, 
 but none have told the story as "We" see it. By "We" I 
 mean the educated Negroes, those of cultured families of the 
 third and fourth generations, those Negroes who see things 
 as other men of their mental caliber see them, who feel the 
 sting of race prejudice most keenly, and at whom the 
 damnable laws of the South are aimed. In the books that 
 have been written the "Jim Crow Nigger" is always in 
 evidence and is always a welcome and fit companion for 
 those who father the "Jim Crow Law" industry. 
 
 This work is intended to reveal two sides of Southern life, 
 which are carefully obscured, intentionally avoided or delib- 
 erately misstated my newspaper and magizine writers. 
 
 First, in this story we picture that class of Negroes who 
 are doing something, whose lives, homes and successes are 
 the same as those of other men, and who, starting from 
 nothing, have in fifty years accumulated in the aggregate 
 more than two hundred and fifty million dollars worth of 
 property. These people compose that class of American 
 citizens whom the calamity howlers are careful to keep in the 
 background, and whom the Southern press persist in misrepre- 
 senting even to the point of malicious lying. 
 
 Second, we aim to represent, in their true character, 
 another class, lower, both morally and mentally, than the 
 Negro. These people, the "crackers" of the South, marry in 
 
6 
 
 and out of families closely connected,, first cousin to first 
 cousin, great uncle to niece, step-brother to step-sister, brother 
 to brother's wife, father to step-daughter, adult men to 
 thirteen-year-old girls, etc. These marriages may account 
 for their degeneracy more certainly than the newly discovered 
 hook worm. They can boast, and do boast, of being of the 
 fourth and fifth generation of those who can neither read 
 nor write. They have an utter disregard for the property 
 rights or lives of other men, although this is seldom com- 
 mented upon by writers. This Southern "cracker" is not 
 multiplying as his birth rate would indicate, for his offspring 
 dies in great numbers in early babyhood owing to a lack of 
 intelligent care, and many older children die in large 
 numbers because of the lax enforcement of the child labor 
 laws. These people, the "crackers" of the South, who today 
 hold that section in political thraldom, and whose uplift, 
 through education or the infusion of live blood, is the only 
 possible means left the white people of the South by which 
 they can hope to keep ahead of the progressive Negro, present 
 the true problem of the South. .So long as the discriminatory 
 laws remain in force in the South, just so long will the 
 Negroes, as a whole, continue to outstrip the whites, as a 
 whole. Every intelligent Negro who is doing something, and 
 who reads of what his brothers are doing, knows that he is 
 leaving the Southern white man far behind. The "cracker" 
 knows this also. 
 
 To illustrate: Was there ever a large business of any 
 character, a store, a bank, an insurance company, a school, 
 college, or what not, organized, built up, controlled by a man 
 or woman who sprang from the "cracker" element of this 
 country? Hundreds of such enterprises are owned and con- 
 trolled by Negroes who were slaves. This non-progressive 
 citizen is, however, held up to the world not in his true light, 
 as a worthless trouble seeker, a veritable cancer eating into 
 the vitals of the body politic by his "God-given right" (?) to 
 
vote, but as a poor, struggling white man whose chances for 
 gaining a livelihood are curtailed by the presence of thrifty 
 Negroes who are bent on removing the bar to their manhood, 
 placed there by the State. 
 
 These things, which should be apparent to all persons 
 educated in American schools, and also to those who observe 
 the trend of American ideas, are ever before the educated 
 Negro. But, even with conditions as they now are, and the 
 Negro moving along the lines he is pursuing, the time is not 
 far distant when a change will come over the land. The 
 popularity of the doctrine of rope and torch for the Negro 
 is on the wane; the apostles of that doctrine have been rele- 
 gated to the rear. New ideas, more progressive, have taken 
 hold on the popular mind. 
 
 In a few more generations the Negro will be a man, 
 thoroughly trained, a true American, ready and willing, as 
 he has ever been, to fight and to die for the flag that now 
 protects' him NOT. 
 
AS WE SEE IT 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BOUT the year eighteen hundred seventy six, in a 
 beautiful section of the old State of Alabama, there 
 sat upon the large and commodious veranda of an 
 old Southern home in the golden twilight of a perfect sunset, 
 two old friends, whose friendship was of life-long standing, 
 who were alike in many respects, but yet essentially different. 
 
 One a white man and owner of the place, the other an 
 aged Negro, of the old school, were smoking in perfect 
 harmony, the white man, a meerschaum pipe of queer work- 
 manship and of great age, having been in his family for 
 three generations, the Negro the old corncob pipe so common 
 among Negroes of that day. 
 
 "Go to College? What the darn-nation good would that 
 do? Why, the time is not come for 'niggers' to be educated 
 like white men. I tell you, Abe, I shall not agree to any 
 such d nonsense." 
 
 "Yes, sar, dat what you say I guess am true when it 
 comes to ole 'niggers' like us, but what you 'goin' do wid 
 a boy lek my Abe? Ise hear'n you say when dat boy's no 
 mor'n twelve yeahs ole dat he war de smartes' boy, white 
 or black, dat war ebber on dis hyar place. Ise de fifth Abe 
 Overley, black, dat war bred an' bornd on dis hyar place. 
 Yuse de fifth Abe Overley, white. Yuse seventy-two, Ise 
 seventy-two; yo' Abe's nineteen, mine's nineteen; yo' Abe's 
 de sixth white, my Abe's de sixth black; yo' Abe an' my 
 Abe was teached by the same 'oman at the same time, den 
 de man come an' dey is both ready to go to College. Now, 
 what yo' goin' do? Yo' boy's weak, my boy's strong. You 
 war weak, I war strong. Could you git 'long widouten me? 
 Yo' Abe need my Abe, my Abe need yo' Abe." 
 
 9 
 
10 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Yes, Abe, but don't you know that these are different 
 times? That your Abe and my Abe cannot get along in 
 College as they do here? White men do not sleep with 
 'niggers' at the big Colleges. Times have changed." 
 
 "Yes, Ise hear'n dat de times am changed, but de hearts 
 ob true men never change. Does yo' think dat Abe Overley, 
 sixth, white, will ever turn his back on Abe Overley, sixth, 
 black? My Abe say he want to go to College to be a lawyer, 
 why he not? He go to Sunday School an' teach dem young 
 'niggers' ebery Sunday, an' Miss Annie Godly she say dat 
 she can't git 'long widouten him." 
 
 "Oh, yes; that is a sure indication he will make a good 
 lawyer. Who is going to pay for his schooling?" 
 
 "Why, who pay for his ticket to de Fair las' fall? Sho' 
 yo' Abe he pay for hit." 
 
 * ' H and damnation ! You ole fool, don 't you know that 
 it would cost five hundred dollars a year for his schooling? 
 What have you got, or has Abe got, to pay five hundred 
 dollars with?" 
 
 "I could sell my ole mule, an' Baldy, dat would bring 
 something." 
 
 "Why, Abe, you have no more sense in that old black 
 pate of yours than that d old kicking mule. Who would 
 buy the beast? I said five hundred dollars, not fifty cents. 
 Do you know the difference? Now, who will pay the 
 money ? ' ' 
 
 Abe replied with great solemnity: 
 
 "When yo' mammy die, she take our hands an' she put 
 dem togedder, an' she say: 'You two Abes mus' al'ays be 
 friends, no matter what de world say.' You say, 'Yes,' 
 I say, 'Yes.' When yo' wife die, she do like Miss Miranda. 
 She say to you an' she say to me, and to yo' Abe an' to 
 my Abe: 'You mus' al'ays be friends an' honor each odder'; 
 dat was inor'n eighteen yeahs ago. Who been yo' Abe's 
 mammy eber since? How many times when yo' Abe, weak 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 11 
 
 an' sick, habe he crowded my Abe from he own mammy's 
 breast? Dey sho' mus' go through dis world togedder." 
 
 "Abe, you are a cunning old 'nigger.' I cannot forget 
 these things. But conditions are not like they were in the 
 old days. The Old Homestead is mortgaged, and the crops 
 are getting worse each year, and every d 'nigger' on the 
 place is talking about going to College. What am I to do 
 in the next year or two? This dirty sneak, Lashum, holds 
 the mortgage and he wants to live on the place where the 
 hound used to boss the 'niggers,' and I hear that that whelp 
 of his wants to go to College, too. What is this world coming 
 to, 'niggers' and, worse, poor whites, talking of going to 
 College and being lawyers and doctors?" 
 
 It was early in the year eighteen seventy-six that these old 
 friends, both of the royal blood, the kind that never knows a 
 friend but as a friend, and never breakc from a friendship 
 but in death, were thus engaged in a warm discussion as to 
 the future of their sons. 
 
 A word as to the place where we find these representatives 
 of their respective races, and as to who and what they are. 
 
 About the year seventeen hundred and two there came to 
 this country a sturdy Scotch family, consisting of father, 
 mother and three sons, possessing nothing but their vigorous 
 bodies and a strong determination to get along in this new 
 world. After many wanderings and hardships, they selected 
 this spot in Alabama, upon which they settled and built their 
 ancestral home, and upon which we find them. They did not 
 belong to the people who ' ' gloried in the Holy ( ? ) Institution 
 of Slavery," but, owning slaves, they made their burdens as 
 light as possible. 
 
 When the great War of the Eebellion came on the Overleys 
 were not eager to join their neighbors in their cause ; so, as a 
 consequence, they lived under suspicion, and were in constant 
 dread lest they should be assassinated or burned out by the 
 
12 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 poor whites who were in those days just as they are today, 
 ignorant, idle and vicious. 
 
 The Rebellion finally ended, leaving this family with its 
 ancestral home intact, but much reduced in wealth, all of the 
 stock and animals of value having been carried away by bands 
 of patriotic ( ?) rebels for use at the front. 
 
 Abe Overley came of a stock of nature's noblemen. He was 
 tall, straight, broad of shoulder, strong limbed, good featured 
 and very black a typical African but the kind of man that 
 inspires trust and confidence at a glance. 
 
 Abe's parents for four generations had enjoyed the confi- 
 dence and esteem of the Overleys. The first Abe was bought 
 by one of the first Overleys at a public auction, he being sold 
 because he was considered an intractable "nigger," having 
 refused to be whipped by the overseer of the plantation upon 
 which he lived. It was said that Abe was stolen and brought 
 to this country and sold in slavery. His wild and independent 
 spirit was never broken. 
 
 Overley saw at a glance what the trouble was. As soon as 
 he had closed his bargain he took the manacles off Abe's arms 
 and said: "Abe, you are to be my right-hand man. Can I 
 trust you ? ' ' After a long and searching glance, Abe replied : 
 "You can always trust me; but you nor no living man shall 
 whip me/' 
 
 "Abe, I do not whip my people." 
 
 This bond was never broken. 
 
 Before the Rebellion the Overleys had an overseer whose 
 name was Lashum, Nick Lashum, a long, gaunt, typical 
 Alabama "cracker," whose father, grandfather and great- 
 grandfather before him were overseers, and who never aspired 
 to anything higher. This man's sole ambition was satisfied 
 when he became known as Malcolm A. Overley 's overseer. 
 
 When the war came on it soon began to be whispered about 
 the State that Nick Lashum was engaged by the Confederate 
 Government to press animals and stock of all kinds into 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 13 
 
 service, for the good of the cause. There appears to be no 
 doubt that he " pressed the animals into service," but, accord- 
 ing to the whisperers, he did not or was not able, owing to 
 the ''press of business," to account for hundreds of them. It 
 was even whispered that numerous droves of cattle gathered 
 by him found their way to the Union lines, much to his profit. 
 
 However, at the close of the war, this individual found 
 himself so well supplied with ready cash that he concluded 
 to buy a large plantation and settle upon it and live as a 
 capitalist and planter should. What place should he buy? 
 There was but one place in all the State of Alabama which 
 suited him, that was the home of his former employer, 
 Malcolm A. Overley. But this place was not for sale. The 
 adjoining plantation was, however, so he acquired this place 
 and moved upon it. 
 
 Mr. Nick Lashum was a man of family, a large and growing 
 family, a growth peculiar to this particular family of ''crack- 
 ers." As the wealth and numbers of this family increased 
 their church-going parties, regaled in all their finery, came 
 to be the sight of the county, a sight that strangers never 
 failed to enjoy. This great man, .former overseer, who had 
 grown so wealthy in such a few years, and one of whose sons 
 was clerk of the County Court, and another about to be sent 
 off to College, was looked upon by the "crackers" of his 
 section of the State as the man who was to lead them back 
 to the good old times when a "nigger's" hog was the property 
 of the first "cracker" who could steal it. 
 
 How fared the Overleys as the years sped by? Having 
 been left, after the war, without stock to work the plantation 
 thanks to the disinterestedness (?) of Nick Lashum on behalf 
 of the cause, and without farm hands to work the crops sav- 
 ing the strong arm of Old Abe and his family things had been 
 going back. For some time poor crops, poor cattle, and only 
 a few of them, had been the rule, until, after a family council, 
 it was decided to mortgage the place and raise money enough 
 
14 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 to stock the plantation as it was in the old days and begin 
 again. After much dickering and many heartaches, it was 
 decided to borrow $5,000 from the Pioneer Savings Bank of 
 A - County, Alabama, Nick Lashum, Jr., cashier. Never 
 once did Malcolm A. Overley think that Nick Lashum, Sr., 
 would advance the money and hold the mortgage, but after 
 it was all over Malcolm A. Overley had $4,750 and Nick 
 Lashum, his former overseer, held him bound for five years 
 for $5,000 at 8 per cent. This mortgage had eighteen months 
 to run when we find him discussing the advisability of sending 
 his son, together with Old Abe's son, North to College. Old 
 Abe felt that his boy should go to College with the white boy. 
 After long and deep thought Old Abe, with intense feeling, 
 spoke : 
 
 "I thought when I stan' by de bedside of yo' mammy, an' 
 she place our han's togedder and she say we war al'ays to 
 stick togedder an' to he'p each odder, an' when yo' boy's 
 mammy die she say de same thing, dat we was to he'p each 
 odder. I thought when dem Yankee sojers come, an' dey say, 
 * Old man, you kin go, ' I say, * No, I dun promise his mammy 
 to stay an' he'p him through dis life.' I thought when I 
 teach my boy he mus ' stay an ' he 'p ; I thought when I tell 
 dem odder 'niggers,' Joe an' he 'oman, Jack an' he 'oman, 
 an' Cleo an' her gals, to stay, dat I was doin' my duty, dat I 
 was keppin' my word to de daid. Ise worked on dis ole 
 plantation well nigh seventy-two yeahs, and Ise good for 
 twenty mo', but never did I tink dat de time would ebber 
 come when de Overley would break he word." 
 
 After Old Abe had delivered himself of his speech there 
 was a long, deep silence. Finally it was broken by Malcolm 
 A. Overley, with a voice trembling with emotion: 
 
 "Abe, you old black fool, who has broken word with you? 
 I said, I do not see where the money is coming from. That 
 d hound's mortgage is due in eighteen months, and I 
 haven't the money to pay it. He will surely sell me out. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 15 
 
 Now, what shall I do: take this money and send the boys to 
 College or pay this mortgage ? ' ' 
 
 Old Abe answered solemnly: 
 
 "Send de boys to College, an' trus' in de Lawd." 
 
 ' ' Trust in the Lord ! That is all you ' niggers ' think about. 
 You had better learn to trust in yourselves. However, I have 
 made up my mind that both boys shall go to Oberlin College. 
 You can tell that boy of yours that he can go with my boy 
 when he leaves for College this fall, but I want all the work 
 done on the place before they go." 
 
 "Thank God!" said Old Abe; "I know'd dat yo' heart is 
 in de same place dat all de rest of de Overleys is." 
 
 As a fit finale to this discussion, Mammy Cleo blew three 
 shrill blasts on the supper horn. 
 
 Soon the field hands are coming in, as is evidenced by the 
 vocal sounds of melody that float soothingly to the ears of the 
 two old friends. First to come through the yard to the great 
 house is a tall youth, with a delicate face, lit up with clear 
 blue eyes, with a well-formed head, covered with thick light 
 hair, which hung about his ears in ringlets, the face, head and 
 carriage of the man of good blood and breeding. This youth 
 was Abe, sixth, white. He took a seat on the floor of the 
 veranda, leaning his back against a post, looked up at his 
 father and laughingly inquired: "Why, dad, what is the 
 matter? Have you and Uncle Abe been quarreling over the 
 stock or over some passage in the Bible, or what?" 
 
 * ' No, we have not. That old fool thinks I ought to send his 
 Abe to College with you this fall," answered the parent. 
 
 "Why, dad, I think he is perfectly right. Abe ought to go 
 to College; he certainly deserves it." 
 
 At that moment a tall young Negro of manly appearance, 
 a perfect counterpart of Old Abe, came up to the veranda and 
 sat down. He also observed the faces of the old men. 
 
 "Why, dad, what is the matter?" he exclaimed. "Have 
 
16 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 you and Mr. Overley disagreed again on some point in the 
 Bible, or some point in farming?" 
 
 "No, d your black hide," spoke up Overley, Sr. ; "we 
 have disagreed on you." 
 
 "Why, what is the matter with me? Have I not done my 
 work well ever since I have been old enough to work ? ' ' 
 
 "Oh, d your work! I wish I could find some fault in 
 that line. This old fool insists that I pay $500 a year for 
 your schooling, until you get through College, that is what 
 I mean." 
 
 For several moments there was nothing said by any of the 
 four friends. Finally, the younger Overley said: 
 
 "Father, if the money is not to be had, let us fix it this 
 way. Let Abe here go the first year, and I will stay home 
 and keep up the place. The next year he will keep up the 
 place and I will go. He can give me the benefit of what he 
 has learned when he comes home. ' ' 
 
 Abe protests that the white boy is entitled to the first year, 
 but Overley, Sr., cut the discussion short by announcing that 
 he had determined that both boys should go to College 
 together; therefore he didn't want any more "d talk." 
 
 Both boys then moved away to the corn crib, their favorite 
 resort, to talk the matter over. 
 
 "Abe," says the black boy, "your father is a mighty good 
 man to spend all that money on me." 
 
 "Yes, but you and Uncle Abe have been mighty good to us. 
 What would we have done after the war had your father left 
 us, or had he said to the rest of the people, ' Let us go North ? ' 
 We would have been left without help or hope. He remem- 
 bers how Uncle Abe and the rest worked for five years without 
 being paid one penny, and " 
 
 "Yes, but your father has paid us in full, paid every 
 penny," interrupted the black boy. 
 
 "Yes, but off of whose labor?" 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 17 
 
 "No matter, he has paid up. Where in all this State will 
 you find another white man, who, having had twenty-three 
 colored people working for him for five years, without pay, 
 would have paid them one cent? Very, very few. Your 
 father mortgaged his plantation. If he had not paid us he 
 would not have had that to do. No, Abe, he is a mighty 
 good man." 
 
 ''Yes," says the white boy, "he is a dear old dad;" then 
 adds: "Say, Abe, didn't he cuss Well! So we are to go to 
 school together?" 
 
 " I am sure I do not know ; what College are we going to ? " 
 
 "Oberlin College." 
 
 "That is the one College in this country that I want to 
 go through. They say they do not know color there. Just 
 to think of anyone failing to see whether I am white or 
 black!" and both boys laughed heartily. 
 
 * ' Say, Abe, ' ' the white boy said, ' ' I hear that Buck Lashum 
 is to go to College this fall." 
 
 "What College?" 
 
 "I do not know," answered the white boy. 
 
 ' * Well, we must not let him know what College we are going 
 to attend, nor that I am going with you." 
 
 "Why, Abe, what difference does that make?" 
 
 "Well, I must say that I feel it would be better to keep 
 our plans from him until we are gone, at any rate." 
 
 "Abe, you will see what will happen to him if he has 
 anything to say to me about your going. I haven't forgotten 
 the thrashing you gave him when he tried to force himself 
 on my sister Lucy when you drove her to Deaconsville to the 
 camp meeting last fall," laughed the white boy. "His black 
 eyes were such beauties, and they lasted so long. Say, but 
 dad forgot his rheumatism when he was told what happened. 
 When they told him that the sheriff had put you in the 
 cababoose for licking Buck Lashum for insulting Sister Lucy, 
 gee! how he ran to the harness room, and got a saddle and 
 
18 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 bridle, and ran to the field, and got Old Ben, and such cussing 
 and riding you never heard nor saw. I, on Nell, kept as 
 close to him as I could, but Old Ben seemed to be cussing 
 mad, too, for I never saw that old horse go so fast before. 
 Didn't the whole Lashum family fall back when they saw 
 him coming? And didn't the sheriff get you out of the pen 
 mighty quick? But, poor Buck was a sight, and Mr. Nick 
 Lashum, how he made excuses for Buck. But dad wouldn't 
 listen, and wanted to lick the whole family. Abe, you must 
 have soaked him some good ones. Dad was talking about 
 that fellow to us last night, saying he would just as leave be 
 kicked by Uncle Abe's old mule as for you to hit him. Now, 
 I know that those Lashums, and particularly Buck, do not 
 like you, Abe; but I can't see why we should care. A poor 
 white man, Abe, is no good." 
 
 "Yes, yes," says the black boy, "I know that, but you 
 cannot view a poor white man, a 'cracker,' from the same 
 viewpoint that I do. Compared, Abe, with the race of white 
 men that you and your family belong to, the * cracker' sinks 
 away below any living thing. He is meaner and dirtier than 
 any reptile that creeps on the face of the earth or swims in 
 the water beneath the earth. There is nothing too mean and 
 low for him to do to a Negro Pshaw! What is the use of 
 discussing a 'cracker,' anyhow? The question that concerns 
 me most just now is what will we need to take with us when 
 we go off to College. ' ' 
 
 "I don't know," said the white boy; "let us ask father; he 
 has been to College. ' ' 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 )R the benefit of my readers who are not familiar with 
 the Alabama ' ' crackers ' ' I will give an historical sketch 
 of the Lashum family, that they may draw their own 
 conclusion. This family dates back to the last years of the 
 war for independence; at least, that is the time of the first 
 record which the State has of its existence. The following 
 can be found in the Western Bulletin, Monday, September 12, 
 1709: 
 
 "Nick Lashum, who lives in a log cabin on a small clearing 
 in Foggy Bottom, on Mars Creek, was taken out of his cabin 
 by a Vigilance Committee and given nine and thirty lashes on 
 his bare back. 
 
 "It appears that the Indians have been drinking and caus- 
 ing a great deal of trouble lately. The source of their supply 
 of whiskey could not be ascertained. It was at last determined 
 by the Vigilance Committee to search Foggy Bottom, where 
 a few disreputable 'crackers' have squatted. The search 
 revealed the fact that Nick Lashum was making corn whiskey 
 and trading it to the Indians in his neighborhood. The 
 search also revealed the further fact that Nick Lashum was 
 the leader of a gang of moonshiners who were making corn 
 whiskey and trading it to the Indians and Negroes in all the 
 lower counties of the State. 
 
 "Nick Lashum and his confederates will be tried at the 
 next Quarter Session of Court and are likely to get long terms 
 in the penitentiary. ' ' 
 
 Thus the Lashums are ushered into the limelight of history. 
 No mention is made of what finally became of this Nick 
 Lashum, but tradition has it that he came back from the 
 penitentiary to his old haunts and resumed his old habits 
 until the time of his death, which was hastened by a Vigilance 
 Committee after Nick had been caught with some cattle upon 
 which the brand had been changed. This man appears to 
 
 19 
 
20 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 have been the progenitor of this race of Lashum, many of 
 whom proved to be worthy of their sire. 
 
 The Nick Lashum of this sketch was a long, gaunt, lean 
 "cracker" with a thin, sharp face, lit up by a pair of small 
 gray eyes full of low cunning and treachery, that never looked 
 you in the face. His head was topped off by a crop of thin 
 stringy hair, that was entirely unused to care. His garments, 
 which were gray in color, might have been homespun or 
 anything else, and hung in loose flaps about his person, the 
 trousers ( ?) stuffed into ragged cowhide boots. 
 
 This gentleman, a typical ' ' cracker ' ' overseer, having heard 
 that Malcolm A. Overley wanted an overseer, owing to the 
 death of Pete Quickly, who had served the Overleys for 
 twenty-five years, betook himself to the Overley plantation to 
 apply for the position. 
 
 With much fear and many misgivings he finally mustered 
 up courage enough to pass the portals of the big gate and 
 make his way to the great house, where he expected to find the 
 master. As Nick neared the house he removed his hat and 
 walked slowly up the gravel path, where he was accosted by 
 Old Abe, who inquired of him who he was, whom he wanted 
 to see, and upon what business. 
 
 At first, Nick was inclined to feel insulted and hurt that a 
 big black "nigger" should ask him what he wanted. But, 
 upon second thought, he remembered how near Old Abe was 
 to the "throne," so he answered very civilly that he wanted 
 to see Mr. Overley and wanted the job of overseer. 
 
 After some thought Abe concluded he would conduct him 
 to his master. This was done with many misgivings as to 
 the future, should he be selected. Nick was cautioned to keep 
 close to Old Abe, lest the dogs should attack him, as they did 
 not like "no po' white man, nohow," and to keep his hat 
 under his arm, where it belonged ; all of which Nick was glad 
 to do ; but making a mental vow, however, that he would skin 
 Old Abe if he succeeded in getting the place of overseer. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 21 
 
 Turning a sharp bend in the path, Nick, without warning, 
 came suddenly upon Mr. Over-ley and his family under the 
 shade of a large tree, and the sight seemed to deprive Nick 
 of power of speech. He stood looking at his ragged boots and 
 holding his hands before him. Mr. Overley sprang to his feet, 
 looking first at Old Abe, then at Nick, not seeming to com- 
 prehend the meaning of the intrusion. At last he spoke, and 
 demanded of Old Abe what this man had done, and why he 
 had brought him there, the man's demeanor leading him to 
 believe that he had been trespassing. When he was told that 
 the man wanted the position of overseer, Mr. Overley laughed 
 heartily, and the women drew close and examined him very 
 attentively. 
 
 Abe said: 
 
 Dis po ' white man come up de walk an ' say he want to see 
 you 'bout being yo' oberseer. I say he kin see you, but I 
 guess he kin talk for heself, maybe. Say, Mr. Oberseer, dat 
 am Mr. Overley. Kin you talk? You hab to talk mor'n dat 
 to git work outten dem ' niggers ' back in de cotton patch. ' ' 
 
 Nick, thus goaded by Old Abe, finally said : 
 
 "Sah, Mr. Overley, I heah thet Old Pete was gone an' daid, 
 an ' that you war in need of a man to look arter yo ' ' niggers. ' 
 My 'oman she say you mought take me on, in Old Pete 's place. 
 I Ve been hankerin ' arter yuse job for a long time, sah. ' ' 
 
 1 'Well, you have, have you? Where did you work last, 
 and why did you leave ? ' ' 
 
 "I worked for Mr. Jim Connors, down on the bottom in 
 Grove Neck. He sol' all his 'niggers' an' gone 'way. He 
 never did lek plantation life. He gin me one 'nigger,' but I 
 couldn 't feed him, so I took an ' sol ' him. He was as no count 
 'nigger' as you ever see; couldn't git him to do nothin'. Sell 
 a bad 'nigger,' sah, same as you sell a bad hoss." 
 
 "I have no bad 'niggers,' neither have I any bad horses; 
 all my people are happy and content. I am afraid you would 
 
22 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 cause them to become dissatisfied. What do you want per 
 year ? ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Jim gin me $180 a yeah an' house an' ten acres, the 
 house free. I git along on that very well, sah." 
 
 "Well, you can see me in two days." 
 
 "Yes, sah; my 'oman she say " 
 
 "That is all, sir; you may see me in two days. Abe, see 
 that the dogs do not molest him." 
 
 Nick, with his hat still under his arm, bowed most pro- 
 foundly and turned to leave by the path through which he 
 came. 
 
 Old Abe called to him, saying : 
 
 "Come dis way, white man. Dem dorgs will eat you up 
 down dat path by yo'sef. What you go dat way for, nohow? 
 You mus ' tink yo ' Mars Jim Corners. De nex ' time yo ' come 
 heah yo' come in de way I am now showin' yo' out. If dem 
 dorgs had seed yo' fust well, dey don't like yo' kin' people, 
 nohow. ' ' 
 
 "It strikes me, Abe, yuse a mighty peart ' nigger.' I sup- 
 pose yuse is boss heah ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, Ise de boss of dis house, an' dem stables, an' dat 
 garden patch, an' all dem chickens an' fowls yo' dunno dat, 
 does yo'?" 
 
 ' ' Oh, I tink it war somethin ' like that yuse welcome. ' ' 
 
 By this time their walk had led them to the barnyard, out 
 of which a lane ran through the cornfield to the main road. 
 Abe's parting shot was: 
 
 "Look out, white man, for dem dorgs when yo' come back 
 through dis corn patch, an' git yo' hat off befo' yo' come 
 through dis gate." 
 
 "Abe, you kin do me a good " 
 
 "Dat am all, sah; yo' kin see me in two days," said Old 
 Abe, with the most aggravating composure. 
 
 Nick stood for a moment glaring at Old Abe ; then he turned 
 and walked hurriedly down the lane toward the main road. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 23 
 
 Owing to Abe's thoughtfulness, Nick had about three-fourths 
 of a mile farther to walk to get out to the main road on his 
 way home. Abe watched Nick until he passed out of sight; 
 then he laughed and remarked to himself : 
 
 "Dat man goin' raise de debble on dis heah place some 
 day." 
 
 Turning to a large brindle hound that watched Nick very 
 closely during his visit, Abe said to the dog: 
 
 "Joe, yo' jus' watch fo' dat po' white man day arter 
 tomorrow, an' if he try to open dat gate yo' jes' stop him; 
 dat 'sail." 
 
 The dog seemed to understand what Abe had said, for he 
 gave Nick's direction a contemptuous glance and walked away 
 with Abe. 
 
 True to his appointment, Nick appeared at the barnyard 
 gate, hat in hand, but afraid to open it, for there stood Joe 
 looking at him in no uncertain way. Abe was in the harness 
 room cleaning harness when Joe, by his growl, let him know 
 that Nick had arrived. Abe looked through the window and 
 saw Nick at the gate and resumed his work as composedly as 
 if he were not there. 
 
 "Dat po' white man am com'; well, he can wait or he can 
 com' in, an' Joe an' de res' of de dorgs will look arter him." 
 
 After about three-quarters of an hour Abe appeared at the 
 door of the harness room and said: 
 
 "Man alives, is dat yo'? I couldn't 'magine what dat dorg 
 dun saw at de gate. "Why yo ' not cum in ? 'Spec ' Mars Abe 
 cumin' to see yo' heah? Man, yo' ain't nebber goin' git 
 'long on his heah place ; yo ' too slow. ' ' 
 
 ' ' I was af eared of that dorg, ' ' said Nick. 
 
 "Well, dat dorg he don't lek no po' white man, dat sho.' 
 Cum on an' see what Mars Abe goin' say. You sich a noble 
 lookin' critter dat I sho' Massa goin' have you," said Abe, 
 after contemptuously surveying Nick's tattered appearance. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 next morning at sunrise both of the old men met at 
 their usual place on the veranda. They smoked a long 
 time in silence, which was finally broken by a remark 
 from the owner of the place. 
 
 "Abe, what do you think those boys will want to do when 
 they get out of College?" 
 
 ' 1 1 guess your boy will want to go to Congress and my boy 
 will he'p dese po' 'niggers' git back som' ob de Ian' dat has 
 been tooken from den by dat Lashum fambly." 
 
 ' ' That would be a good thing for him to do ; but I am afraid 
 his hide would not be worth a picayune when he tries it." 
 
 "Ise hearn him say dat, too. Den he say dat he intends 
 to try, so he 'p him God, when he cum back. Dat boy, he mean 
 what he say." 
 
 "Well, Abe, what do you think of that boy starting a legal 
 fight with these poor whites? They are in control of the 
 county and the Courts and everything else that I know of. 
 Then, Abe, do you think that it is right for a ' nigger ' to fight 
 a white man ? ' ' 
 
 "Well, I tell yo', 'fore de war, when all de ' niggers' 'long 
 to som'body e'se, all dat I hearn am dat de Lawd made a 
 white man fus', an' dat de white man war made specially by 
 de Lawd to own an' boss de 'nigger.' Den I belebe dat de 
 'nigger' jes' natchuly 'long to de white man. But when dem 
 white sojers cum heah an' lick de debble outen dese white 
 folks an' I see how meek an' humble lek dey cum to dem, den 
 I say, What am dis ? Am I right nohow ? Is dese white folks 
 what dey is cracked up to be ? Den I see dat Lashum fambly 
 puttin' on airs an' silks the same folks dat I seed 'fore de 
 war in missus' ole work apron. Den I say, What am dis 
 world a cumin' to? But when I see all dem trash fishiatin' 
 'round 'lection day an' havin' all de say, den I say dat de 
 
 26 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 27 
 
 debble am de boss arter all, an' dat de po' 'nigger' am de feed 
 for his fire, an' dat if de men lek you an' Mr. Jim Corners 
 an' Mr. Big Joe Wheatly don't took an' do somefin' dis 
 country ain't goin' to las'. Whoever hear'n of anything 
 lassin' dat dese po' white trash does? Does I tink dat a 
 'nigger' oughten fight a white man? Dis is what I was 
 teached. Dat I was to 'spect a white man an' not answer him 
 back nor hit him. But dem was slavery days. What de dif- 
 ference now, I dunno. 
 
 "I does know dat dem po' white trash on de Neck is a 
 whole lot wus den me or my people is, an' dat you an' Mr. Jim 
 an' Mr. Big Joe is a mighty sight better 'n dem 'niggers' what 
 gits drunk all de time an' hangs 'round de cross-roads. But 
 is I as good as you an' de res' ob yo' friends? Dat keeps me 
 wake ob nights. My boy he young an' read de books. He 
 say dat all men is bornd ekil, an' dat a man is what he make 
 heself . He say dat a man hab no right to say he am as good 
 as dis one or dat one, because he am a man, but he mus' make 
 heself a man. He say dat ebry man will find he strata in 
 'ciety. What he mean by dat?" 
 
 "He means his level." 
 
 "He say dat a 'nigger' or po' white man dat say he got a 
 right to cum to yo' house an 'cum in an' set down, widouten 
 you ax him in, am a fool. Dat what I tink. I don't let dem 
 trashy 'niggers' cum to my house, nor does yo' 'low dem po' 
 white trash to cum heah. But den I jes' don't feel dat Ise fit 
 to mingle wid yo ' gess. No, I don 't tink so. Now, when dem 
 boys cum back from College, dey may or dey may not be 
 chums ; but dey will say how dey will treat each odder at dey 
 own house. It 'pends 'tirely on who dese people is. I tink 
 dat a 'nigger' oughter fight ebry po' white man dat don't treat 
 him or he kinfolks right. Dat what yo' an' yo' friends 
 does." 
 
 ' ' That is so, Abe ; but I did not think that you felt that way 
 all together." 
 
28 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 After Old Abe had relapsed into silence, Malcolm A. Overley 
 pondered Abe's remarks for a long time. 
 
 " What a change a few years have wrought ! Old Abe, d 
 his black hide, feels that he is almost as good as me and my 
 friends! He has doubts on that score. Well, who the h 
 would have thought it ? But he has sense enough not to push 
 himself. He holds himself above the low 'niggers' about here. 
 He is looked up to by all the ' good niggers ' far and near. He 
 is right to hold himself above these d poor trashy whites, I 
 could never understand why these poor whites hated Abe and 
 his boy so. I see now. There is a natural antipathy between 
 the two classes. Abe and his kind represent all that is honest 
 and true, while the poor whites are just the opposite. But can 
 this boy afford to start a fight with these people just at the 
 time he comes out of College and with nothing to live upon? 
 In spite of myself, I can but admire that boy's pluck and 
 spirit. 
 
 "Well, I guess I will come in for my share of trouble for 
 sending him off to College. Why, I must be getting babyish. 
 Who the h will dare to question an Overley as to his reason 
 for doing what he thinks proper?" 
 
 Thus he smoked and dreamed for an hour. Suddenly he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 ' ' Abe, you have changed somewhat in the past year or so, it 
 seems to me." 
 
 "I don't reckon yo' ever axed me dat question befo'. My 
 boy say dat dere am no mo' 'niggers,' but all am 'Merican 
 citizens, free an' ekil befo' de law. Dat what he say. Now. 
 Ise a citizen an' has de rights. What 1 goin' to let dem po 1 
 white trash bamboozle me oughten dem fo'?" 
 
 "Abe, why do you continually refer to the poor whites? 
 Are they the only people who do not treat you right ? ' ' 
 
 * * Why, man alives, ' ' said Abe, with wrath, ' ' don 't yo ' know 
 dat de po' white trash am de onliest people in dis whole world 
 dat am al'ays hollerin' 'nigger,' 'Jim Crow,' 'social 'quality.' 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 29 
 
 'nigger marrying white 'oman, ' an ' de debble knows what all 
 sich fool talk dat causes trouble? Dem very same trash dat 
 kotches our likely lookin' gals on de road an' drags dem in de 
 bushes. Dem de people dat sees a hard-workin' 'nigger' wid 
 a home, an' a mule, an' a 'fix' to go to church wid, dat gits 
 up de mob an' hollers dat dis ' nigger' is arter he wife or gal. 
 Den dey burn he home, an' barn, an' take he life, an' mule, 
 an' hog, an 'fix' to pay de damage. Dem's de trash dat 
 gemmen lek you an' Mr. Jim an' Mr. Big Joe oughter he'p 
 us for to fight. 'Fore de war when dem same critters did 
 steal hogs an' de lek, yo' all did ride to dere cabins an' take 
 dem out an' flog dem on dere bare backs. Now, dey do de 
 same thing more bold; holler rape, an' de whole country is 
 ridin' an' beatin' ebry 'nigger' dey meet, an' if he owns a 
 good hoss dat is better 'n dear'n, dey swops hosses wid him 
 whedder he wants to or no. 
 
 "Why, man alives!" said Old Abe, with increasing wrath, 
 "dese things am 'nuff to make a man bus' wide open, an' dey 
 is gettin' wus. When dat drunken Smaly boy kotch my Sally 
 Jane on de road dat night, when you an' Mr. Jim hearn her 
 holler, hit was a good ting dat yo' Abe hide dat gun. I run 
 for de gun fus', but yo' an' Mr. Jim git dere fus'. I sho' 
 would hab killed him. 
 
 ' ' But, Lawdy , how my Abe did walk on him ! I think sho ' 
 dat de padroller would git him. I nebber tol' you dat it war 
 my Abe dat beat him up so. No, sah. I was afraid dat yo' 
 would think dat a 'nigger' oughten lick a white man." 
 
 This last sentence was spoken in such a solemn tone that 
 both men laughed heartily. 
 
 "Abe, you are a sly old rascal. You know perfectly well 
 that I have abused your boy time and again and told him that 
 he was a coward for allowing that poor white hound to get off 
 without a thrashing. And you would not tell me ? You told 
 my boy, though. I can now understand why you three devils 
 
30 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 always grinned in my face every time I spoke of that case. 
 Told my boy, but would not tell me. Why not me ? ' ' 
 
 "Well, when dem boys cum to me an' Abe tol' me what he 
 dun done, yo' Abe say dat you better not know 'bout it. I 
 say no, you dun got 'nuff on yo' mind 'thout dat. Dat I war 
 Abe's daddy, an' dat I war de one to bar de trouble. So I 
 say, no, an' dat end it." 
 
 "Well, Abe, that was very kind of you. What you say 
 about those poor white people has long been a source of worry 
 for me and my friends. Only last night we determined to get 
 together and try to put a stop to these deviltries. It will be a 
 hard job. These poor whites are in the saddle now; we have 
 been asleep too long, and they have taken advantage of every- 
 thing. We are going to try to stop them by fair means ; and, 
 if not, then we will try the same method we used on them 
 before the war." 
 
 It appears that the Negro referred to in a previous chapter 
 as belonging to Nick Lashum he having been given to 
 Lashum by Mr. Jim Connors, and sold by Nick as a worthless 
 * nigger' had, after the war, accumulated some property and 
 had a good home, upon which he reared a family of nine 
 children, the eldest of whom was a man of family and taught 
 the County School for colored children. This young man had 
 a wife and three children. He rode a very fine colt to and 
 from his school, which was some distance from his home. 
 There was but one other horse in that end of the State which 
 could hold his own at the County Fairs with this colt, and 
 that horse belonged to young Malcolm A. Overley. This 
 Negro's horse was the envy of every poor white man in that 
 section. Often was the remark made that that horse was too 
 good for a 'nigger,' and that he must have stolen it. 
 
 Finally, the man appeared who lost (?) the colt, although 
 it was well known that this colt was sired by Malcolm A. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 31 
 
 Overlay's horse, "Ben," known all over the State by its color 
 and markings. 
 
 One warm July night, while this old Negro and his family 
 were sitting about the front of their home, a party of horsemen 
 were heard coming down the road. Nothing was thought of 
 that until the sound of horses ' hoofs was heard coming up the 
 back road toward the rear of the place. Suddenly all sounds 
 ceased; then a pistol shot was heard; then a rush of horses' 
 hoofs; and before one of the astonished Negroes could gather 
 his wits volleys from shotguns and revolvers were fired 
 amongst them, killing and maiming men, women and children 
 alike. The old father, the young schoolmaster and his young- 
 est child, who was asleep on his lap, were killed. The wife, 
 who was about to become a mother, was trampled to death 
 beneath the horses' hoofs, before she could drag herself out 
 of the way. The dwelling and barn were fired in a dozen 
 places at once. Both buildings, together with their contents, 
 save the colt in question, were consumed. 
 
 The Alabama News, the leading newspaper of the State at 
 that time, had the following conservative account of this 
 tragedy : 
 
 "George Burrell, a Desperate Negro, Whose Desperate Deeds 
 Date Back Before the War, and His Son, Who Was 
 Following in His Father's Footsteps, and Two More of 
 His Desperate Family, Wiped Out by Sheriff C. Lashum 
 and a Posse of Citizens. 
 
 "It appears that a Deputy Sheriff went earlier in the day 
 to the cabin of George Burrell to replevin the colt that Burrell 
 had stolen. The Deputy Sheriff was met at the door by 
 Burrell and his son, both armed with double-barrelled shot- 
 guns, and his life threatened if he dared to serve his papers. 
 
 "The Sheriff was notified and the papers were served with 
 the above result. It appears that in the fight which ensued 
 upon the service of the papers the lamp was overturned and 
 
32 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 the cabin was soon in names, which, in turn, spread to the 
 barn, both buildings being entirely consumed. 
 
 |* It is to be regretted that a Negro woman and two small 
 children were trampled upon by horses ; but the citizens claim 
 that the horses became unmanageable when the fire started. 
 
 "A Coroner's jury, which was empanelled on the spot, 
 exonerated the Sheriff and his Deputies, as it was clearly 
 shown that the Negroes resisted the service of a legal paper. 
 
 "It will be well for the Negroes and all concerned when 
 they learn not to resist the law, but to submit to the lawful 
 service of papers as white men do. ' ' 
 
 This conservative account of a most atrocious and bloody 
 deed was heralded to the outside world as another example of 
 Negro depravity, degeneracy and disregard for the law and 
 its representatives. This paper sent out this account without 
 investigating the case, and based its report upon the statement 
 made by one of the parties who participated in the killing. 
 
 The facts are as follows: 
 
 The party who sought to replevin the horse well knew that 
 he could not maintain the suit, if it were presented to the 
 Court in the regular way. So it was determined to put the 
 two principal witnesses, the old Negro and his son, out of the 
 way, which was done very successfully. The finding of the 
 Coroner's Jury, which was composed of members of the mid- 
 night marauders, empanelled on the spot, was not questioned. 
 The Sheriff was there with his papers, and the Deputy Sheriff 
 who swore that he was at the place earlier in the day and was 
 met by the old Negro father and son with guns in their hands, 
 was also there, although, as a matter of fact, he was not on the 
 place prior to his coming with the mob, who were bent on 
 killing a prosperous Negro and his family. All these things 
 were known to persons in the neighborhood, but the machinery 
 of the law was in the hands of the murderers and nothing 
 could be done. The attention of the Governor of the State 
 was called to the case, together with the fact that what was 
 left of the family had been driven from that section of the 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 33 
 
 country and their property practically confiscated. The 
 Governor was informed by his special agent, Garrington, that 
 the Negroes resisted the lawful service of a legal paper, and 
 that all the killings naturally followed the unlawful acts of 
 the Negroes. 
 
 The loss of property and the driving from home of helpless 
 children by the Lashums was not gone into. Everything was 
 regular and according to law. 
 
 This outrage is what brought Malcolm A. Overley and his 
 friends together. We shall see later what good was done by 
 this combination of law-abiding white citizens. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 BOUT one week after the boys had gone, two letters 
 arrived. Both began : 
 
 "Dear Father: We arrived safe and sound. So 
 did Buck Lashum." 
 
 Each father instinctively looked at the other, and read the 
 other's thoughts. Each felt that this announcement meant 
 trouble for his boy. 
 
 The letters contained the statements that the boys were 
 through with their examinations; that both had passed with 
 credit, and had been assigned to their respective classes. 
 
 They had secured adjoining rooms, but were very much 
 disappointed to learn that Buck Lashum had secured a room 
 on the same floor, across the hall on the front tier, overlooking 
 the campus one of the rooms sought by the rich boys. 
 
 They also spoke of the boys of different nationalities who 
 were attending the College. There were Englishmen, Scotch- 
 men, Italians, Spaniards, Japanese, Chinese, Negroes, French- 
 men, Germans, and one Persian of a noble family. 
 
 As all the young men spoken of in the letter met in the 
 chapel at devotional exercises and at the mess table, the 
 Southern boys, led by Buck Lashum, not understanding the 
 sentiment which prevailed at this College, promptly waited 
 upon the President, the grand old Dr. Finley, and requested 
 that the Negroes, also the Japanese, Chinese and the Persians, 
 be seated at a separate table, so that the gentlemen of the 
 South could enjoy their meals without feeling that they were 
 degrading themselves by eating with "niggers." 
 
 The President of the College listened very attentively to 
 these students, then asked: "Do you know who these young 
 men are? And what is your objection?" 
 
 34 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 35 
 
 Mr. Buck Lashum, being the spokesman of the party, and 
 not having had that early education which would have fitted 
 him to act in such a matter, blurted out : ' ' They are niggers. ' ' 
 
 "Sit down, gentlemen," said the good man; "let me tell 
 you who these gentlemen are." 
 
 He then called the Secretary and had the roster of the 
 College brought. 
 
 "Now, let me see who these people are to whom you so 
 strenuously object. First, we have the two Japanese, one, the 
 son of Baron Yoshida; the other, a son of Count Nagayana; 
 both old aristocratic families, whose names have been inter- 
 woven in the history of the Eastern world for more than a 
 century. 
 
 "Next, we have the Chinese, four in number, who are 
 descendants of families, the youngest of which antedates the 
 building of the great Chinese Wall, years before the Chris- 
 tian era. 
 
 1 ' The Persian is a prince of the royal blood, brother of the 
 present ruler of Persia, whose family dates back 981 B. C. 
 
 "Next, we have the Negroes from Jamaica, whose fathers 
 are British subjects, included among the wealthy, cultured 
 and progressive men on that Island. 
 
 "The next five are sons of Afro- Americans, some of whom 
 you gentlemen may have known before you came to this 
 College. I understand that one or two of you looking at 
 Buck have personal acquaintance with some of these Afro- 
 Americans. 
 
 * ' Now, I notice among you some native born Southern men, 
 and some who have never been South. What am I to infer? 
 That you young men have gotten together and come to the 
 conclusion, before you have been here long enough to know 
 the sentiment or learn the rules which govern this Institution, 
 that there is something radically wrong in the management 
 of this College, and that all that is needed is just a little care 
 at your hands and all will be set right ? 
 
36 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "You young men who come from the South may think you 
 are right because you have been taught these ideas; but you 
 young men who have never been South must have borrowed 
 these ideas, which are no credit to you. 
 
 "As President of this College, I will inform you, gentle- 
 men, that the College will continue to stand by its old rules 
 and customs, and live up to the sentiment which has always 
 dominated it, and if in any way the table does not suit you 
 gentlemen, you will be permitted to have a table at which 
 you may enjoy yourselves as your sense of dignity may dictate. 
 These young men are students here in the same sense that 
 you are, entitled to all the rights and consideration to which 
 you are entitled. It is not the policy of this College to 
 humiliate one student at the behest of another. I am rather 
 astonished at this proceeding. You gentlemen have just 
 entered College. You have been here but three weeks, and 
 yet you come to me with a request for me to unsettle a policy 
 which was established forty years ago. Am I to consider you 
 a disturbing element? 
 
 "My advice to all of you is, look well to your books; look 
 well to your lectures; look well to yourselves, lest these same 
 boys whom you now hold in such contempt outstrip you when 
 examination day comes, and leave the management of the 
 College to those upon whom that duty devolves." 
 
 With these words, spoken in a kindly voice, but in no 
 uncertain way, the President arose and the interview was 
 at an end. 
 
 When this delegation was well out of hearing of the 
 President's office, Buck Lashum burst forth with an oath, 
 saying : 
 
 "Who would have thought that a white man would have 
 said that a 'nigger' is as good as a white man, and that a 
 white man can eat at a side table if he don't like the 'niggers' 
 being present ! 
 
 "I, for one, will write home and tell my pappy that I am 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 37 
 
 sick from eating with 'niggers' and want to come home. He 
 will send for me by the next mail/'* 
 
 The next speaker was a boy who came from a ' ' copperhead ' ' 
 family of Southern Indiana by the name of Bloxum. This 
 family possesses nothing but a reputation for aping aristo- 
 cratic people and forming friendships with the newly rich 
 of their neighborhood. 
 
 There appeared to be something in Buck Lashum for 
 Bloxum, hence the newly formed friendship. 
 
 "Buck, don't do nothing of the sort; stay right here and 
 let's give them h . These 'niggers' have no business here; 
 we can freeze them out." 
 
 ' * That is right, ' ' spoke up the rest ; ' * we can arouse enough 
 sentiment to force the faculty to put them out." 
 
 "We can write home and ask our people to write here, 
 saying that the 'nigger' must go," said Bloxum. 
 
 Then spoke up young Bucker : 
 
 "Well, you fellows can do that if you choose, but I am 
 going to take Dr. Finley at his word and let this thing alone. 
 I didn't want to mix up with this affair in the beginning, 
 anyhow. My father has no money to waste on me fooling 
 with other people's business. I must make my time count 
 while I am in College. ' ' 
 
 "Just like you," said Bloxum, "afraid of your shadow. 
 Well, I guess we can find enough white men in this College 
 to carry this thing through." 
 
 "We will try without you," said the rest. 
 
 ' ' That is what you will have to do, ' ' replied Bucker. 
 
 When this visit to the President became known, and what 
 these young men had attempted to do, the foreigners were 
 astonished. Being of royal blood, they could not understand 
 what was meant by the attitude, and the request preferred, 
 and took just the opposite view, thinking that the common 
 people were afraid to sit with royalty, and, therefore, under- 
 
38 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 took to explain to Lashum and Bloxum their willingness to 
 waive the point in etiquette so long as they were in school. 
 
 When the students learned that the foreigners had con- 
 descendingly endeavored to waive this point in etiquette and 
 were willing that these protesting boys should eat at the same 
 table with them, the jibes and shafts of wit and sarcasm 
 thrust at them by the students would have been unbearable to 
 persons of refinement and culture, but were completely lost 
 upon these boys one the son of a former overseer of six 
 generations of overseers, the other the son of a "copperhead/' 
 whose natural characteristic is what the word "copperhead" 
 is meant to imply. 
 
 Consequently, in the density of their ignorance and self- 
 conceit they failed utterly to appreciate the ridiculous position 
 in which they had placed themselves. Both Buck and his 
 friend Bloxum failed to pass the examinations which had 
 been passed with credit by the boys whom they presumed to 
 condemn; but they were permitted to go on conditionally. 
 
 Buck felt that he was white and that that was all that was 
 necessary. 
 
 By the end of the first quarter he had learned better. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ST IS now Christmas time following the departure of the 
 boys. We find the two Old Abes before the great fire- 
 place smoking and discussing their absent sons. Suddenly 
 Overley changed the conversation by remarking: 
 
 "Abe, I am expecting some friends here tonight. Mr. Jim 
 Connors sent me word that he would come over and stay a 
 couple of days ; so I have invited some of the old family heads 
 to join us, as I think it a fit time to discuss ways and means 
 to put a stop to these cussed 'crackers' carryings on. Big 
 Joe Wheatly, the Postmaster, Sam Hurry, and the only one 
 left in office who belongs to my circle of friends, Dr. Jack 
 Gushing, the minister, Rev. Dr. Snell, and " 
 
 "The minister?" interrupts Abe. "I hope, sah, dat you 
 will 'member he presence an' not forgit yo' presence ob mine 
 an' say nothin' dat he will feel called on to pray fo' you fo'. 
 You 'member what you done do de las' time he war under 
 dis roof?" (Overley having been guilty of using some very 
 strong language in reference to the Doctor's sentiment on 
 Slavery.) 
 
 "Abe, who the h made you my censor? Who " 
 
 "What dat? Who made me what? What you mean by 
 dem big words ? Dat one ting dat I al 'ays take count on when 
 I gits right whar you oughter listen; den you go on wid yo' 
 big words, tell somehow I loses count of what Ise goin' to 
 say, an ' den you is seen larfin ' to yo 'se 'f lek de debble. Yo '11 
 not be able al 'ays to talk outen my sight. I promise you dat. ' ' 
 
 "Abe, I did not mean to offend you; but you know that I 
 am not sickly and weak like I was seventy years ago. Maybe 
 you have forgotten that I am the head of the family, and that 
 I may talk as I see fit. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, sah, dat am true 'nuff; but de good Lawd am sholy 
 takin' count ob how de haid ob de house is 'havin' hese'l 
 
 39 
 
40 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 Dare am jes' one ting dat de Lawd seem negleckful 'bout, an' 
 dat am yo' soul. Me an' my 'oman has bin axin' de Lord 
 to sho' you de erer ob yo' way for mor'n fifty yeahs, but all 
 to no puppose. 
 
 "Let me axe you, what you goin' do, what you goin' say 
 when de great day done cum, an' de rocks an' de mountains 
 hab all fleed 'way, an' de sea shall be as a burnin' flame; when 
 de great Jehover hab done cum to jedg dis world; when de 
 'corden angul dun gits down to yo' name an' he dun read all 
 dem bad an ' awful words dat you dun say an ' dat he hab got 
 agin you? What you goin' say? Huh? What you goin' 
 say? It do seem to me sometimes dat yo' is suttenly foolin' 
 wid de Lawd. Duz you 'member Miss Miranda, what she say 
 when she jine our han 's togedder jes ' bef o ' de Lawd done took 
 her 'way ? I axe you, duz you 'member ? She say : 'Cum close 
 to me, I wants to tell you both what de Lawd has done fo' me, 
 kase I has al'ays trusted Him.' Duz you 'member dat she 
 say: 'Oh, Lawd, Thy will be done.' Den her haid drap an' 
 she dun gone to Hebben. Duz you 'member dat you is de 
 onny pusson on dis heah 'hole plantation dat has nebber gib 
 he soul to de Lawd ? You is a old man now, sah, an ' hab but 
 a few mo' days to linger on dis heah eart'. You is in good 
 mine an' body today, but you don't know what mout be de 
 matter tomorrow. Duz you not feel de lonel'ness ob bein' 
 outen de Lawd? Duz you not feel dat tim' hab done cum 
 fo' you to spoke to de Lawd an' axe Him to forgin you all yo' 
 many sins? Duz you not feel dat a old man is safer in de 
 Lawd's fole dan he is outen it? Duz you tink dat you will 
 be so peaceful an' happy as Miss Miranda when she died 
 when she smile an ' say : ' Lawd, Thy will be done ! ' ' 
 
 Abe observed that his friend's eyes were filled with tears 
 and that he was greatly affected by his reference to the past, 
 and asked him if he would not then and there throw himself 
 upon the Lawd. Overley seemed on the point of opening his 
 heart to God, when there was a knock at the door and Lucy 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 41 
 
 announced Jim Connors and Big Joe Wheatley. As both 
 men strode into the room Overley stood looking at them with 
 a tear-stained face, but unembarrassed. Abe observed the 
 interruption and noted the harm done by their untimely 
 arrival; but he bowed his head and murmured: 
 
 "Lawd, Thy will be done." 
 
 To their question as to what ailed him, Overley said quietly 
 and with great seriousness that Abe had almost persuaded 
 him to become a Christian. Big Joe Wheatley laughed and 
 observed that from his appearance Abe must have persuaded 
 him that he was an infant again. He also wanted to know 
 how long Abe had been doing missionary work among the 
 heathen. 
 
 Jim Connors took a more serious view of the matter and 
 wanted to know what Abe had said. Connors had had a very 
 pious Catholic mother and had never forgotten her last words, 
 although he had not followed her parting advice. When he 
 was told what Abe had said of the death-bed scene of Mrs. 
 Miranda Overley, he, too, was visibly affected. The words 
 brought back to his memory a similar experience. He sat 
 silent and thoughtful for a long time. Finally, he broke the 
 silence, which had become painful, with the remark: 
 
 ''Malcolm, I remember your mother's death as well as if it 
 were yesterday, instead of thirty years ago. Of course, I 
 remember my own mother's death better, although she has 
 been dead more than thirty odd years. But they were both 
 good Christian women, and both left us with the request on 
 their dying lips that we trust in the Lord. Has either of us 
 done so? I will say that I have not. What have you to 
 say for yourself?" 
 
 "Jim, at times I have considered this question of eternity 
 very seriously, but have never gotten to the point where I 
 could reconcile all the various obstacles that have arisen in 
 my mind. I do honestly wish that I had." 
 
 "Yes, yes, Malcolm, I have no doubt that it would have 
 
42 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 been better for us both had we followed our mothers' parting- 
 advice. We are old men now " 
 
 "Is it too late now?" exclaimed a voice from the hall, and 
 the good minister, Rev. Dr. Snell, came into the room. In 
 the seriousness of the discussion Lucy's announcement of 
 Dr. Snell 's arrival had not been noticed. He had heard the 
 latter part of what was said while being relieved of his hat 
 and outer coat. 
 
 "I do not feel that it is too late, nor do I feel that there 
 is any particular hurry about the matter. I just cannot get 
 my mind around to the point where I feel that it is necessary 
 for me to become a Christian," answered Overley. 
 
 * ' Doctor, that is also the way I feel concerning the matter, ' r 
 said Jim Connors. 
 
 "Oh, brothers, let me tell you what the Lord has done for 
 you. You are poor insects as compared with Him. He could 
 have crushed you out of this life long ago, but He has spared 
 you for some good purpose. You are old men now, well nigh 
 eighty years of age, though still hale and hearty. Have you 
 nothing to be thankful for?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, we have our fallen fortunes to be thankful for," 
 said Big Joe Wheatley. 
 
 "Oh, my brother, you always strike a bitter chord when 
 you speak of our fallen fortunes. Years back, when the 
 colored people were our bonded servants, we always had the 
 means of raising ready money; but now we have to content 
 ourselves with the crops and rents. Some years are good, but 
 most are bad. God in His wise providence may send the 
 good old days back again." 
 
 "God forbid!" said the three men in chorus. 
 
 "I was born on a plantation where there were over one 
 hundred slaves. I came into possession of all those men, 
 women and children. I fought to maintain our cause; but, 
 God forbid that those days of bondage may ever come again, ' ' 
 was the remark of Jim Connors. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 43 
 
 Big Joe Wheatley remarked: 
 
 "I, too, was born on a plantation peopled with dozens of 
 slaves. The old place belongs to me now. My former slaves 
 are now my tenants; some few have bought the places on 
 which they live. But I never want to see these people in 
 slavery again. No, I hope that our fair Southland will never 
 again be cursed with human slavery. ' ' 
 
 "But, Doctor, I do not understand how you can wish for 
 what you call the good old times. You lived North before 
 the war and saw nothing of the slave system, only when you 
 visited your old uncle here at Christmas time. How do you 
 know that those were good old times? 7 ' 
 
 ' ' I always heard uncle refer to them as the good old times, ' ' 
 was the Doctor's hesitating reply. 
 
 Old Abe had been seating the guests, a number of whom 
 had arrived. He had also been a close listener to the remarks 
 of the good minister. 
 
 Upon leaving the room he mumbled to himself: 
 
 "Dat preacher man he beate de debble. He a good man one 
 way. He sho' can 'zort de sinners to tu'n from dey crooked 
 ways ; but den he al 'ays droppin ' sumfin ' sly lek 'bout de good 
 slavery day; 'bout de war times; 'bout he wish dat slavery 
 cum agin'; 'bout de Yankee sojers, when he a Yankee hesef. 
 He onny cum heah to lib arter his uncle die an' lebe him dat 
 plantation. My Abe say he a sturdin' element.. Well, nobody 
 in dis heah house wants slavery to cum agin'. I thank God 
 fo' dat." 
 
 After Abe had gone, Overley called the attention of his 
 friends to what was done and said at the last meeting. 
 
 It was soon agreed that a set of resolutions should be 
 adopted and published as a warning to all persons engaged 
 in these midnight killings. 
 
 The resolutions were as follows: 
 
 ' ' WHEREAS, Murder, arson, rape, riots and outrages of vary- 
 ing degrees are of frequent occurrence in this county ; and 
 
44 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 " WHEREAS, It appears that the regularly constituted 
 authorities do not seem able nor willing to cope with the 
 perpetrators of these outrages; therefore, be it 
 
 "Resolved, That we, the following-named law-abiding citi- 
 zens, do pledge our support, our purses and our persons 
 individually and collectively, to the county authorities and 
 to EACH OTHER for the suppression of all kinds of lawlessness. 
 It is further 
 
 "Resolved, That these resolutions be published and posted, 
 in order that all persons may learn them and govern them- 
 selves accordingly. " 
 
 After much discussion it was finally agreed that a contest 
 should be made in an effort to wrest the office of sheriff from 
 the Lashum family. Little Joe Wheatley was named for the 
 office. After an old-fashioned Christmas dinner, enlivened 
 by wit and good-fellowship, the committee adjourned, subject 
 to the call of the newly elected chairman, James Connors. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 'HEN the two boys had started to College, as pre- 
 viously related, they were both shaken by conflicting 
 emotions. Neither had ever been from home before, 
 but both were determined to succeed. 
 
 1 'Abe, suppose I fail in the examination? How could I 
 look father in the face again?" said Malcolm. 
 
 ' ' You fail ! How could you possibly get that idea in your 
 head? You will never fail," said Abe. "Did you notice 
 those Lashum and Smaly boys at the station? What a nasty 
 look they gave us when we got on the train? Well, they are 
 far behind now, and we have nothing to fear from them. It 
 is awful to live among people whom you have to watch all 
 the time people that only let you alone because they fear 
 you. Those Smalys are surely going to do me some harm 
 some day. I feel it." 
 
 ' ' Abe, you are getting daffy. I have seen those people drive 
 in the ditch to let you pass in the center of the road. Why do 
 you look for trouble from them?" 
 
 "That is just it. You don't seem to understand the nature 
 of these ' crackers. ' When they show their teeth or obse- 
 quiously drive in the ditch to let you pass them on the road, 
 or offer to shake hands when you meet them, look out for 
 yourself; guard your haystacks and barns and keep off the 
 dark roads at night when alone. I have seen the result of 
 so many accidents (?) to haystacks and lone Negroes that my 
 heart grows sick, and it's getting worse." 
 
 "Well, Abe," said Malcolm, "do not take the gloomy side 
 of this affair to rest your judgment upon. There are other 
 things to talk about just now. What will we do when we 
 get to Oberlin ? I think it a good thing for us to see President 
 Finley as soon as we get there, and ask his advice as to the 
 courses we shall take in school, ' ' continued Malcolm. 
 
 45 
 
46 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "I think that is a very good idea, indeed. We certainly 
 should have some definite object in mind. We must explain 
 to President Finley what schooling we have had and what 
 we want to do in the future and let him advise us." 
 
 "Well, Abe, we will do that. Abe, there is another thing 
 about which I want to have an understanding with you. You 
 have already said that you would not agree to room with me 
 even if we could get a large room with two beds. I do not 
 blame you for that. We must have adjoining rooms, however. 
 What do you say to that?" 
 
 "That has been my desire from the first, but I did not so 
 express myself, because I am not Malcolm A. Overley, Jr. I 
 am simply Abe Overley, Jr., and have no right to make my 
 expenses at College one cent more than is absolutely neces- 
 sary." 
 
 "Well, that is just what I expected you to say. Father 
 told me, and he told you, that you are to have and fare the 
 same as I do. Now, Abe, you know my father and you know 
 me. You know that if you were not to have the same advan- 
 tages that I enjoy you would never have been sent from home. 
 You will wound my father's feelings very much if you ever 
 let him know that you entertained any such ideas. Now that 
 is settled, there is one other thing. I promise you that I 
 shall join no society, no team, without your knowledge, and 
 I think we should consult before either of us does anything 
 that may affect our relations or our futures. Do you agree 
 to that?" 
 
 "I do. I agree most willingly. I suppose you will come 
 to me if you see a girl you like, and say, ' Abe, I am sweet on 
 Miss Silks. Do you think I had better try to win her ? ' ' 
 
 "Well, what would you say to that?" asked Malcolm. 
 
 "I would ask you for twenty-four hours, and then I would 
 look up her family, and if she had no 'cracker' blood in her 
 I would say, 'Go in and win her.' " 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 47 
 
 The next day but one after their arrival they were able to 
 get a few minutes with the good President, Dr. Finley. After 
 they had stated who they were and whence they came and 
 the circumstances under which they came to College to the 
 President, he, after some thought, dismissed them with a 
 request that they come to him again. 
 
 The boys' story had greatly impressed Dr. Finley, and he 
 was desirous of consulting his friend, George Billings Done- 
 well. As Dr. Finley and Mr. Done well sat next evening in 
 the Doctor's library their conversation turned to the College 
 and new students. 
 
 "Donewell," said the Doctor, "I have two students here 
 this year whom I shall watch with a great deal of interest. 
 They came here together under most peculiar circumstances. 
 First, let me describe them. Both are about six feet tall ; one 
 is very white, with curly chestnut brown hair, blue eyes, ruddy 
 complexion ; he does not look nor act like a Southern-born boy. 
 The other is as black as the first boy is white; six feet, good 
 features, with curly black hair of a peculiar texture, a perfect 
 specimen of physical manhood. They appear to enjoy each 
 other's confidence to an unusual degree. They gave me their 
 history and how they came to be here. It appears that the 
 white boy's father is of an old family of Alabama as old as 
 the State itself. And the Negro comes from a slave family 
 that has served the white boy's people for generations. It 
 appears, further, that the respective fathers are close friends, 
 and the white father, though reduced in circumstances, with 
 a heavy mortgage hanging upon his home, is sending his black 
 friend's boy here to College with instructions to me that I 
 look after them both and that they are to fare alike. I tell 
 you, Donewell, these Southern people are a puzzle to me." 
 
 ''Doctor, you do not know them. You know that I have 
 lived and traveled in every State in the South, both before 
 and since the war. I have had an opportunity to study them 
 psychologically and commercially. There are two separate 
 
48 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 and distinct classes of white people in those States, as separate 
 and distinct as if they were not Caucasians. I refer to the 
 old blue blood families and the people who are commonly 
 designated as 'crackers.' The old blue bloods these days are 
 reduced financially, but their blood remains pure. They 
 would not consent to a daughter or a son marrying a 
 'cracker' any more than they would consent to a marriage 
 with a Negro. This 'cracker' element was, before the war, 
 the overseer class ; now they are the policemen and street car 
 people, and men working along those lines. They are non- 
 progressive, always have been and apparently always will be. 
 There are rare exceptions, however, where you will find one 
 of this class possessed of any amount of brains brains in the 
 broad sense of the word. Men of this class prefer Negro 
 women to their own, and they are entitled to their share of 
 responsibility for the very large number of mulattoes that are 
 found in the Southern States. In traveling through Maryland 
 I heard, in fact, I saw all the parties to the following story: 
 A white man by the name of Scotch lived with an old black 
 woman who bore him several children, two girls among them, 
 the eldest of whom was a large, well-developed country girl, 
 about twenty years of age when I first saw her. This father 
 persuaded his daughter to come to him in a cabin where he 
 lived. The girl was gone from home for two days and nights. 
 The cabin, the girl, the man, all bore evidence of the two days ' 
 struggle. This is an extreme case, but it will give some idea 
 of the nature of this race of white men who live south of us, 
 and who are fast coming amongst us, bringing their uncouth 
 and semicivilized manners and customs. The other class, while 
 they will risk life and fortune for a handsome mulatto or 
 octoroon, will also educate their offspring." 
 
 "Yes, but this does not appear to be a case of that kind. 
 This boy is a full-blooded Negro. There must be some tie that 
 binds these people other than that referred to by you. I 
 shall watch this case with great interest. They have asked 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 49 
 
 my advice, which I shall gladly give them. Do you remember 
 having met a man by the name of Lashum Nicholas Lashum 
 in A County, Alabama ?" 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes ! I met him, or, rather, his family, ten or twelve 
 years ago. One of the family was sheriff of the county, and 
 I think that one of this family has been sheriff of that county 
 ever since the war. It is a very large family and one of 
 
 whom some of the citizens of A County are not very 
 
 proud. The elder Lashum was notorious in the State during 
 the war. He made his money in some questionable way during 
 that period. I met them in the course of business while in 
 that county. I also met some very fine old Bourbons in that 
 part of the State. 
 
 11 These young men to whom I refer both came from that 
 county. Overley is the name," said Dr. Finley. 
 
 "Why, I remember the Overley plantation very well. I 
 spent two days upon it. I was greatly impressed with the 
 cordial welcome extended to me by the Overleys. I remember 
 the perfect friendship that seemed to exist between Mr. 
 Overley and his former slave, Abe, than whom a more perfect 
 specimen of physical manhood I never saw. The two sons 
 were like their respective fathers, and each seemed to enjoy 
 the complete confidence of the other. I was struck by the 
 simplicity and beauty of the lives of the people on that planta- 
 tion. There appeared to be only one thing lacking funds. 
 I sold the Lashums a large bill of goods, but Overley told me 
 frankly that he had no money and could not purchase any- 
 thing at that time. I offered to send him what he wanted and 
 take his word for the money, explaining to him that I owned 
 the plant and no one would ever push him for payments. 
 After a consultation with his black man, Abe, he refused my 
 offer. I will always remember that home." 
 
 "You will have an opportunity to study that family from 
 another point of view. These boys are no doubt the little 
 fellows whom you saw while at their home." 
 
50 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ''When you see them again, Doctor, I would like to be 
 present. I want to note what changes ten years have made 
 in them/' 
 
 Mr. George Billings Donewell was one of those rare char- 
 acters sometimes found in this selfish world, who have been 
 successful, and who delight in helping others. He advanced 
 a peculiar "code of ethics," as he termed it, based wholly on 
 the Golden Rule, "Do unto others as you would have them 
 do to you." His theory was that all men are born free and 
 equal; but as God, in His wise providence, endows some men 
 in a greater degree than others, that those persons so endowed 
 hold their endowments in trust for their weaker brothers. He 
 believed that Dr. Finley, having been endowed with great 
 mental faculties and the power to comprehend and digest 
 great educational problems, was in duty bound to disseminate 
 his knowledge and to hold it in trust for all mankind. So 
 also with the man endowed with the faculty for accumulating 
 wealth. He believed that he was required to use that wealth 
 for the benefit of mankind. Mr. Donewell argued and lived 
 up to this theory: 
 
 First, that a man's duty is to God, who made him. 
 
 Second, that a man's duty is to the family that God has 
 given him. 
 
 Third, that a man 's duty is to his distressed worthy brother. 
 Should a man be successful in this world, financially, his first 
 duty is to provide for his family ; but all over and above their 
 wants and needs he holds in trust for mankind. 
 
 Many are the young men who have passed through Oberlin 
 College and felt the aid of a helping hand, but never discov- 
 ered whence this help came, so careful were Dr. Finley and 
 Mr. Donewell that their good offices should not be heralded. 
 
 Two days after their first conference with the President, 
 Dr. Finley sent for our Alabama friends and had a long talk 
 with them, at which Mr. Donewell was present. The Doctor 
 advised them as to the courses he thought proper for them to 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 51 
 
 pursue in order to finish their respective educations. The 
 boys departed highly elated over the friendships they had 
 formed. Dr. Finley and Mr. Donewell both had invited them 
 to visit their homes whenever they found it convenient. 
 
 ''Abe/' said Malcolm, while on the way back to their 
 rooms, "who is Mr. Donewell? He says that he remembers 
 us. He certainly has been on the old place, or how could he 
 locate the corn crib, the spring house or the big cherry tree 
 on the hill. Do you remember him ? ' ' 
 
 "I cannot say that I do, but I shall always remember him 
 now. He appears to be a very fine old man. When shall we 
 visit him at his home?" 
 
 "Whenever you say, Abe." 
 
 ' ' Well, tomorrow is Saturday ; let us join the boys who are 
 going to Black River to fish. ' ' 
 
 "I will be glad to do that," said Malcolm, "but we must 
 be careful. I have heard that river spoken of as being very 
 dangerous. ' ' 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 EN THE early morning following the two boys, together 
 with several other young men, set out for the river. 
 They had gone but half the distance when they were 
 overtaken by a 'bus load of young people, boys and girls, 
 bound for an outing. As the 'bus passed, Malcolm noticed 
 several female classmates whose names he had not yet learned. 
 
 ' ' Who is the young lady with the dark hair and eyes ? The 
 one on the end of the seat?" asked Malcolm of young Forbes, 
 a resident of Oberlin. 
 
 "Why, that is Miss Donewell. She lives on Main Street. 
 Her father is worth a million, but you would not think he 
 had doughnuts if you saw him on the street. The other girls 
 next to her are New Yorkers sisters Chiswells father is a 
 wholesale druggist. They will graduate this year, I believe. 
 I will take you up to see them tomorrow if you desire to be 
 presented. ' ' 
 
 "Certainly, I will only be too glad to avail myself of the 
 opportunity. But what about my chum, Abe? Will you be 
 as glad to present him as you are to present me?" asked 
 Malcolm. 
 
 "Why, of course I will. He is black enough, but appears 
 to be a gentleman." 
 
 ' * What do you think the young ladies will say ? ' ' questioned 
 Malcolm. 
 
 "You do not seem to realize one thing," answered Forbes. 
 "I have lived here all my life and I know the sentiment of 
 this College. There is a fraternal feeling that prevails here. 
 All students are treated alike. These young ladies will 
 receive him very cordially, take my word for it." 
 
 The young men soon arrived at the river. Some busied 
 themselves digging grubworms; others prepared a camp; the 
 others strolled about the banks looking for a good place to 
 cast the lines. 
 
 52 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 53 
 
 Malcolm and Forbes were amongst those who went up the 
 stream. Just as they turned a bend in the river a short dis- 
 tance from the camp, Abe, who had remained behind, heard 
 Malcolm's voice ring out clear and sharp: "Stop that! Stop 
 that! You are upsetting the boat!" 
 
 Abe knew from the ring in Malcolm's voice that something 
 unusual was happening, and he hastened to the bend in the 
 river, as did some of the others, to see what the trouble was. 
 
 They observed a boat containing five persons three girls 
 and two young men coming down the stream. One of the 
 men stood in the middle of the boat, rocking it violently. The 
 girl who was sitting in the bow of the boat lost her balance and 
 was about to slip overboard. This young man, whose name was 
 Rattles, heard Malcolm's warning; but, in defiance, gave the 
 boat one more violent tilt, which caused it to careen, and when 
 it righted again Miss Donewell fell overboard, dropping head- 
 first into the water. As the boat lost her weight, Mr. Rattles 's 
 position caused it to careen violently to the other side, and he 
 was thrown into the water also. When each came to the sur- 
 face the current had carried the boat out of their reach. Mr. 
 Rattles grasped Miss Donewell about the shoulders and held 
 her head under the water white trying to k&ep his own above. 
 Malcolm and Forbes both spr-ang Into. the water and were soon 
 at the girl's side, but could not loosen Ratfcl*sr's 1 old upon her. 
 She was apparently being, exhausted by De)ng kept under the 
 water so long. Abe saw the trouble from the shore, and, spring- 
 ing into the water, was soon within reach of them. Without a 
 moment's hesitation he dealt Rattles a blow between the eyes 
 which dazed him. Abe then pushed Rattles 's head under the 
 water, which caused him to loosen his hold on the girl and to 
 grasp Abe. Malcolm and Forbes soon got the young lady to 
 the river's bank, which was not more than twenty yards 
 distant. But Abe came near losing his life. Rattles suc- 
 ceeded in getting a hold on him which Abe could not break. 
 Abe's only recourse was to keep under the water and swim 
 
54 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 toward the bank, which was a trying thing to do with a 
 struggling man hanging to him. A person possessed of less 
 strength and coolness would not have succeeded. When he 
 reached the bank there were willing hands to help him with 
 his burden. Rattles, in his terror, could not be induced for 
 some time to loosen his hold on Abe's arm, not realizing that 
 he was on " terra firma" and away from all danger. The 
 young man in the boat was unable to render any assistance 
 owing to the fact that one oar had fallen overboard. He tried 
 manfully, however, to scull the boat close enough to Abe to 
 enable him to grasp the side, but did not succeed. Miss Done- 
 well was resuscitated by the young ladies, under Malcolm's 
 instructions, and was soon ready to return to the 'bus. The 
 girls at first wanted to walk back, but Malcolm assured them 
 that he and his friend, Abe, could manage the boat and get 
 them to the 'bus much quicker. 
 
 Miss Donewell smiled and said: 
 
 ' * You and Mr. Forbes have just pulled me out of the water. 
 I can trust you both to get me back to the 'bus. ' ' 
 
 "We did not do it all ourselves, Miss Donewell," answered 
 Forbes. "If Mr. Overley, there," pointing to Abe, "had not 
 come to our rescue when he did. I am afraid four of us, 
 including Mr. Rattles, would be at the bottom of that river 
 now. ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Rattles, what a pity!" said one of the New York 
 girls. He lay on the ground, limp and motionless, staring at 
 the water as if he were afraid that a wave would come and 
 engulf him and carry him back beneath its surface. 
 
 When it became known at the College that Rattles had 
 nearly caused Miss Donewell to lose her life, and that Abe 
 had blackened Rattles 's eyes in helping to rescue her, there 
 were many and various comments on the occurrence. Most 
 of the boys were inclined to praise Abe for his bravery. But 
 Lashum and Bloxum, true to their natures, sought to stir up 
 strife. They sought out Rattles with a view to poisoning his 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 55 
 
 mind against Abe, Malcolm and Forbes. Battles was a West- 
 ern boy of good family, true-hearted, but a little faulty in 
 judgment at times. 
 
 "Say, Mr. Battles," began Buck, "I hear that you were 
 given a wrong turn on Black River last Saturday. That 
 'nigger,' Abe Overley, is bigger than you are or he would 
 never have dared to do what he did." 
 
 "No," said Bloxum, "if I were you I would not stand for 
 such treatment at the hands of a 'nigger.' He is running 
 about now crowing and saying how he smashed you between 
 the eyes. That fellow he came here with makes a fool of 
 him. The idea, taking a 'nigger' to call on a white woman!" 
 
 "Why, Mr. Rattles," again urged Buck, "are you going to 
 stand for that? Look at your face! Just think of it! A 
 'nigger' hit you! Go to the Dean and complain. We will go 
 with you and help you out. This 'nigger' is too free with his 
 fists." Buck evidently remembered his own encounter with 
 Abe. 
 
 "Rattles, come and go to the Dean," said Bloxum; "Buck 
 and myself heard him say what he had done and what he 
 expected to do before long." 
 
 "What did he say that he had done?" asked Rattles. 
 
 "Why, that you are the biggest cur he had ever met, and 
 all he wanted was just one chance at Dr. Finley's son and 
 he would be satisfied." 
 
 "Well, that seems strange to me. Abe refused to go with 
 the young ladies that day ; but insisted on staying with me. 
 
 "He not only stayed with me, but reduced the swelling in 
 my face, smoothed the matter over with the Faculty, and 
 went with me to Mr. Donewell's home when I offered my 
 apologies. In fact, he has acted like a man in the whole 
 affair. He is my friend. He has just left my room. Maybe 
 you gentlemen would like to have me call him? He is with 
 Forbes and two or three others across the hall. 
 
56 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "We don't want him. We don't associate with 'niggers/ " 
 said Buck. 
 
 Battles surprised them both by springing to his feet and 
 opening the door, saying : 
 
 "Go! Go, and go quick! Who sent for you? Who asked 
 for your advice? Who asked for your aid? You are both 
 liars. I do not believe one word you have told me. I say 
 this man is my friend. And you dare to come to me with 
 your lies about him. I never want to see your faces in my 
 room again." 
 
 The three young men were now in the hallway. Battles, in 
 his anger, had elevated his voice above the others, and 
 attracted the attention of several of the young men who were 
 in the adjoining rooms, among them being Abe, Malcolm and 
 Forbes. 
 
 "What is the matter with Battles?" asked Forbes. 
 
 "He has his Western dander up. He is out on the prairie 
 now, not out on the water," said Hawkins, Battles 's chum. 
 "Oh, he's got it in him. Say, Battles, old boy, what is the 
 matter?" asked Hawkins. 
 
 "These fellows have taken it upon themselves to come to 
 my room to insult my friends," said Battles. "What do 
 you think of them?" 
 
 ' ' Come in my room, fellows, ' ' said one of the young men ; 
 "we are not permitted to stand in the hallways. Do not 
 leave, gentlemen," he added, noting that Buck and Bloxum 
 were moving away; "you are welcome, and, further, it will 
 be necessary for you to explain the nature of this insult of 
 which Battles complains." 
 
 All the boys, about fifteen in number, crowded into the 
 room, Buck and Bloxum among the number, though they were 
 not very willing to enter. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Hawkins, "an unusual thing has hap- 
 pened. One gentleman has passed the lie to two others. And, 
 further, has ordered those gentlemen never to put their faces 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 57 
 
 in his room again. According to the 'Unwritten Law' of this 
 College, the offending party must apologize or fight. It is 
 also the Law, that a committee hear the case and pass upon it. 
 Now, Mr. Buck Lashum, you are the insulted party; what 
 complaint have you to make?" 
 
 "I have nothing to say, nor have I any complaint to make," 
 was Buck's answer. 
 
 "Mr. Squealer Bloxum, you are also one of the insulted 
 parties. What complaint have you to make?" 
 
 "I think that Mr. Rattles was a little excited when he used 
 the word 'liar' and that he did not mean " 
 
 ' * That is not for you to say, ' ' interrupted Hawkins. "It is 
 no part of your business to make apologies for Mr. Rattles. 
 The lie has been passed. The question is, have we two liars 
 amongst us, or have we two men amongst us who, knowing 
 they are not liars, do not possess the manhood to resent the 
 insult ? Now, what have you both to say ? I will say further 
 that you gentlemen must either obtain an apology from Mr. 
 Rattles, or fight, or be branded as liars and cowards; that is 
 the Law." 
 
 Buck and Bloxum both remained silent, not knowing what 
 to say. 
 
 "What is the matter, Lashum?" asked a Tennessee boy. 
 "Are you afraid to talk? Do you forget that you come from 
 the South, where all men are free, and where you only find 
 true manhood?" 
 
 "Yes, these fellows are a sample of your Southern man- 
 hood," spoke up a long Yankee boy. "I venture they have 
 lied about somebody, and now they are afraid to own it. Just 
 to think of it, a true Southern gentleman afraid of the conse- 
 quences of his acts ! ' ' 
 
 This bit of sarcasm was followed by a peal of laughter. 
 
 "Gentlemen, let us have no cross-firing," said Hawkins, 
 adding: "Mr. Rattles, you have violated the 'Unwritten Law' 
 
58 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 of this College inasmuch as you have called fellow students 
 liars. 
 
 "What have you to say for yourself?" 
 
 "I will simply say that these fellows " 
 
 "Gentlemen," interrupted Hawkins. 
 
 "Well, students," said Rattles. 
 
 "No, gentlemen," insisted Hawkins. 
 
 ' ' Students came to my room, ' ' continued Battles, ' ' and lied 
 to me about my friend, whose name I may not mention. It is 
 enough to say that he is my friend, and that no gentleman of 
 honor will hear his friends slandered behind their backs. In 
 this case I know they lied. I so expressed myself, and I 
 reiterate what I have said before. They are contemptible 
 liars." 
 
 "My God! Lashum, are you a Southern man? Have you 
 any blood in your veins? Will you allow your name to be 
 handed down in this College as a contemptible liar?" again 
 urged the Tennessee boy. 
 
 "Oh, this is not the first lie he has told, nor will it be the 
 last while at this school," said Battles." 
 
 "Well, fellows, these gentlemen, by their silence, acknowl- 
 edge that what Mr. Battles says is true. There can be but 
 one conclusion for you to reach, which is that they have lied 
 on somebody. Who it is does not matter. What will be your 
 decision ? ' ' 
 
 "That hereafter all honorable students refuse to believe 
 anything they have to say unless corroborated by a third 
 person," spoke up the long Yankee boy. 
 
 This decision was mild in form, but severe in operation. No 
 matter what they said, even that the weather was cold, would 
 be met by the retort, "Whom have you to vouch for that 
 statement ? ' ' 
 
 After the boys had separated, Buck said to Bloxum: 
 
 "That * nigger' always gets the best of us. We will fix 
 him yet." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 59 
 
 "Buck, let's go to Elmyra tonight and have some fun/' said 
 Bloxum. 
 
 1 ' I don 't care. We can stay until Sunday night, ' ' answered 
 Buck. 
 
 Elmyra is a town about eight miles from Oberlin, in another 
 county, where the students of loose habits go for relaxation. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FTER the train bearing Malcolm and Abe had left 
 the station and they were off for Oberlin College, 
 Buck and the Smaly boys watched until it disap- 
 peared around the curve at Coon's Tree. 
 
 "Well, that's the limit," said Buck; " 'niggers' going off 
 to College ! Did you hear to what College they were going ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, to the Oberling School, or some sich place," said one 
 of the Smalys. 
 
 "Is that so? Why, I am going to that school. Who told 
 you that ? I '11 go home and tell pappy and he will see about 
 'niggers' going to school with his son. I bet he won't stay 
 there long. Yo'll see," said Buck, as he mounted his horse 
 and left in great haste. 
 
 When he reached home he found his father sitting on the 
 fence by the hog sty the old man not having been able to 
 outgrow his early habits together with several kindred 
 spirits, discussing the resolutions published by the citizens who 
 had met at the home of Malcolm A. Overley, Sr. 
 
 "I say that them people they think that they is goin' to 
 run things to suit theyselves. But as sure as my name be 
 Nick Lashum they is mistook. Ole Mai Overley, he's at the 
 bottom of this heah whole d business. He's a mighty white 
 man, he is. Sendin' 'niggers' off to College! D if I don't 
 fix him yeah a 'ter nex '. Yo '11 see ! I '11 ' ' 
 
 Just at that moment Buck dashed into the barnyard, his 
 horse almost ready to drop from hard riding. 
 
 "What ails yer, boy? What yer ridin' that critter like 
 that fer?" 
 
 " 'Nuff ails me. Malcolm Overley has gone to Oberling 
 College with that 'nigger' Abe. Do you think I want to go 
 to school with 'niggers'?" yelled Buck. 
 
 60 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 61 
 
 "Yes jis' knowed that? Why, I mistook yer haid fer a 
 place fer brains. Yer lettle sister Arabella, she told me that 
 two weeks ago. What yer think I kin do 'bout it now? Go 
 on to College and see what they do with them 'niggers,' then 
 let me know, and I'll settle the whole matter then. That's 
 what yer do." 
 
 "Yes, pappy, but that 'nigger' is at the same school, 
 and I " 
 
 "How long yer been runnin' this heah place? Yer better 
 a darn sight do as yer is tole an' not stop to augrify wid yer 
 betters. I know mor'n a minit than yo'll git outen books in 
 a lifetime. Yer rub thet air critter out and see that she don 't 
 git stiff 'morrow mornin'. I won't have my critters worked 
 that way. 'Pears to me thet I have sed thet off en 'miff," said 
 the father with warmth. 
 
 Mr. Nick Lashum prided himself on the fact that he was 
 the boss. There was but one person on his place over whom 
 he had no control, and that was an old Negro woman, of 
 uncertain age, the mother of several doubtful looking chil- 
 dren of variegated colors, who resembled the Lashum family. 
 This old woman claimed that she had known Nick Lashum 
 since ' ' long 'fore de wah ' ' and that he was bound to take care 
 of her until she died. All of which appears to be true, from 
 the fact that she lived in a cabin within a stone's throw of 
 Nick's wife and children, without doing labor of any kind, and 
 having free access to everything on the place. This old 
 woman, who was known in war times, when she traveled about 
 the State with Nick Lashum, as Black Sue, and who appeared 
 to know a great deal of Nick's innermost affairs, was a char- 
 acter within herself. No person on the place appeared to 
 know exactly where she came from nor on whose place she 
 lived before the war. Suffice it to say, when Nick came into 
 possession of his present home, she came with her six lean, yel- 
 low children and took the cabin in which we find her, as her 
 
62 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 share of Nick's assets, and lived there with her growing 
 family. We shall see something of her later. 
 
 Buck, not having gained his point, and only succeeding in 
 arousing the wrath of his parent, took the mare to the stable 
 yard and proceeded to obey his father's injunction to rub 
 her out. 
 
 After Buck's departure, Nick Lashum and his cronies 
 resumed their talk. 
 
 "Why, in course, Ole Mai is the bottom of the whole darn 
 thing," said Si Weedles, a citizen of large family and small 
 resources, whose business was cross-road politics and juryman ; 
 "and, furdermore, I hear that little Joe Wheatley is to run 
 'gin Casper Lashum for sheriff." 
 
 "The h yer say, Si," said Nick; "who toP yer so?" 
 
 "Wai, I dunno 'zackly who it war that toP me, but I hear'n 
 hit today. That's what I earned heah fer to talk this thing 
 over. I toP them darn hothead Smalys and Wardemans to 
 let them 'niggers' alone; thet thet hoss was BurrelPs, and sich 
 doin's war goin' to make trouble. Now this is only the begin- 
 nin'. Yo'll see," said Weedles. 
 
 "So, that's what the matter wid them 'big bugs,' is hit? 
 Takin' up fer 'niggers,' hey? Leetle Joe Wheatley? Him's 
 the one they expects to beat Gas fer sheriff ? Wai, I mus ' say 
 them people is smart. That darn boy's suttenly well thought 
 on in this heah county. Doggon, if Gas an' his pals ain't got 
 to git out an' hustle," said Nick. 
 
 "Yes, time fer 'lection on'y nex' mont', and we jus' knowed 
 who is goin' to run 'gin him," said Weedles. "I, fer one, is 
 goin' to git my coat off an' go to woric. All we is got to say 
 is, that they is takin' up fer 'niggers' an' we will beat 'em 
 shoV 
 
 "Si, yer tell all the boys to meet heah Sunday arter nex' on 
 matters of great 'portance," said Nick, as the friends sepa- 
 rated. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 63 
 
 On the Sunday afternoon, long before the appointed time, 
 the good citizens of the county began to gather at the home of 
 Nick Lashum. The first to arrive was Si Weedles, clad in his 
 best, which consisted of a large hat, a large pair of boots, a 
 large pair of pants, which were suspiciously like a pair that 
 Sheriff Lashum used to pride himself upon owning, a hickory 
 shirt and a large corn-cob pipe. Attired in this outfit, the 
 Alabama statesman appeared early, because his self-imposed 
 duties, as handy man, ex-oificio, at all political meetings, were 
 well understood by himself. Soon the big barn loft, an ideal 
 place for an Alabama political council, was well filled. There 
 were great men galore judges and former judges, clerks of 
 courts and former clerks of courts, sheriffs and former 
 sheriffs, justices of the peace and former justices of the peace, 
 road commissioners, school commissioners, lawyers, doctors, 
 school teachers and plain country gentlemen all come to see 
 the lights of the Alabama Democracy flash, flutter, glimmer, 
 sputter and finally become extinguished. 
 
 The hour soon arrived for business to be proceeded with. 
 Without the formality of the election of a chairman, Nick 
 Lashum, by virtue of the meeting being held 'neath his vine 
 and fig tree, ' and by virtue also of his acknowledged superior 
 ability, took upon himself the right to conduct the meeting. 
 He said: "Gents, we is hyre on a mos' momentous occasion. 
 Dese hyre 'big bugs' is not satis' by the way things is bein' 
 run in this hyre county. If I war not satis' I would move 
 outen the county. I don't give a doggon fer any of them. 
 They is stuck up and has been always." 
 
 "Right! Right!" came from the crowd. 
 
 "Now, they is goin 'to try to beat Gas Lashum fer sheriff. 
 And who is they goin' to run agin' him? Leetle Joe Wheat- 
 ley. Is he one of us ? " 
 
 "No! No!" responded the hearers. 
 
 "Wai, we is got to git t'gether an' beat the whole darn 
 bunch. I tell yer, fellers, that if them people ever gits us onct 
 
64 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 yer will be jus' lek yer war 'fore de war. I knows what I'se 
 talkin ' 'bout. I war hyre on the spot at that there time. You 
 boys that has been to school off en yer po' pappy 's labor, may 
 snikker an' grin kase yer ain't got no more sense. Now, gents, 
 this whole thing is up to yo'll." 
 
 After a few moments' silence, a young man by the name 
 of Goodrich called out: 
 
 "Mr. Chairman, I move that we do now proceed to the 
 election of officers." Silence. "I therefore place in nomina- 
 tion for chairman the Honorable Judge 
 
 "No yer don't do no sich a darn thing," said Nick; "I'se 
 the cheerman of this hyre meetin', an' Nickolas Lashum, 
 Junior, is the s'c'tay. Ain't that right, fellers?" 
 
 "Sho' yer is," spoke up Si Weedles; "an' anybody thet 
 don 't lek them officers, we puts out. We don 't 'pose ter have 
 this hyre meetin' 'sturbed by nobody." 
 
 Mr. Goodrich relapsed into a discreet silence, but remarked 
 to his companion, "That he'd be d if he would vote for such 
 people." The chairman announced that the coming election 
 was for Sheriff, County Judge, and one Road and School 
 Commissioner each. Whom would they nominate to run for 
 these offices? The all-important matter to Nick and his 
 friends was the office of Sheriff. To bring about Casper's 
 nomination was their determination. 
 
 Si Weedles was on his feet at once. 
 
 1 * Mr. Cheerman : I rases to my feet f er the puppus of put- 
 tin' in nomination, fer Sheriff, that battled-scarred hero, that 
 patriotic citizen an' farmer, that Alabamy gent an' financier, 
 that stock raiser an' father, that man of the world an' the 
 Church, him no other than the man that carried the blood- 
 stained banner of Alabama 'mocracy down to victory, him 
 no other than the man that has always kept 'nuff 'niggers' in 
 the chain gang to woric the roads so no white men don't have 
 no woric to do on the roads, him no other than the one that 
 knows how to keep ' niggers ' in they places, him no other than 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 65 
 
 the man thet ain't heppen' no 'niggers' 'gin white men, him 
 no other than the wise an' provident Casper Lahsum." 
 
 After this flash of eloquence, the yell, so well known, 
 peculiar to the savages of the West and the " crackers" of 
 the South, was given with such good will that the barn seemed 
 to vibrate with its volume. Not a voice raised in opposition 
 to this nomination. Nick declared, as soon as he could be 
 heard, that the unanimous "voice" of the caucus was Casper 
 Lashum. The hold-over officers, Judge and Commissioners, 
 were renominated. Nick then adjourned the meeting sine die. 
 Just twenty-three minutes had elapsed since the meeting was 
 called to order. The County Bulletin, the official organ of the 
 county, had the following announcement : 
 
 "At a convention, attended by hundreds of delegates (self- 
 appointed) from all parts of the county, held in the large hall 
 on Mr. Nick Lashum 's place, the following persons were named 
 as candidates for the offices of Sheriff, Judge, Road and School 
 Commissioners : 
 
 Casper Lashum, Sheriff. 
 
 Josephus Wiggles, Judge. 
 
 William Runeasy, Road Commissioner. 
 
 Jackson Contention, School Commissioner." 
 
 Young Goodrich and his friends engaged in a very warm 
 discussion as they drove away from the Lashum place, declar- 
 ing they would do all in their power to defeat Casper Lashum 
 for Sheriff. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 YOUNG GOODRICH and his friends, true to their deter- 
 mination, set about to defeat Casper Lashum for 
 Sheriff. Knowing well the strength of the Lashum 
 following, they were compelled to resort to strategy. First, 
 they made a canvass of all the better class of people in the 
 county and obtained their promises to vote for Little Joe 
 Wheatley when the time came; but in the canvass, up to the 
 last day, they were to appear to be staunch followers of the 
 Lashums. Judge Wiggles and his supporters, who had long 
 wished for an opportunity to throw off the Lashum yoke, also 
 promised to come out at the proper time and advocate the 
 election of Wheatley. So well was this game of politics 
 played, so complete was Goodrich 's organization, that the 
 Lashums did not suspect that the enthusiasm on the part of 
 the "big bugs" meant defeat for their kinsman. 
 
 The evening before the election the County Bulletin came 
 out with a burning editorial denunciatory of the Lashum 
 regime, denouncing their methods and charging that for 
 years they had been corrupt in office. So sudden and com- 
 plete was the attack, coming from so many unlooked-for 
 sources, that Lashum and his followers were at a loss to know 
 how to combat the new issue. Nick Lashum, Casper Lashum. 
 Si Weedles and a few others, among them the Smalys and 
 Wardemans, met at Nick Lashum 's, down by the pig sty, 
 Nick's favorite corner, and engaged in a lively discussion. 
 The Smalys were in favor of going immediately to the office 
 of the County Bulletin, get the "nigger" who carried the 
 copies of the paper about the county to the subscribers and 
 hang him, as he was responsible for the paper being in the 
 hands of all the white people in the county who could read. 
 After a very lengthy argument, it was finally decided that, 
 should the Lashums lose, the "nigger," the driver of the 
 
 66 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 67 
 
 wagon owned by the publishers of the County Bulletin, should 
 be taught a lesson should be taught not to distribute papers 
 unfavorable to Lashum and his followers. The ownership of 
 the paper, of the horse and wagon and of the paper route, 
 never entered into their thoughts. The ' ' nigger ' ' was respon- 
 sible, wholly and entirely. They vowed to run him out of 
 the county. 
 
 When the votes were counted the following day it was found 
 that Casper Lashum had been defeated by 54 votes, while his 
 associates on the ticket had been elected without a dissenting 
 vote. 
 
 Si Weedles reported that great fraud had been practiced, 
 inasmuch as a report had been put in circulation, by Good- 
 rich, that the Lashums were trying to steal the County Court 
 House and that Nick Lashum had a deed already drawn which 
 he would put on file as soon as his brother was re-elected all 
 of which the "crackers" believed and acted upon. 
 
 Little Joe Wheatley's election to the office of Sheriff gave 
 the Negroes great satisfaction. It forecasted, for them, a pos- 
 sible chance of a "square deal." 
 
 They were not disappointed. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 S WE turn our attention again to the boys at Oberlin 
 we find the school year has come to a close. Buck 
 and Bloxum barely passed their examinations, and 
 were severely lectured by the Dean, though they were per- 
 mitted to go on with their classes. Malcolm and Abe made 
 good marks and were congratulated by the Dean. Each bore 
 a letter from the Dean to his father commending him and 
 urging his return the next school year. Their homecoming 
 was made a time for rejoicing. Each person on the place 
 vied with the other in his endeavor to make them welcome. 
 The parents of the two boys were greatly elated over the record 
 made by their respective sons. The vacation time passed very 
 quickly, and the boys could hardly realize it was over when 
 told to get ready to return to school. Malcolm and Miss 
 Donewell had become great friends, and he had promised to 
 return a few days before the school term began in order that 
 he might spend some time with her in pleasure-seeking. 
 
 68 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 'HEN the time for homegoing drew near Buck Lashum 
 extended invitations to several young men whose 
 acquaintance he had made while at the College to be 
 his guests for a week at his father's plantation. Bloxum was 
 the first to accept; but his railroad tickets were not forth- 
 coming and they were stumbling blocks which he set about 
 to remove. He knew that his parents could not spare the 
 money to cover the expense of this trip, nor would they permit 
 him to go South with Buck if they had to make a further 
 sacrifice than they were making in sending him to College. 
 He had, however, another reason for wanting to go. He was 
 aware that he would have to work if he went home for the 
 summer vacation, and he therefore determined that Buck 
 should bear this expense for the trip, and also that he would 
 stay the whole vacation through. Buck and Bloxum had 
 formed the habit of going to Elmyra to spend Saturday night 
 and Sunday in "recreation." On a return trip, after one of 
 these carousals, when Buck was feeling exceptionally good, 
 Bloxum opened the subject by remarking: 
 
 "Buck, I am compelled to ask you to withdraw your invi- 
 tation to me to take that trip down to your plantation." 
 
 ' t No yer don 't. What 's the matter with yer ? Haven 't yer 
 passed yer word that yer would come? Haven't yer learned 
 yet that a gentleman never goes back on his words? Didn't 
 I write pappy that yer particular was coming? Now, what 
 yer goin' to back out fer?" 
 
 This was just the position Bloxum wanted Buck to take. 
 
 ' ' Of course, I know all these things ; that is just the reason 
 I am telling you now. I am so sorry. I wanted, above all 
 things, to meet your sister Clemmie. I know she must bo a 
 stunning girl and little Arabella Oh, well; I guess I must 
 forego all these pleasures." 
 
 69 
 
70 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 All this was said solemnly, with a view of impressing Buck. 
 
 "Why, Bloxum, what is the matter with yer? Hope 
 nobody ain't daid." 
 
 "No, nobody's dead, but the fact of the matter is, we have 
 been burned out; that is, our barn and farm implements 
 have been burned. Father says in his letter, ' Come home and 
 go to work.' ' 
 
 Then Bloxum soliloquized: 
 
 "Just to think of it ! Two months rest Clemmie and Ara- 
 bella and nothing to do with 'niggers' to wait on me! 
 Now, two months work work from morning till night all 
 because I lack a few paltry dollars. Father says he cannot 
 possibly send me one cent, but to come home and go to work. ' ' 
 
 Then he added: 
 
 "Why are you grinning? Can you see anything funny in 
 that ? I will not see Clemmie nor Arabella for another year. ' ' 
 
 "I am not laffin' at yer," said Buck. "I am pleased to 
 know that is all. Why, I can fix any moneys all right." 
 
 "What you take me fer? Think I am a 'nigger'? Going 
 to let you buy my tickers and " 
 
 "Yer shut up; ain't yer my guest? How yer get down 
 there is not yer business. I'm responsible fer yer 'til nex' 
 year. So that ends it. Yer write yer pappy and tell him 
 
 that yer is in the hands of Mr. Buck Lashum, of A 
 
 County, Alabamy." 
 
 "Buck, you must be a great man down in your county. 
 
 When you get through College the people of A County 
 
 will see that you go to Congress from your district. I tell 
 you, Buck, you are a wonder." 
 
 "Yer can bet I am going to run things when I git out o' 
 College," said Buck. 
 
 ' ' Yes ; when I come down their electioneering for you, then 
 you can pay my expenses; and you can then present me to 
 Clemmie and Arabella." 
 
 "Bloxum, I tell yer I don't want no more fool talk. Yer 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 71 
 
 goes with me as my guest. Pappy say fer me to bring yer. 
 I will write yer mammy and tell her that I will look after her 
 little boy." And Buck laughed at his own cleverness. 
 
 When Bloxum left Buck, he laughed long and heartily to 
 himself at his success in obtaining Buck's promise to take him 
 South as his guest. 
 
 "Well, that fellow is easy, sure enough. But that gives me 
 an idea. If I can handle him so easy, what may I not do with 
 the whole bunch of ' meadow hogs ' in a year or two ? What in 
 the world does Clemmie look like? Wonder how she dresses? 
 Old man Lashum must have lots of money. Bet your life I 
 will find out this summer." 
 
 Such thoughts ran through Bloxum 's mind until he finally 
 fell asleep. Buck, being of the same state of mind, congratu- 
 lated himself upon the clever way he had induced Bloxum to 
 accept his hospitality. 
 
 "Bloxum is too darn sensitive. But I must take him down 
 there, or pappy will say that I lied when I wrote that I was 
 the leader of all the Southern boys in the College. I don't 
 know about that Tennessee fellow; he is so darn proper and 
 stuck up, he may refuse. Anyway, I can get four or five to 
 go; that will prove what I wrote pappy." 
 
 Buck was much concerned lest the young man from Ten- 
 nessee and a few others, who belonged to old aristocratic fami- 
 lies, should refuse his invitation, as he had written home 
 giving the names of the young men whom his father might 
 expect as his son's guests for one week. 
 
 "Well, DeVaux," said the Tennesseean to his Louisiana 
 friend, "I hear that you propose to visit that Lashum fellow 
 at his home this summer for one week ? ' ' 
 
 "Not guilty," said DeVaux; "what do you take me for? 
 How long since I commenced to take these 'crackers' on terms 
 of 'Social Equality'? I am under obligations to you, since I 
 got the invitation through your friendship for him. ' ' 
 
72 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Oh, of course, I am responsible for all your ills. Did I 
 also make you acquainted with Miss Donewell? Did I also 
 cause Overley to cut you out?" laughed DeVaux's friend. 
 "But, seriously, DeVaux, you had the lead until Overley and 
 Forbes pulled her out of Black River; then your colors fell. 
 Why did you surrender so quickly ? ' ' 
 
 ' ' Why ? Because the young lady seemed to want somebody 
 else. My pride would not permit me to wait until I was 
 snubbed," answered DeVaux; then added: "What do you 
 intend to do about your invitation to visit Lashum ? ' ' 
 
 "Visit Lashum? Why I never took the proposition seri- 
 ously. I have no intentions of accepting an invitation of any 
 kind from him. Who is going to accept?" 
 
 "Bloxum, I guess," answered DeVaux ; "he has the one 
 chance left. He was saying to me that he thought New 
 Orleans a most beautiful city. When I asked him if he had 
 ever visited that city, he answered by saying that he had not, 
 but would as soon as he got acquainted with some native of 
 the soil. I did not continue the conversation further. You 
 can bet he will go with Lashum." 
 
 Their talk drifted into other channels, and Bloxum and 
 Buck were forgotten. 
 
 The time soon rolled around for the boys to leave for thei* 
 respective homes. Bloxum had finally agreed to let Buck do 
 the honors for the summer, and they left the College together. 
 When they reached their destination, they were met by Mr. 
 and Mrs. Nick Lashum, Sr., Clemmie and Arabella. Bloxum 
 was not prepared for the sight that met his gaze. Nick 
 Lashum, Sr., with his large boots and small legs; Mrs. Nick 
 Lashum, Sr., with her plaid shawl and blue skirt ; Clemmie 
 the divine creature with her bangs and curls, topped by a 
 picture hat of flowers, ribbons and velvet, a yellow gown 
 trimmed in brown, a costume calculated to cause all the girls 
 of her class in A County to envy her. 
 
 He could not get his eyes off this vision. Was this the girl 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 73 
 
 upon whom he had set his mind, through Buck's description 
 of her? If he had had the means he would have gone back 
 home by the next train. Bloxum, although of a very small 
 nature, was bright and intellectual, and had had the benefit 
 of excellent home training. He was shocked at the sight that 
 presented itself to him; but when Clemmie came down to 
 breakfast next morning in evening dress with rings on all four 
 fingers, Bloxum was astounded. 
 
 Arabella, strange as it may seem, was by nature a very 
 handsome child, and seemed to know, instinctively, what she 
 looked well in, and she did look very attractive in a plain 
 white frock. Nick, Sr., was disappointed, because Buck did 
 not bring with him all the friends he had led his father to 
 expect. Buck explained that the boys had been ordered to 
 come home from College and they were to visit him on their 
 way back in the fall. 
 
 Bloxum spent most of his time sleeping, when not riding 
 about the country with Arabella. And while thoroughly dis- 
 appointed and disgusted with his surroundings and the condi- 
 tions amidst which he found himself in Alabama, conditions 
 so totally different from anything he had ever before seen or 
 heard of, he yet found much to amuse and interest him. 
 Bloxum frankly confessed to himself that he enjoyed the 
 company of Arabella, a creature so entirely different from 
 the rest of that strange brood. 
 
 As the time for them to return to College drew near the 
 elder Lashum began to question Buck about his school friends. 
 Buck was sure they would arrive on schedule time, pretending 
 to receive letters to that effect. At the last moment Buck 
 received a telegram requesting him to join the class in Cleve- 
 land, Ohio, at a class reunion. This appeared to satisfy the 
 senior Lashum, and he therefore sent Buck and Bloxum north 
 a week earlier than the time set for their departure. Buck 
 and his friend made good use of this time in Cleveland and 
 other places. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FEW days before the time set for the College boys to 
 resume their studies a discussion was precipitated 
 by Buck and Bloxum, in which feeling ran very high. 
 
 These boys, not having anything in particular to occupy 
 their minds, soon began to look about for amusement. In the 
 Mess Hall there were six or eight boys who "waited table" to 
 help pay their expenses at College. Among them were two 
 Negroes, one a green Southern boy with all the fears grounded 
 in him that characterize a great many Negro boys from the 
 South. 
 
 The other boy was a Westerner, who knew nothing of the 
 environment in which his co-laborer had formerly lived. Buck 
 had time and again addressed the Southern boy as "nigger," 
 and assumed that the other boy could be so addressed. In 
 this he made a mistake, and his mistake cost him one of the 
 worst beatings he had ever received, and this .one was particu- 
 larly humiliating because it came from a despised Negro. 
 
 He tried to forget what happened to him at the hands of 
 this boy, but was unable to do so, nor would his fellow students 
 allow him to forget. This encounter led to a discussion of 
 races that brought out the views of nearly every boy in the 
 College. 
 
 Bloxum led off in a wordy defense of Buck. 
 
 "I tell you, fellers, that I am going to take this case to the 
 Dean. That fellow he was careful to say fellow hit Buck 
 for no reason whatever, and hit him when he was not looking. 
 He should be expelled." 
 
 "No, he didn't hit your friend when he was not looking," 
 said the long Yankee boy. "I saw the whole mill. Your 
 friend was given time to withdraw the insult, but would not. 
 He got all that was coming to him. I say no advantage was 
 taken of him." 
 
 74 
 
AS WE SEE IT. VO 
 
 ' ' I tell you there was, ' ' Bloxum answered ; ' ' and I can prove 
 it. You are a nice white man, taking up for these people all 
 the time." 
 
 "I take up for whom I please, and don't you question me 
 about my actions. You saw, as I saw, that those men were 
 facing each other when your friend was slapped. The idea ! 
 Let anybody slap him and never hit back! That's Southern 
 blood for you!" 
 
 "Well, Southern people feel that it is beneath them to have 
 personal encounters with Negroes," spoke up DeVaux. 
 
 ' ' That is a peculiar kind of reasoning peculiar to Southern 
 people. 'Beneath their dignity' to fight single-handed with a 
 Negro, but not 'beneath their dignity' to insult and ill-treat 
 him and even take his life, when in a company of three and 
 four, or even in a mob of a hundred ! ' ' answered the Yankee 
 boy. Then, turning to the Tennessee boy, he said : ' ' Say, my 
 friend, can you explain that side of the Southern blood 
 tome?" 
 
 ''No, I cannot," was the answer. "But I want you to 
 understand that the picture you draw is not a true one of all 
 the people in the South. Further, I want you to understand 
 that Buck Lashum and Bloxum do not represent me, my 
 family nor my friends. We feel that it is as much beneath 
 us to insult a Negro as it is to fight with him." 
 
 "Well, I guess Buck was moved by your high ideals when 
 he permitted his face to be slapped by a Negro," replied the 
 long Yankee boy. "At any rate, he failed to hit back." 
 
 "I have never been able to understand why you Southern 
 boys, particularly of a certain class, are always and continu- 
 ally harping on the Negro," said Forbes; "men like you, 
 DeVaux, and your friend from Tennessee, talk of your mam- 
 mies and your aunties. Overley, over there, speaks of his 
 Negro friend as his chum. Lashum and Bloxum always speak 
 of Negroes as ' d niggers. ' Wherein does the difference lie ? 
 Is it in these Negroes, or is it in your people?" 
 
 "Well, so far as I am concerned," said the Tennesseean, 
 
76 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "these things don't worry me nor do they worry my family 
 or friends. We work on the principle that a Negro has the 
 same right to live and enjoy life that any other man has. We 
 hire him and pay him for his labor. He goes about his busi- 
 ness; we go about ours. When he is trying to do right and 
 we know he is an honest man and he asks our aid, we give it. 
 WE ALWAYS AID A WORTHY NEGRO. When we see that he is 
 being imposed upon, we call a halt. 
 
 ' ' No, indeed, my friend, you don 't understand the nature of 
 this race of people," continued the Tennessee boy. "They 
 are simple and they are not simple. Simply because they will 
 trust your word implicitly, do thousands of dollars worth of 
 business with your 'taking your word for it,' but remember- 
 ing every little detail in the transaction for years back. We 
 never break our word given with them. This is the reason 
 that all men of my class in the South have no grievance against 
 the Negro. He understands us and we understand him. 
 Lashum and Bloxum can speak for themselves." 
 
 "My pappy says 'niggers' ain't got no right to live," said 
 Lashum, "let alone own plantations and stock." 
 
 "Why?" asked a dozen boys at once. 
 
 "Because they are 'niggers,' " was the answer. 
 
 "What makes them 'niggers'?" asked an English boy. 
 
 "Why, their inferior blood, of course," was Buck's answer. 
 
 "Well, that may be from your point of view. You are 
 white ; your blood is superior. Thomas L. Jones, who gradu- 
 ated from this College last year and who was rated third in 
 his class, was called a 'nigger.' He was whiter than you are. 
 What made him a 'nigger'?" 
 
 "Why, his mother's blood, of course," Buck answered. 
 
 "His mother's blood?" asked the English boy. "Why, she 
 was a quadroon, as white as you are, and his father was a 
 Caucasian. Do you mean to tell me that the sixteen drops of 
 your superior blood will be overcome by his one drop of 
 inferior blood? Impossible! Your position is ridiculous. 
 You are governed by a blind prejudice. Get rid of it!" 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HORTLY after this discussion among the boys concerning 
 the "status" of the "niggers" Malcolm and Abe, after 
 discussing the merits and demerits of the arguments of 
 the various students who engaged in this animated discussion 
 of the "Race Question," continued: 
 
 "Abe," said Malcolm suddenly, "you have not lived up to 
 your agreement with me." 
 
 "I have not! Why, Malcolm, what can you mean?" 
 
 "Well, last year and since we have been back you have 
 steadfastly refused to go with me to Miss Donewell's home, 
 offering one excuse and then another. Now, I want to know 
 what is the trouble. Has Miss Donewell or her father inti- 
 mated to you that you are not welcome ? ' ' 
 
 1 ' Oh, no ! " exclaimed Abe ; " on the contrary, they both have 
 asked me repeatedly to call on them at their home. I have 
 always refused. Why, you ask me. Malcolm, do you think 
 I do not know that we belong to two separate and distinct 
 races, and that the sentiment in the section from which we 
 come is hostile to the free intermingling of the races? I, of 
 course, know that you do not consider the color of my skin; 
 but there are others who do. You know that I do not visit 
 your female friends down at your old home. Why should I 
 do so here ? Buck Lashum and his crowd have said more than 
 once that you invite me to the homes of white women. You 
 can resent it ; for it is not true. 
 
 "Now, as to my reason. Malcolm, I know that I have no 
 better friends, nor will I ever have better friends, than you 
 and your father. I believe that unless something unforeseen 
 intervenes, you and Miss Donewell will some day become man 
 and wife and reside on the old plantation. I know the harm 
 that will be done her should the report precede her to her 
 future home that she took me on ' Social Equality.' I, there- 
 
 7? 
 
78 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 fore, ask you to let me have my own way in this matter. You 
 know that I have always insisted that no good could possibly 
 come by the mingling of the races socially. No, Malcolm, no 
 good can possibly come from my accepting these invitations. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, Abe, that is true enough; but you are my friend, and 
 I insist on your receiving the same consideration from my 
 friends that I receive." 
 
 ' ' True, you have so insisted ; but can you recall any instance 
 when you have received an invitation and I have not ? Well, 
 at any rate, it is left to me to accept or refuse. I beg of you 
 not to press me further. I say that I do not feel, and will 
 never feel, that you have deserted me. You would feel out 
 of place in the homes where I visit. I would feel out of place 
 in the homes that you visit. I trust you now understand 
 me/' said Abe. 
 
 "I understand what you say. Your reason may be a good 
 one, but if I see fit to take you with me, who has the right to 
 dispute my right to choose a companion? Father told me 
 that I was to see that you were accorded the same treatment 
 that I receive, and " 
 
 "Yes, yes, Malcolm; but he never meant that you were to 
 take me into the same society with you. He meant school 
 privileges. I am perfectly satisfied with the young ladies 
 whom I visit." 
 
 "Well, Abe, let that pass. Where did you get the idea that 
 I would some day marry Miss Donewell ? She has never said 
 that she would marry me." 
 
 "She will, if you are the man I take you to be. Malcolm, 
 if you do not win her well, our friendship will end. She is 
 certainly the finest woman, save one, that I have ever met." 
 
 ' ' Hello ! Abe, have you a girl ? You sly dog ! You never 
 told me about her. Who is she f You are a nice one. I have 
 been telling you of my hopes and fears, and you have been 
 hiding your lady from me. I do not think you have been 
 treating me square." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 79 
 
 "I have no idea in the world, Malcolm, that the young lady 
 whom I admire ever thinks of me other than as an acquaint- 
 ance. We have never had a serious talk in our lives. Miss 
 Watson is her name. The young lady who led her class last 
 year. But for the color of their skins you would think she 
 and Miss Donewell were sisters." 
 
 ' 'Oh, yes; I have seen her at Miss Donewell's house. She 
 has avoided me on more than one occasion. I think you must 
 have put her up to it." 
 
 "We have similar ideas along certain lines, Malcolm. But 
 I am sure she never intended to offend you. She simply feels, 
 as I do, that no good can possibly come by the mingling of 
 the races socially." 
 
 "Abe, I guess you are right, after all. At any rate, we 
 now understand each other better. Good night, old fellow; 
 from the bottom of my heart I wish you all the succees in the 
 world," said Malcolm, as he left Abe and commenced to 
 prepare himself for a visit to Mr. Donewell's home. 
 
 When Abe was left to himself he sat for a long time thinking 
 of what Malcolm had said. 
 
 "I wonder," Abe asked himself, "whether he will ever 
 change toward me. I do not believe he will. I feel that no 
 matter what befalls me, Malcolm will still be my friend." 
 
 * ' Abe is a curious fellow, ' ' thought Malcolm. ' ' I could not 
 induce him to change his mind. Well, since I have thought 
 the matter over, I cannot see why I insisted on his visiting 
 these young ladies. Mabel is all right ; but the rest ? I think 
 Abe would stand by me against a regiment of cavalry. He's 
 true blue." 
 
 Malcolm was soon on his way to Miss Donewell 's home. He 
 had been invited to meet some young ladies who were visiting 
 Miss Donewell and whose home was in New York. 
 
 Abe had also received an invitation; but, as we have seen, 
 had refused to accept. 
 
80 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 Upon Malcolm's arrival he was asked by the ladies why he 
 had not brought his friend. He made an excuse for Abe by 
 saying a previous engagement or something to that effect had 
 kept him away. The visiting ladies had heard so much of 
 Abe through Miss Donewell and Malcolm that they were 
 curious to see and learn something more about him. They 
 were very much disappointed that he did not accept the invi- 
 tation. Malcolm was asked by Miss Donewell if he could not 
 suggest some way by which Abe could be induced to visit her 
 guests, as they were very anxious to meet him. After some 
 thought Malcolm suggested that Miss Watson be invited and 
 that she be requested to bring Abe with her, explaining that 
 the visiting ladies and no one else be present. That the ladies 
 wanted to hear Miss Watson and Abe in their famous duet, the 
 two having won the reputation of being very fine singers. One 
 of the visiting ladies was an exceptionally fine pianiste and 
 a delightful musical evening was promised. Next morning 
 Abe received a note from Miss Watson inviting him to accom- 
 pany her to Miss Donewell 's home that evening to meet some 
 ladies of the musical world. Abe was very fond of music, and, 
 as Miss Watson was to be there, the two inducements decided 
 him to accept. This was the first note Abe had ever received 
 from Miss Watson, so he hid it away in his pocketbook, little 
 thinking the service it would be to him a few weeks later. 
 
 At the appointed time Miss Watson and Abe arrived at the 
 Donewell home, where they found the ladies waiting. After 
 several choice selections, vocal and instrumental, tea was 
 served. Some time was spent in a very spirited conversation, 
 after which Miss Watson and Abe left to join some friends 
 at the home of Miss Watson 's friend, Miss Glenn. 
 
 "Mabel," exclaimed her friends, all speaking at once. 
 1 ' My ! But he is black ! He 's your ' ' 
 
 "Mabel, his voice is grand and his manners are " 
 
 ' ' Mabel, where was he educated ? He acts like he is white ; 
 his table manners are " 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 81 
 
 "Mabel, I never saw one so black. Why, his skin is 
 just " 
 
 "How unfortunate that he is black," said Mabel, laugh- 
 ingly, "else what a scramble you four girls would make for 
 him. I agree with you girls, he is all you say and more; he 
 is a young man of exceptional habits. Now, Miss Scott, I 
 hope you are satisfied ; you have had a birthday treat, ' ' added 
 Mabel. 
 
 ' ' Yes, ' ' said Miss Scott ; " I do not remember ever spending 
 a more enjoyable anniversary. I hope to always remember the 
 two hours, 7 to 9 p. m., November 10, 18 ." 
 
 It is well for Abe, as we shall see later, that Miss Scott made 
 mention of this date and these hours, as they were thereby 
 impressed upon the minds of the other young ladies. 
 
 After Malcolm left, Abe sat musing for some moments, after 
 which he walked into Malcolm's room and took up a queer- 
 looking meerschaum pipe, filled it and began to smoke. Soon 
 he remarked to himself that he wanted to see Forbes, and left 
 his room, taking the pipe with him. Not being permitted to 
 smoke in the halls, he pushed the stem of the pipe up his 
 sleeve, holding the bowl in his hand close to his body. With 
 the pipe in this position, apparently hiding it, Abe met Buck, 
 Bloxum and several other boys of that set. 
 
 "What you recon' he is hidin' that pipe fer?" said Buck, 
 as Abe passed him. 
 
 "Likely as not he is carrying it down the hall to sell it to 
 Forbes/' remarked Bloxum. 
 
 * * You fellows can always see something wrong in everything 
 that Overley does. Why not tell him what you have just told 
 us?" said Sam Bucker. 
 
 "Just like you, taking up fer 'niggers.' I remember when 
 we went to see Dr. Finley 'bout 'niggers' eatin' with us you 
 was the first one to back out and have been leaning 'nigger- 
 ward' ever since," said Buck. 
 
82 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "No, I am not leaning ' nigger- ward, ' nor am I taking up 
 for ' niggers. ' I think you two ought to be more manly, either 
 to say these things to Overley or leave them unsaid. But you 
 and Bloxum do not seem to understand the position that gen- 
 tlemen should take in such matters. If you despise Overley, 
 as you claim, the dignified gentleman would ignore him." 
 
 ' ' Bucker, you ain 't a thing, ' ' said Buck. * ' Ain 't we white ? 
 Whose got nothin' to do with us when it comes to these 'nig- 
 gers'?" 
 
 "Well," said a boy from North Carolina, "the whole fetched 
 crowd is bad. But Buck and Bloxum do worry too much about 
 them. We've got nothing to do with thatair pipe. Come on, 
 let's have a game. Do something that gentlemen can find 
 some amusement in." 
 
 These young men then passed into Buck's room, where they 
 were soon busily engaged in a game of poker. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 'HILE Abe was at the home of Miss Donewell, Mal- 
 colm missed his pipe, the meerschaum pipe spoken 
 of in a previous chapter. He searched his own room, 
 and Abe's, but could not find it. 
 
 Upon Abe's return he found Malcolm brooding over his loss. 
 
 "Malcolm, what is the matter? You look as if you have 
 lost your best friend. Cheer up. I have a message for you 
 from Miss Donewell. She invites you to call tomorrow evening 
 at 7.30 p. m., as her visitors have received an unexpected sum- 
 mons to return to their homes. They will take the midnight 
 train. They also expect you to see them off. Miss Donewell 
 says she is going with them. You will have four full hours 
 with her, Malcolm, and this is your chance, or else she wouldn 't 
 have sent for you. I wish you every success." 
 
 "Abe, after the way you treated me in your affair. I think 
 you have nerve and plenty, to expect me to talk to you 
 about my case. But you seem so fatherly, I will say that I 
 do intend to avail myself of the first opportunity that presents 
 to learn my fate." After a moment or two Malcolm added: 
 "We have met with a very serious loss, Abe, if you do not 
 know where our pipe is. I have looked all over the place for 
 it. Do you know where it is?" 
 
 ' ' Let me see, ' ' said Abe ; " I think I. saw it just before I 
 went out last night. ' ' 
 
 "Well, it is not here now," said Malcolm, and the gloomy 
 look which Abe noticed when he entered the room again settled 
 upon his face. 
 
 "What will I say to father if we don't find it? He values 
 that pipe very highly, because his great-grandfather smoked it. 
 That pipe was never off the old place before and now it is 
 lost." 
 
 83 
 
84 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 While Malcolm was talking Abe had been searching the 
 room. He looked in every place in which the pipe could pos- 
 sibly be, but to no purpose. It was gone. 
 
 " Malcolm, I cannot find it. Think. Have you left it in 
 any boy's room? Let us ask Forbes and the rest of the boys. " 
 They then proceeded to Forbes 's room, but Forbes had not 
 seen the pipe nor had any of the rest of the boys. 
 
 ' ' What shall I do ? " asked Malcolm. ' ' This pipe is a family 
 heirloom. My father will never forgive me for losing it." 
 
 "Report the loss to the Dean at once," said Rattles. Maybe 
 he can suggest some way by which it can be recovered." 
 
 They went immediately to the Dean, and explained the loss 
 and its seriousness. The Dean promised to investigate the 
 matter at once. He first, however, reported to Dr. Finley 
 that the pipe was lost under circumstances that looked as if 
 it were stolen. They then ordered all the boys on that floor 
 before them. Dr. Finley had a short heart-to-heart talk with 
 them, suggesting that he would consider it a personal favor if 
 the boy who knew the whereabouts of the pipe would see that 
 it was returned. He did not ask nor did he desire the students 
 to inform upon one another. He also intimated that he 
 thought the boys on the same floor with Malcolm and Abo 
 knew all about the pipe, thereby practically exonerating the 
 rest of the school. This brought Buck and Bloxum together 
 about a week later. 
 
 "Buck, now we've got him," said Bloxum. "Let us go to 
 the Dean and tell him that we are on his floor and do not feel 
 content to live under the suspicion that has been cast upon us 
 simply because we are on this floor. That we saw Abe with 
 the pipe. All the fellows who were with us in the hall will 
 remember how he had the pipe up his coat sleeve. I tell you 
 we've got him this time." 
 
 "D his black hide! I hope we is. Come on, let's go 
 to the Dean," said Buck. 
 
 The two then proceeded to the Dean's office and stated to 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 85 
 
 him that on account of being on the same floor with the Over- 
 leys they were very much humiliated because of the suspicion 
 cast upon them by the loss of Overley 's pipe. They very much 
 disliked to say anything that would reflect upon any student, 
 but they saw Abe Overley with the pipe half up his coat sleeve 
 going into Forbes 's room on the night of November 10th; 
 were confident that it was November 10th. They gave the 
 names of several other students who saw him, together with 
 the part of the conversation that followed after Buck 's remark 
 about Abe taking the pipe to Forbes. 
 
 These young men were so embarrassed that they could not 
 tell the story at once, and it was only by dint of close question- 
 ing that the Dean could get a clear idea of what they had seen. 
 He reported the facts to Dr. Finley, who immediately sent for 
 the boys whose names were given as witnesses. After ques- 
 tioning them very closely, the Doctor concluded to send for 
 Abe. When Abe put in his appearance the Doctor repeated 
 to him what he had heard, and asked what he had to say for 
 himself. 
 
 "Doctor," said Abe, "I was not in the hall the night in 
 question between the hours of 6.30 and 11 p. m. I was at the 
 
 home of ," Abe stopped short and looked the Doctor full 
 
 in the face, and said, ' ' I cannot tell you at whose home I was 
 that night without the permission of that person." 
 
 "Mr. Overley," said the Doctor, "do you realize the posi- 
 tion in which you place yourself and the chain of suspicion 
 that encircles you? Consider well before you decide not to 
 make a complete statement of your whereabouts the night this 
 pipe was missed." 
 
 "Doctor, I know only too well the danger in which I find 
 myself. I know the natures of the persons \vho have come to 
 you with this story. I know the animus behind the whole 
 affair. But, Doctor, for all that, I cannot say where I was 
 that night. It must come from the other person. ' ' 
 
86 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Does your friend Overley know your whereabouts?" asked 
 the Doctor. 
 
 "Yes, sir, he does," said Abe. 
 
 Will you say to him that I desire his presence at once. I 
 do not wish you to say one word to him about what has passed 
 between us," said the Doctor, as he arose and extended his 
 hand silently to Abe. 
 
 "What does he want, Abe?" asked Malcolm, when the 
 request was delivered. 
 
 He said to me, 'I do not wish you to say one word to him 
 (meaning you) about what has passed between us,' so you see 
 where I am at. You must face the lion unprepared," said 
 Abe, laughingly. 
 
 "Well, I will soon know," answered Malcolm, as he pre- 
 pared to leave for the Doctor's office. After Abe's departure 
 the Doctor turned to the Dean and remarked: "These boys 
 are the two strongest characters in the school. They are 
 friends. This white boy feels the loss of his pipe very keenly. 
 Now, we will see what he will say when he learns what these 
 other boys have said about his friend. ' ' 
 
 Upon Malcolm's arrival the Doctor told him what he had 
 heard, the number of witnesses who saw Abe with the pipe, 
 and, finally, Abe's refusal to say where he was the night the 
 pipe was lost. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Overley, your friend says you know where he 
 was that night. Will you tell us?" 
 
 "No, sir; if he refused to say where he was, I, of course, 
 cannot betray his confidence," answered Malcolm, simply. 
 
 "Well," said the Doctor, as he handed Malcolm an official 
 note, "take this to him. It is a notice of suspension, pending 
 further investigation. I am very sorry that this course must 
 be pursued." 
 
 "Do you mean, Doctor, that you believe, upon the statement 
 of this bunch of " 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 87 
 
 "Be careful, Mr. Overley. I have expressed no belief in 
 this matter. I am simply pursuing the course that is usual in 
 matters of this kind," the Doctor answered very quickly. 
 
 * ' I will never believe Abe stole that pipe, nor will he steal, ' ' 
 said Malcolm, as he left the Doctor's office. 
 
 He hastened to Abe with Dr. Finley 's note, which follows : 
 
 Oberlin, Ohio, November 28, 18. 
 Mr. Abraham Overley, 
 
 Dear Sir : This is to notify you that you are suspended from 
 further participation in the College exercises or lectures until 
 further notice. 
 
 FINLEY, President. 
 
 "What have I done, Malcolm, to warrant this?" asked Abe. 
 when he had recovered from the surprise caused by his sus- 
 pension. 
 
 "You have refused to tell Doctor Finley where you were 
 on the night the pipe was lost. Why, Abe, you have not even 
 told me where you were that night." 
 
 "Have not told you!" exclaimed Abe. "Can it be possible 
 that you, of all persons on this earth, doubt me, too? Why 
 should I tell you that which you already know ? ' ' 
 
 Malcolm, with his hands deep in his pockets, stood looking 
 at Abe in amazement. 
 
 "Abe, do I understand you to say that I knew of your 
 whereabouts upon the night this pipe was stolen? How can 
 you say " 
 
 "My God, Malcolm, you, too, doubt me?" As Abe asked 
 this question he laid his hand on Malcolm's shoulder and 
 looked him in the face, hoping to find there the old look of 
 trust and confidence. Malcolm turned his face away. Abe's 
 hand dropped to his side; his whole attitude changed to one 
 of despair ; he seemed to age perceptibly. Abe moved toward 
 the door, then turned to Malcolm with a look which Malcolm 
 never forgot, and simply said: 
 
88 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ' * And you, too, Malcolm ! ' ' 
 
 Malcolm met his gaze with a heart full of doubts and fears, 
 but answered Abe calmly, saying: 
 
 ' ' Abe, you did not tell me where you were, nor do I know. ' ' 
 
 "My God!" exclaimed Abe, "he, too, believes me to be a 
 thief!" 
 
 Abe passed into his room and cast himself upon his bed, 
 where he remained for the rest of the night and the following 
 day. The morning of the second day, as Abe had not put in 
 his appearance, Malcolm became uneasy about him. Still Abe 
 had not told where he was the night the pipe was stolen. 
 Malcolm, therefore, went to Forbes and Rattles for advice. 
 
 "Say, Forbes," said Malcolm, "what shall we do with Abe? 
 He has not left his room for two days. He does nothing but 
 moan all the time." 
 
 ' ' Let us go and see him, ' ' said Rattles. 
 
 When these young men entered Abe's room they found him 
 lying across his bed, where he had been since his talk with 
 Malcolm. Rattles went to him and lifted his head from the 
 bed, bringing his face into the light, at the sight of which, 
 haggard and careworn, Malcolm and Forbes drew back 
 astounded. 
 
 "Abe," said Rattles, kindly, "what can I do for you? 
 Come, old man, brace up ; you are killing yourself about noth- 
 ing. This thing will blow over in a day or two. ' ' 
 
 Abe raised his eyes to Malcolm 's face and kept them there in 
 a long, bewildered stare. Malcolm could not endure the gaze 
 and moved away to his own room, followed by Forbes. 
 
 "Malcolm," said Forbes, "what is the trouble between you 
 and Abe?" Malcolm hesitated, but Forbes urged him to tell 
 what had come between them. 
 
 "Well, the truth is," said Malcolm, "while I will never 
 believe that Abe stole that pipe, nor will he steal, he would 
 not tell Dr. Finley where he was the night of the 10th, 
 nor would he tell me. Why not me? Then he said T 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 89 
 
 knew. But I do not. He told Dr. Finley that I knew, when 
 he must have known that I did not. What has come over 
 Abe that he has so far forgotten himself as to lie?" 
 
 "Are you sure of what you say?" asked Forbes. "I am 
 loath to believe that Abe will lie." 
 
 At that moment Rattles came into the room with Abe's 
 pocketbook in his hand and walked to the window, remarking 
 that Abe said there was a prescription in it which he wanted 
 filled. Rattles searched the book and pulled forth the note 
 Miss Watson sent Abe asking him to accompany her to Miss 
 Donewell's. It follows: 
 
 Oberlin, Ohio, November 10, 18. 
 
 11 a. m. 
 Mr. Abraham Overley, 
 
 Dear Sir: Will you kindly call for me this afternoon at 
 6.45 to accompany me to a musicale at Miss Donewell's home? 
 We will meet some musical people there from New York City. 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 NANCY WATSON. 
 
 As Rattles began to read 
 
 "Oberlin, Ohio, November 10, 18, 11 a. m.," Malcolm 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "What is that? November 10, 18? Let me see it, Rat- 
 tles," and he grasped the note. As Malcolm read his color 
 changed, his hand trembled; for a moment he seemed to be 
 deprived of the power of speech ; he staggered to a chair and 
 sank upon it, still holding the note before him, at which he 
 gazed in blank amazement. 
 
 "Why, Overley," said Forbes, "what on earth ails you? 
 Has that note deprived you of your senses? Let me see this 
 scroll from the Magii." 
 
 Forbes read the note, as did Rattles, but neither of them 
 seemed to understand the situation. Forbes again asked Mal- 
 colm for an explanation. 
 
90 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Do you not see that date?" asked Malcolm. "November 
 10th is the date upon which I lost that pipe. Abe was at Miss 
 Donewell's home with Miss Watson, and, to make matters 
 worse, I KNEW HE WAS THERE. What a thoughtless thing I 
 have done, to let Abe suffer for two days without attempting 
 to console him. Then, I have written to my father and 
 explained the whole affair to him, as I thought. What an 
 injustice I have done Abe ! How I could have forgotten that 
 he was at Miss Donewell's, when I told them how to get him 
 there, is more than I can understand. He ought never to for- 
 give me. I will see him at once." 
 
 Malcolm went immediately to Abe, who was seated on a 
 chair, where Rattles left him, staring into space. Malcolm 
 extended his hand to him, saying: 
 
 "Abe, can you ever forgive me for the pain I have caused 
 you? I understand now what you meant by asking why you 
 should tell me that which I already knew. My friend, I am 
 ashamed to say so, but I forgot all about that engagement of 
 yours with Miss Watson at Miss Doneweirs. Abe, I ask you 
 a thousand pardons." 
 
 Abe looked up at Malcolm in a half conscious way, 
 apparently not fully understanding all that had been said 
 to him. He took Malcolm's hand, however, in both of his own 
 and said: 
 
 "Malcolm, did you think I stole that pipe?" 
 "Why, no, Abe," said Malcolm; "no such idea crossed my 
 mind. I thought you were not living up to your promise made 
 to me when we first came here, that we would have no secrets 
 from each other. Abe, I shall go immediately to Doctor 
 Finley and explain this wretched affair." 
 
 "No, Malcolm ; do not do that. I do not want it done. This 
 explanation must come from them. I must insist, my friends, 
 that each of you promise me that you will not say one word 
 of this to a living soul." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 91 
 
 "I am sure I do not see the force of your request," said 
 Battles; "but I will respect your wish." 
 
 "Abe, we want to consult on your case," said Forbes, Mal- 
 colm and Rattles as they went out of the room. "Malcolm, 
 you are the only person who has the key to this situation. 
 What does Abe mean by not wanting you, nor either of us, to 
 say where he was that night?" 
 
 "I do not believe that either of you has ever heard Abe 
 express himself about visiting white women," said Malcolm; 
 "nor do you know that he has never before November 10, 
 visited Miss Donewell. Well, such is the fact. He has always 
 contended that no good could possibly come by the commin- 
 gling of the races socially. Now, through Miss Watson, he 
 accepted an invitation to meet some ladies at Miss Donewell 's 
 home, and while there this pipe was stolen. Abe absolutely 
 refuses to say where he was that night, nor will he permit us 
 to say. He is already suspended and will suffer himself to 
 be expelled before he will divulge his whereabouts the night 
 in question. What can we do about it?" 
 
 ' ' I hardly know, ' ' said Forbes. ' ' We must certainly respect 
 his wishes. But must we permit him to sacrifice himself upon 
 the altar of his high ideal, which seems to me a bit over- 
 drawn ? ' ' 
 
 "What can we do?" asked Rattles. "It is Abe's affair. 
 We have no right to 'butt in.' Say, I admire his grit. He 
 is suspended now, and is prepared to be expelled rather than 
 say that he was at a white woman's home. Many a Negro 
 would be crowing about it." 
 
 "When I questioned Abe about not accepting invitations 
 to these various places, he answered that his female associates 
 suited him," said Malcolm. "He even said that you could 
 not tell the difference between Miss Donewell and Miss Watson 
 but for the color of their skins. I tell you, fellows, he has 
 ideas of his own." 
 
92 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "As we have no right to divulge Abe's secret," remarked 
 Forbes, "let us advise him to see Doctor Finley himself." 
 
 "Abe," said Forbes, "we are your friends and want to 
 advise you. Overley has just explained this whole affair to 
 us. We think you are wrong. Miss Donewell and her father 
 have invited you to their home ; so have I invited you to mine. 
 Do you think that they or that I would object to your saying 
 that you accepted the invitations? Abe, you are drawing it 
 too fine." 
 
 1 1 Forbes, I appreciate your good intentions, ' ' answered Abe ; 
 "but you do not understand. You cannot understand the 
 position in which I am. You " 
 
 ' ' Why can 't I understand ? ' ' asked Forbes. 
 
 "Because you are not a Negro," Abe replied, solemly. 
 
 This remark of Abe's stopped all conversation for several 
 moments. The silence was broken by Abe 's remarking : 
 
 "Fellows, I am in for it. I can but 4 let matters take their 
 course. ' ' 
 
 "Well, you can take a little exercise, at any rate," said Rat- 
 tles, and he suggested a turn around the campus. As Abe and 
 his three friends neared the upper end of the campus they 
 came upon a group of boys, which included DeVaux and his 
 friend from Tennessee, together with Bucker and Bloxum. 
 DeVaux was the first to note Abe 's approach. 
 
 1 ' Why, fellows, there is Abe Overley, ' ' he remarked. ' ' Look 
 at him. I don't believe he would steal anything." 
 
 "Nor do I," said the Tennesseean. Turning to Abe, he 
 extended his hand very cordially, saying : 
 
 "Overley, I hear that you are in trouble that you are 
 suspended that you are practically accused of stealing a 
 pipe from your friend Malcolm; all these things coming 
 through statements of persons not above small things. I want 
 to say to you that I do not believe that you are guilty in any 
 sense of the word. If there is anything I can do for you, 
 command me; I am at your service." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 93 
 
 "Overley," said DeVaux, after the general handshaking, 
 which was joined by all except Bloxum, who slunk away as 
 soon as the boys began to gather about Abe, "when this thing 
 is cleared up and you are exonerated, as I know you will be, 
 you must do some lambasting." 
 
 "D if I wouldn't commence now," said the Yankee boy, 
 "if I were you. Those fellows need a good thrashing. I tell 
 you, Abe Overley, I can count on my fingers all the boys in 
 this College who believe you guilty. Whenever I think of 
 this trick, I feel like thrashing somebody. ' ' 
 
 As Bloxum turned to leave the crowd, Bucker called to 
 him, saying earnestly : ' ' Don 't leave, Bloxum ; don 't you hear 
 what these fellows are saying?" Bloxum apparently did not 
 hear what his friend Bucker said, as he kept on, going straight 
 to Buck's room. 
 
 ' ' Say, Buck, ' ' he said, ' ' don 't you know those fellows down 
 on the campus are making a fool of Abe Overley, telling him 
 that they know he is not guilty, and that a ' nigger' won't 
 steal. Well, you should have heard them." 
 
 "Bloxum, I don't give a doggon fer the whole bunch," said 
 Buck. "I am going to Elmyra; come on and go." 
 
 Bloxum did not need a second invitation; they were soon 
 on the way. 
 
 Abe appeared to feel much relieved after being assured by 
 his friends and acquaintances that he had not lost their confi- 
 dence and still retained their respect. These young men went 
 back to Malcolm's room, where a free and frank exchange of 
 thought was had. Good-fellowship soon held sway once more. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FTER the conversation between Malcolm and Abe, 
 which resulted in the latter 's prostration and seclu- 
 sion for two days, Malcolm felt it his duty to inform 
 his father as to what had taken place. He, therefore, wrote to 
 him as follows: 
 
 Oberlin, Ohio, November 15th. 
 Dear Father: 
 
 I can imagine how you and Uncle Abe will feel when this 
 letter reaches you both, but I feel it my duty to write the whole 
 circumstances, that you may form your own opinion. 
 
 The meerschaum pipe that I brought from home is the cause 
 of all this trouble. On the night of November 10th last, I 
 missed the pipe from my room. I reported the loss of the 
 pipe to the Dean ; he, in turn, reported the loss to Dr. Finley, 
 who called all the boys on our floor together, stating to them 
 that he thought some of the boys on our floor knew where the 
 pipe was. He asked that it be brought back. Later, Buck 
 Lashum and Squealer Bloxum went to the Dean and told him 
 that they, together with several other boys, saw Abe with the 
 pipe, half up his sleeve, going through the hall to Will Forbes 's 
 room. The Dean reported to the Doctor, who sent for the 
 boys, and they all agreed that they saw Abe, as Buck and 
 Bloxum stated. 
 
 The Doctor then sent for Abe, who denied being in the hall 
 at the time they claimed to have seen him. When asked where 
 he was he absolutely refused to say. 
 
 He said, further, that I knew where he was, but I do not. 
 As a result, Abe is suspended, and at this time is in his room, 
 where he has been for two days. 
 
 I do not know what to do with him. I do not believe that 
 Abe knows anything about the pipe ; but why does he not tell 
 where he was*? And why did he say that I knew where he 
 was, when I did not? 
 
 Father, what must I do? Tell Uncle Abe to write to him 
 and command him to say where he was. He will obey his 
 father. 
 
 These are the circumstances. I hope this will not worry 
 
 94 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 95 
 
 you, but I feel it my duty to let you both know exactly what 
 has happened. 
 
 Give my love to the people. I am well, but worried. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 M. A. 0., JR. 
 
 After Malcolm A. Overley, Sr., had read and reread this 
 letter, in Old Abe's hearing, he said: 
 
 "Abe, what the h do you think of that? Just to think 
 of it! Abe suspended under suspicion of having stolen my 
 pipe, that he has been playing with all 'his life ! Such d 
 rot! That shows what little sense these d professors have. 
 That boy steal? Why, I should as soon believe that my Abe 
 would steal. But, why don 't he tell where he was that night ? 
 Abe, d your black hide, have you nothing to say ? Are you 
 going to let them make a thief of that boy? Buck Lashum! 
 He saw Abe hiding that pipe ! H and damnation, man, are 
 you asleep, or are you dumb, or are you such a fool that you 
 don 't care what happens to that boy of yours ? D if I don 't 
 believe you are glad he is in trouble ! Sit there now looking 
 like that d old kicking mule of yours. Can 't you talk ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, sar, ob cose I kin talk/' said Old Abe; "but yuse 
 been talkin ' an ' cussin ' for mor 'n half hour. How kin I talk ? 
 How I goin ' to git a word in, nohow ? My po ' boy, he am in 
 all dis heah trouble 'bout dat pipe. I vouch Buck Lashum 
 stole dat pipe. Yes, sar; de Lawd's will mus' be done." 
 
 "Yes, the Lord's will must be done. Saddle it on the Lord. 
 That's the plea of every 'nigger' I ever heard of, after he has 
 been caught doing wrong. The Lord's will! According to 
 that doctrine, the Lord wills that you 'niggers' do wrong. It 
 is too foolish for discussion. What are you going to do about 
 that boy of yours?" 
 
 "I does not know. I does know dat my Abe won't steal; 
 but why he not say whar he war, I does not know. Dat boy 
 he sho' got a good 'scuse fo' not sayin' whar he at dat night. 
 All I say is dis: 'Lawd, dy will be done.' " 
 
96 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 1 1 Well, I be d ! Is that all you have to say ? " 
 Both of these fathers then relapsed into silence, one to brood 
 over the prospect of a disgrace to his name, the other to pray 
 silently to Almighty God that his son may come out of this 
 entanglement with his name untarnished. 
 Thus we leave them to their own thoughts. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 'HEN it became known throughout the College that 
 Abe Overley had been suspended, supposedly for 
 the larceny of his friend's meerschaum pipe, upon 
 the statement of Buck Lashum and Bloxum, feeling ran 
 very high. 
 
 The Oberlin College Bulletin contained the following edi- 
 torial comment: 
 
 " It is with regret we announce the suspension of Mr. Abra- 
 ham Overley for the supposed larceny of a pipe belonging to 
 his friend and classmate, Mr. Malcolm A. Overley, both of 
 these young men residents of the State of Alabama. 
 
 "It appears that Mr. Malcolm Overley was the owner of a 
 very old and valuable meerschaum pipe. This pipe was stolen 
 the night of November 10th. 
 
 "It appears further that Mr. Buck Lashum and Mr. 
 Squealer Bloxum saw Mr. Abraham Overley, with the pipe 
 in question half up his coat sleeve, passing through the hall 
 to the room of Mr. William Forbes. 
 
 "It also appears that Mr. Abraham Overley, when ques- 
 tioned by Dr. Finley, absolutely refused to state where he 
 was the night of November 10th. Whereupon his suspension 
 followed. 
 
 "It does not appear that Mr. Abraham Overley was given 
 a chance to explain his having the pipe in his possession, if 
 he had it, as claimed by the two gentlemen named. 
 
 "We feel that a grave mistake has been made and that Mr. 
 Overley has been done a great injustice." 
 
 When this issue of the Bulletin reached Mr. George Billings 
 Donewell he forwarded a marked copy to his daughter Mabel, 
 which copy caused a sensation among her New York friends. 
 
 "Why, Mabel," said one, "who would have thought he 
 could!" 
 
 "Oh, I cannot believe him guilty ! ' ' exclaimed another. 
 
 "Mabel, I thought you said he was such a gentleman?" said 
 a third young lady. 
 
 97 
 
98 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "What can he mean by refusing to say where he was?'* 
 asked another friend. 
 
 "Why, girls," said Miss Scott, "November 10th is the date 
 of the night he was at Mabel's house with Miss Watson, and 
 sang so lovely." 
 
 "Oh! I see the whole thing now," said Miss Mabel Done- 
 well. "He was at my house, and will not say so because he 
 hasn't our permission." 
 
 "Of course that is the night, because that was Jennie's 
 birthday." 
 
 "What can we do about it?" asked Miss Chiswell. 
 
 "Let us see papa," said Miss Mary Chiswell; "show him 
 this paper and ask his advice. We are the cause of his embar- 
 rassment. ' ' 
 
 After Mr. Chiswell had read the editorial and all the sur- 
 rounding circumstances had been explained to him, he advised 
 that the young ladies go to Oberlin and state the whole case to 
 Dr. Finley. He advised further that they start immediately. 
 
 Preparing themselves with incredible speed, we soon find 
 the girls on a train due to arrive in Oberlin at 8.30 p. m. that 
 night. Upon their arrival in Oberlin they hastened to the 
 residence of Dr. Finley, where they found him in consultation 
 with the members of the faculty concerning this very case. 
 When the girls were announced he was at a loss to understand 
 this unusual visit. Miss Mabel Donewell made plain the 
 object, however, stating how she happened to know of this 
 trouble and where she and her friends were when they heard 
 of it. 
 
 When she had completed her statement, the Doctor sent 
 for Malcolm. 
 
 "Mr. Overley," said the Doctor, "I have just learned that 
 Abraham Overley was at the home of a young lady who has 
 been out of town and that you knew that he was there. Is 
 that a fact?" 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 99 
 
 "Yes, sir/' said Malcolm. "But I have given Abe my 
 word not to mention his whereabouts unless the other party 
 so directs. I hope you will not question me further." 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I appreciate your position and will see what 
 I can do to gain you that permission." 
 
 Thereupon he instructed his secretary to bring to him the 
 lady who was in waiting. When Malcolm saw Miss Donewell 
 enter the room he started up wtih a look that betrayed his 
 feelings. He extended both hands to her, saying: 
 
 ' ' Thank God, you have come ! I knew you would. I know 
 now that Abe will soon be reinstated. I am very glad to 
 see you." 
 
 Miss Donewell colored very deeply and drew back, as if she 
 feared Malcolm would crush her in his eagerness. 
 
 "Miss Donewell," said the Doctor, with a merry twinkle in 
 his eye, "will you give Mr. Overley leave to say where his 
 friend was on the night of November 10th?" 
 
 ' ' Of course I will, Doctor. Mr. Overley, you may say that 
 Mr. Abraham Overley was at my home on this night, and all 
 else you may know about this affair that pertains to me." 
 
 Malcolm immediately started into a complete recital of the 
 whole story, stating that it was November 9th that Abe had 
 the pipe in the hall; also stating Abe's reason for not saying 
 where he was the night of November 10th, to all of which the 
 Doctor and faculty listened very attentively. After Malcolm 
 had finished the narration, the Doctor instructed him to have 
 Abe come to him at once, and that he would impose the further 
 burden (?) upon him of seeing the young ladies home. The 
 Doctor also instructed his secretary to go for Lashum and 
 Bloxum, telling him to keep them in the library until he sent 
 for them. 
 
 He then suggested to the Dean that he thought it advisable 
 to search Lashum 's room. The Dean, together with two other 
 members of the faculty, proceeded to make the search, which 
 resulted in finding the pipe at the bottom of Lashum 's trunk. 
 
100 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 The Dean took the pipe, wrapped very closely, to Dr. Finley's 
 office. 
 
 When Abe reached the Doctor's office he expected to hear 
 that he was expelled. His surprise was very great when told 
 that the whole affair had been cleared up, so far as he was 
 concerned, and that the announcement of his reinstatement 
 would be made in the most public manner next morning in 
 the Chapel, just after devotional exercises. The Doctor and 
 other members of the faculty then shook Abe's hand very 
 cordially and bade him good night. The Doctor had been 
 informed as to how and where the Dean had found the pipe, 
 so, after a short discussion, it was thought best to interview 
 Bloxum first. When Bloxum came into the room, the pipe 
 was on the table in full view, and when he saw it he staggered 
 to a chair and dropped upon it. He knew that trouble was 
 in store for him. True to his nature, he resolved to put the 
 blame on Buck. Dr. Finley did not question him at once, 
 but kept looking at the pipe, waiting for Bloxum to be the 
 first to say something concerning it. Bloxum was wary and 
 did not betray himself. Finally, the Doctor turned suddenly 
 to the Dean and said: 
 
 ' 'Dean Sternly, where did you say you found this pipe?" 
 
 ' ' I found it in Mr. Buck Lashum 's trunk, ' ' was his response. 
 
 "Mr. Bloxum, how came this pipe to be there?" asked the 
 Doctor. "I hope you will see fit to tell me the whole truth 
 about this matter." 
 
 "I did not put it there. I told Buck to let it alone," was 
 Bloxum 's answer. 
 
 "Now, tell us the entire circumstance," said the Doctor. 
 
 Bloxum said that he and Lashum and a few others were 
 passing through the hall the night before Buck got the pipe 
 and they saw Abe with it. Buck said: "Let's get that pipe 
 and put it on Abe," but Bloxum advised him to let it alone. 
 Buck insisted. Buck alone did the whole thing. All Bloxum 
 did was to say that he saw Abe with the pipe, which was true. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 101 
 
 After this remarkable statement, the Doctor sent for Buck. 
 When Buck saw the pipe on the table he became sullen at once. 
 
 "Mr. Lashum, do you know where that pipe was?" asked 
 the Doctor. 
 
 "No, I do not," said Buck. 
 
 "It was found in your trunk," said the Doctor. 
 
 "I didn't put it there," said Buck; "nor do I know how it 
 got there." 
 
 "Have a care, Mr. Lashum," said the Doctor; "I have a 
 statement from one who claims to know all about this affair. ' ' 
 The Doctor then read the statement made by Bloxum. Buck 
 thought a moment, then concluded that Bloxum must have 
 "squealed" on him. 
 
 ' ' Well, I won 't say nothin ', because I don 't know nothin ', ' ' 
 said Buck, and moved toward the door. 
 
 "Do not be in a hurry, Mr. Lashum," said the Doctor. I 
 want to know whether or not this statement is true." 
 
 "No, it ain't true," said Buck. 
 
 At a sign from the Doctor, Bloxum was brought in the 
 room again and his statement was read to him. 
 
 "Mr. Bloxum," said the Doctor, "is this statement true?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, it is true; every word of it," was Bloxum 's 
 answer. 
 
 Buck glared at him for a moment, then said: 
 
 ' ' So you are trying to put this whole thing on me, are you ? 
 Well, you won't. Didn't you tell me how to fix that 
 ' nigger '- 
 
 "Mr. Lashum," interrupted the Doctor, "you will use 
 nothing but proper language here. You will withdraw that 
 word." 
 
 ' ' Well, Bloxum told me how to get even with Abe. He told 
 me to get the pipe and hide it and say that Abe stole it, and 
 that we saw him with it, and that the boys would not know 
 what night it was. Now, he tries to put the job on me. I 
 ain't af eared to say what I did. I'm white, I am." 
 
102 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 After Buck had finished, Bloxum began to remark that Buck 
 knew better; that he advised against the whole thing all the 
 way through; but he was cut short by the Doctor, who said 
 that their cases would be disposed of that night and that 
 the conclusion would be announced next morning at the 
 Chapel exercises. 
 
 Dr. Finley, after a prayer next morning, in which he asked 
 Almighty God to watch and protect the school and those in 
 the school who were weighted down with troubles and sorrows, 
 and those who were about to leave the school and who would 
 need His constant care, said he had two duties to perform, one 
 a pleasant, the other a very disagreeable duty. 
 
 First, that the faculty, after new facts had come to 
 light, had unanimously agreed to reinstate Mr. Abraham 
 Overley, who had been suspended pending the finding of Mr. 
 Malcolm Overley 's pipe and the investigation as to his where- 
 abouts the night the pipe was stolen. He said it gave him 
 great pleasure to state that the investigation disclosed that 
 Mr. Overley was not guilty in any sense of the word. He, 
 therefore, withdrew the suspension and hoped that all the 
 students would understand that no suspicion whatever rested 
 on Mr. Overley. This announcement was met by the yell that 
 only College boys know. Abe was the hero of the hour. The 
 Doctor's manner then changed. He said the investigation also 
 led to the discovery of a case of criminal conspiracy. He 
 stated that it was discovered that two students had conspired 
 to rob another of his good name by lying about him, and gave 
 the complete details of the affair, after which he announced 
 that the faculty had dismissed Mr. Buck Lashum and Mr. 
 Squealer Bloxum. The boys arose to their feet looking for 
 Buck and Bloxum; but they had been notified of the action 
 of the faculty and were not present. These young men were 
 busy packing their belongings, Buck cursing and scoring 
 Bloxum as an ungrateful dog, Bloxum whining and crying, 
 not knowing where to get money to pay his fare home. When 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 103 
 
 the Doctor's announcement was made that Buck and Bloxum 
 were dismissed there was a moment of silence ; then there burst 
 forth a perfect volcano of cat calls, hisses and groans. When 
 the noise had ceased, the Doctor dismissed the students. Out 
 on the campus a party surrounded Malcolm and Abe and 
 wanted Abe to tell where he was that night and all about 
 the case, but Abe still refused to say a word about his where- 
 abouts, remarking that if one visit caused all this talk and 
 trouble, what would ten visits cause? As DeVaux and his 
 friend passed out of the Chapel the Tennesseean remarked : 
 * ' That was undoubtedly the dirtiest trick I ever heard of. ' ' 
 "DeVaux, what do you think of such people ?" 
 "Well, I am sure I don't know. They just deliberately 
 stole that pipe and accused somebody else of the theft, thereby 
 bringing other people into it as witnesses, ' ' answered De Vaux. 
 "These fellows must feel cheap now." 
 "I am glad they are gone." 
 
 The next issue of the College Bulletin contained a full 
 account of the affair. Malcolm mailed one to his father and 
 also a letter to Abe's father, asking pardon for causing him 
 unnecessary worry and trouble. 
 
CHAPTEE XVIII. 
 
 ELOXUM, unlike Buck, had no cash upon which to draw 
 to procure a ticket for his home trip. He was, there- 
 fore, compelled to write his father for the necessary 
 funds. What should he write? How was he to explain his 
 expulsion ? After much thought, Bloxum concluded he would 
 write his father at length, explaining that he had brought 
 trouble upon himself in an endeavor to protect a Negro by 
 the name of Overley, forgetting that his father received the 
 Oberlin Bulletin. In due course Bloxum received the bare 
 amount necessary to procure his ticket, unaccompanied by 
 either letter or comment. He left by a night train, well 
 knowing that no boy in the school would be sorry to see him 
 leave. Bloxum 's father concluded to express himself to his 
 son in person. 
 
 After writing home that Abe Overley had lied on him, that 
 Abe had stolen a pipe and put it in his (Buck's) trunk, Buck 
 declared that he was coming home. Oberlin was no place for 
 him. A " nigger's" word there is better than a white man's. 
 Buck also forgot that the Bulletin was sent to his home ; but he 
 was more fortunate than Bloxum. Nick Lashum, Sr., could 
 not read and was kept in ignorance of those things which the 
 family did not desire him to know. Buck concluded he would 
 visit friends in Elmyra and Cleveland before he started home. 
 He found himself stranded in Cleveland, however. Upon 
 receiving a telegram from Buck, his brother immediately tele- 
 graphed him the necessary amount to procure a ticket. When 
 Buck arrived home his father wanted to know about the affair 
 that led to his homecoming, inasmuch as his brothers and sis- 
 ters had been careful not to inform Nick, Sr., that his son had 
 been expelled from College. He, therefore, launched into a 
 long story as to how he happend to be home. In the first 
 place, Oberlin was no place for a white man, anyhow. "Nig- 
 
 104 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 105 
 
 gers" were more thought of than white men. "Niggers" had 
 all the privileges of the school ; they stood at the head of some 
 of the classes; they went about with white women. A "nig- 
 ger ' ' was the captain of the College baseball team. ' ' Niggers ' ' 
 sat at the same table with him. Taken on the whole, he could 
 not understand how he managed to live through it all. He, 
 as you may know, had a very sympathetic audience. 
 
 After he had finished his narrative, Arabella innocently 
 remarked : 
 
 "Buck, it was awful mean of them to expel you just for 
 that." 
 
 "What's that?" asked Nick, Sr., with a blaze of wrath. 
 "Why the damnation hain't yer tol' me that 'fore now? 
 What yer mean by not tellin ' me what I aughter know ? D 
 if I don 't pull yer lyin ' tongue outen yer haid ! ' ' 
 
 Suiting the acts to the words, Nick, Sr., made a move toward 
 his son, but Buck was on the alert and soon put a safe distance 
 between himself and his irate parent. 
 
 "Never yer min', yer ungrateful dorg! Jes' yer put yer 
 foot in this hyre house again an go 'way Arabella, yer leetle 
 hussy, think I'm goin' to let thet air boy run my house? 
 Doggon ef I don't fix him, yo'll see." 
 
 Buck, in his haste to get out of his father's reach ran to 
 the cabin of Black Sue, who was sitting before the door 
 smoking a pipe a habit common among the Negro women 
 among her class. 
 
 "Lor', chile, what's de mattah?" she asked, noticing his 
 haste and frightened look. "Sho' yo' pappy 's not arter you 
 'gin so soon?" 
 
 "Yes," said Buck, "and he swears he will kill me if he 
 catches me." 
 
 Black Sue insisted that he should tell her about the trouble, 
 thinking something had happened which caused him to return 
 before the end of the school year. Negroes of this class could 
 always be depended upon to know all, even to the smallest 
 
106 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 details, that transpired at the Big House. Black Sue was no 
 exception to this rule. After Buck had related his version 
 of why he was expelled, this virtuous ( ?) person was consumed 
 with wrath. She regarded Buck thoughtfully for some 
 moments, then remarked : 
 
 * * Chile, I know jes ' how to git eben wid dem Overleys. Ole 
 Mai Overley and Ole Abe and de rest ob dem men is gone to 
 take dey grain to de boat. Dey won't be back till day arter 
 'morrow. Yo' kin kotch dat gal ob Ole Abe's what puts on 
 so many airs jes' kase she kin read and write, and dat ole 
 mammy ob hern stealin' bacon outen yo' pappy 's meat house. 
 I dun kotch dem onct. Den yo' kin gib dem a good noggin'." 
 
 Buck knew only too well the purport of this statement. He 
 saw very readily that he could rehabilitate himself in the good 
 graces of his father by this means. He therefore immediately 
 sent one of Black Sue's boys after the Smalys and Warde- 
 mans, upon whom he could depend. It was agreed in the 
 council that followed that at 11 p. m. the next night they 
 were to assemble and go quietly to the cabin of the Overleys, 
 take the two women out and flog them. At the appointed 
 time these representative citizens met at the place designated 
 and proceeded to the cabin, where they found these lone 
 women. 
 
 The daughter was engaged in reading the Bible to her 
 mother, as she had been accustomed to do for years past, just 
 before retiring. Jack Smaly burst the door open and with an 
 oath demanded to know where the bacon was they had stolen 
 from Mr. Lashum's meathouse. The daughter, who was a 
 very spirited girl, arose to her feet, saying that they knew she 
 nor her mother had stolen nothing. Jack dealt the girl a blow 
 with his fist that felled her to the floor. The mother, in trying 
 to prevent this assault, was knocked down by one of the Warde- 
 mans. They were both then seized, bound, and taken back 
 into the orchard, stripped bare to the waist by these "Alabama 
 gentlemen" (?), who proceeded to administer with a leather 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 107 
 
 horse-trace nine and thirty lashes on their bare backs. At 
 the first blow, the mother, old and feeble, fainted and hung 
 by the thongs that bound her to the tree. No thought of pity 
 for her; no hand was raised to stay the sickening blows that 
 fell upon her emaciated body; no word of warning that her 
 life was being taken ; nothing but curses and blows were multi- 
 plied upon her, until her brutal lynchers stopped from sheer 
 exhaustion. The daughter begged that the mother be spared, 
 but was answered by a blow that loosened several teeth. The 
 trace was applied to the now perfectly nude body of the 
 unfortunate girl, until she, too, hung limp and apparently 
 lifeless, subjected to the vile remarks and jeers of these merci- 
 less wretches. At this moment Buck's brother, Nick, Jr., 
 arrived on the scene. He, though a Lashum, did not approve 
 of such deeds. He went at once to the old woman and cut her 
 loose, thinking she would be glad to get away, but she fell to 
 the ground. After bending over her for a moment, he said: 
 ' ' You fellows have raised h now, haven 't you ? You have 
 killed this old woman. " 
 
 He then went to the daughter and found her almost lifeless. 
 Some of the Negro women from the nearby cabins were called 
 and they took the girl to her cabin, where she died before 
 morning. This drunken mob, now sobered by the realization 
 of the enormity of their crime, began to move away, leaving 
 their victims dead and dying. 
 
 Sheriff Joe Wheatley was notified of this tragedy by some 
 of the Negroes and was soon upon the scene. He learned 
 from them that the deed was committed by Buck Lashum 's 
 gang. The Sheriff immediately put Buck and his cronies, 
 the Wardemans and the Smalys, under arrest. The Coroner 
 also soon arrived. When he learned that Buck and his friends 
 were under arrest, charged with murder of these women, he 
 impanelled a jury at once, to determine the innocence of these 
 young men. Testimony was adduced from the Negroes that 
 should have been strong enough to hold the prisoners for the 
 
108 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 action of the Grand Jury, but three white men, who were late 
 in arriving at the scene of action, swore they passed the 
 prisoners five miles back on the road, going in an opposite 
 direction from the scene of the tragedy at the time of its 
 occurrence, which testimony was of sufficient weight, in the 
 opinion of the jury, to justify them in bringing in a verdict 
 declaring that the women came to their deaths at the hands 
 of parties unknown to the jury, probably the result of a fight 
 among the Negroes on the Overley place, Malcolm A. Oberley 
 not being home to preserve order. All this in the face of the 
 fact that these men were in the custody of the Sheriff at the 
 time the three citizens swore they were on the road. 
 
 The ability to reason in a Negro's favor is not an accom- 
 plishment characteristic of an Alabama jury. The Coroner 
 ordered the discharge of the prisoners. 
 
 After a consultation with the State's Attorney, Sheriff 
 Wheatley rearrested Buck and his friends, and they were 
 held by Judge Wiggles under heavy bond to await the action 
 of the Grand Jury. 
 
 Old Abe and Malcolm A. Overley learned of the double 
 tragedy before they reached home. Old Abe, completely pros- 
 trated, lay in the bottom of a wagon moaning and praying 
 to God. Malcolm A. Overley, as soon as he learned of what 
 had happened, lashed his horses into a furious gallop and was 
 soon dashing along the road toward his home like a madman. 
 As he passed his neighbors they gazed at him in his mad 
 flight, fearful for his life. When he finally reached home his 
 rage was beyond control. 
 
 For two days Malcolm A. Overley rode the country with 
 his gun, looking for some person to shoot who was concerned 
 in the murder of these women. But no man came his way, 
 however, and he was finally persuaded by Big Joe Wheatley 
 and others to return to his home. For six weeks following 
 this old man's soul hovered between its prison and the bound- 
 less beyond. When Malcolm A. Overley finally regained his 
 
AS WE SEE, IT. 109 
 
 strength and took his accustomed place with Old Abe on the 
 veranda, where for two generations they were wont to smoke 
 and talk, the altered appearance of each was so noticeable that 
 the old men sat for a long time gazing at each other. Finally, 
 Malcolm A. Oberley said: 
 
 "Abe, what the h are you staring at me that way for? 
 Have you never seen me before ? D your black hide, do you 
 think I am a ghost?" 
 
 "Yes, sah, yo' is de ghost of yo'se'f. But, sah, will yo' 
 nebber 'member dat de Lawd is more pow 'f ul den we is ? Will 
 yo' nebber 'member dat His Will mus' be done? My ole 
 'oman dat's daid an' gone, she say dat she will die happy 
 when she know dat yo' done gin yo' heart to God. Now, she 
 done pass 'way, an' yo' air still outen de Lawd's fold. Yo' 
 jes' come through de Valley ob de Shadow ob Death an' yo' 
 is not changed yet. I dun stop prayin' fo' my ole 'oman an' 
 my gal, kase I know day is in glory. I'se prayin' fo' yo'. 
 When I see how nigh de grave yo' " 
 
 "Why, Abe, who the h told you how near the grave I am? 
 You old l niggers' think that you know as much about the 
 Lord's business as He Himself knows. Where did you get 
 the idea that I am nearer the grave than any other man of 
 my age?" 
 
 "Hab yo' forgot so soon dat yo' jus' earned outen yo' sick 
 bade? Dat de doctors say yo' mus' die, an' " 
 
 "Oh, d the doctors! They tried to kill me. Old Cleo, 
 she brought me out. But, Abe, what will we do when my boy 
 and your boy learn the truth ? ' ' 
 
 "God am my hepper, I dunno. I pray God my Abe may 
 nebber learn de truth." 
 
 After Old Abe had expressed himself as not knowing what 
 to do, Malcolm A. Overley seemed lost in thought. 
 
 "Abe," he said, "what will the Grand Jury do with those 
 d beasts ? Si Weedles foreman of the Grand Jury ! What 
 the h has this country come to? Poor white trash! A 
 
110 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 hound like that foreman of the Grand Jury ! I tell you, Abe, 
 if that Grand Jury does not indict that bunch of murderers I 
 shall take my gun and kill the whole d crowd. What are 
 you shaking your head about? D your black hide, you 
 haven't the courage of a flea. What are you going to do? 
 Let them go scot free? Well, just you wait until that boy 
 of yours comes back here ; then you will wake up. D if he 
 don 't fix matters. ' ' 
 
 "God forbid my po' boy come back heah wid he heart full 
 of murder an' vengeance. No, he urns' nebber know how he 
 po' mudder an' sister done die. I hopes, sah, yo' will nebber 
 tell him." 
 
 At this point Big Joe Wheatley, Jim Connors and several 
 more of Malcolm A. Overley's friends, together with the good 
 minister, rode up to the house. Old Abe called some of the 
 boys to look after the horses. 
 
 "Malcolm," said Big Joe Wheatley, "tomorrow the Grand 
 Jury will sit on those cases ; already they are bragging that it 
 will not indict. I do not think myself that it will. But what 
 can we do? At times I feel like taking my gun and killing 
 the whole crowd." 
 
 "I can but feel that that will be the only way in which 
 this thing can ever be settled," said Jim Connors. 
 
 "Why, of course, that is the way," replied Malcolm A. 
 Overley. "D their dirty hides! I have said so all along. 
 I just told Abe that if the Grand Jury did not indict them, I 
 would indict, try and execute them, too. H ! They deserve 
 to die." 
 
 "But, my brothers," interposed the good minister, "that 
 would be murder. Two wrongs will not make one right. Still, 
 when one considers the wickedness of this deed, the wanton 
 brutality attending the crime, there may be some excuse. 
 should the passions and desire for revenge, common to all 
 human beings, get beyond control. My brothers 
 
 "May de good God Almighty keep yo' gemmen from letten 7 
 
AS WE SEE IT. Ill 
 
 yo' passions get 'yon' control/' interrupted Old Abe. "Ef 
 yo' does Venge yo'se'f on dese people, an' take dey life, yo' 
 souls will be los'. Dar will be no 'scuse fo' yo'. I'se de one 
 dat is most hurted. I dun forgin dese people. Why yo' 
 gemmen not do de same? God grant dat yo' will not 'pen' 
 on any 'scuse an' cubber yo' hands wid blood." 
 
 Old Abe made these observations solemnly and with all the 
 simple eloquence peculiar to his class. Abe's rebuke to this 
 man of God was apparent to all. It put a stop to all further 
 discussion along those lines. 
 
 Upon the following day the Grand Jury met and consid- 
 ered the case. After hearing the three white men, who tes- 
 tified before the Coroner's Jury, together with the Negroes 
 who witnessed the murders, Buck and his friends were dis- 
 charged, an alibi having been established. 
 
 The following was found next day in the County Bulletin: 
 
 * * Messrs. Buck Lashum, Rex and Tom Wardeman, Jack and 
 Jirn Smaly were yesterday discharged by the Grand Jury, 
 they having been held by Judge Wiggles in $30,000 bond each, 
 charged with the murder of two 'nigger wenches' on the 
 Overley plantation. The time has not yet come for white 
 men to be tried for killing l niggers'." 
 
 And thus the matter ended. 
 
 Malcolm A. Overley and his friends were compelled to bow 
 to what seemed to be the inevitable. The Grand Jury exon- 
 erated the men who killed these women. The County Bulletin 
 had passed editorially on the killings. The case passed into 
 history. Malcolm A. Overley was called from his bitter 
 thoughts by a communication notifying him that his mortgage 
 would be due in thirty days, and that it must be paid in full. 
 The money was not available. What was he to do? After a 
 long consultation with his friends it was decided to ask the 
 bank for eight months' extension of time. 
 
 When the proposition was submitted to Nick Lashum he 
 
112 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 denounced the "big bug," saying that now he had him and 
 he was going to sell him out. But the officials of the bank 
 were not of Nick's opinion. The time had not come for the 
 mortgage to be foreclosed. They prevailed upon him to with- 
 hold his vengeance for a few months. The extension was 
 obtained and it was placed upon record, and thus the matter 
 was settled for the time being. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 'HEN Nick Lashum, Sr., learned that Buck and his 
 friends had been arrested by Sheriff Wheatley, 
 charged with the murder of the Overley women, 
 his wrath knew no bounds. 
 
 "What the h yer think of them 'big bugs' 'restin' white 
 men fer 'niggers'! D if I don't git even. Yo'll see. Go 
 they bail? In course I will. I don't kere a d ef it's a 
 hundred thousand. They is good boys, an' them 'niggers' 
 was stealin' my bacon. Serve 'em right." 
 
 Thus commented Nick, Sr., when requested to offer himself 
 as bondsman for the murderers. When Buck was questioned 
 by his father as to his knowledge of the theft of the bacon, he 
 said Black Sue first told him that the women were stealing 
 from the meathouse ; in fact, that she had caught them in the 
 very act. He then determined to watch and see for himself, 
 and he and his friends caught the women red-handed. Buck 
 told these lies without a tremor, without a blush. His father, 
 already convinced that a "nigger will steal," only needed to 
 hear such a statement to convince him that the women were 
 guilty of stealing his meat. It mattered not to him that no 
 bacon was missing, nor that the meathouse showed no signs of 
 having been tampered with. 
 
 "Wall, boy, youse in a pretty fix, now, ain't you? 'Cused 
 of killing' nigger wenches'. Yo' brother he say youse a dis- 
 grace to the family. Wall, all I got ter say is, I'se on yer 
 bon', an' no Grand Jury will 'diet yer, an' no harm will come 
 ter yer. Yo' tell Old Sue I wants her ter come hy re; I want 
 ter see her." 
 
 Buck was glad of the opportunity to get Old Sue to talk 
 with his father. He hurried to Sue's cabin, where he found 
 her dozing by the door, with her corncob pipe in her lap. 
 
 ' ' Sue, pappy wants to see yer. He wants to ask yer about 
 
 113 
 
114 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 them Overley 'niggers'. I told him what yer told me and 
 what I see them 'niggers' do myself." 
 
 "Yer tell yo' pappy I'se got no time ter was' wid him. Yo' 
 tell yo ' pappy dat I 'se to home. ' ' 
 
 "But, Sue, pappy says 
 
 "Go 'long, boy. What I car' what yo' pappy say. Yo' tell 
 him I'se to home." And she laughed at her own cleverness. 
 
 Buck went back to his father and told him that Sue was 
 sulky, but she would be up to the house in a few minutes. 
 Nick waited more than an hour for Sue, and then went in 
 search of her himself. He found her where Buck had left 
 her, sitting beside her cabin, smoking. 
 
 "Sue," said Nick, with a great show of wrath, "why the 
 h don 't yer come when I send f er yer ? Do yer 
 
 "Look out, white man!" exclaimed Sue, interrupting Nick 
 with kindling anger. "Dose yer know who yo' is talkin' at? 
 I'se telled yo' fo' now dat I don't 'low no white man ter talk 
 ter me dat way. Yo' jes' mod 'rate yo' tune ef yo' wants me 
 ter talk ter yer. Now, what's yo' gwine say?" 
 
 "Sue, I wants the facts 'bout them 'niggers' of Overleys. " 
 said. Nick, meekly. "Buck tells me thet yer caught 'em in 
 my meathouse. Is thet so?" 
 
 "Say, man, ef Buck tell yo' dat, what yo' ax me fer; ain't 
 dat 'nough?" answered Sue, with great dignity. 
 
 "Yes; but, Sue, I wants ter know what yer did see. Ain't 
 yer never goin' ter 1'arn to act lek a lady ? D ef I ever seed 
 a woman lek yer. Yer never keeps yer word with nobody." 
 
 Nick said this very meekly, careful not to anger Black Sue 
 further. 
 
 "Keep my word!" yelled Sue. "Yo's a nice one ter tell 
 folks 'bout keepin' dey word. Does yo' 'member dat yo' 
 promised me er greenback mor'n six mon? Yo's a nice one, 
 I swar Man, yo' go long. I tells yo' nuttin'." 
 
 After Sue made this speech she lighted her pipe, closed her 
 eyes and seemed to forget that Nick was in existence. Nick 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 115 
 
 observed her for some moments, well knowing that it would be 
 useless to question her further. He took from his pocket a 
 roll of bills, from which he selected a dollar, saying in a very 
 kind voice: 
 
 "Sue, I'se glad yer called my min' to that ar' dollar; 
 hyer's hit. Yer's rnor'n welcome. I'd er gin hit ter yer 
 'fore now had yer sade the word." 
 
 Sue eyed the money for a moment ; then she reached for it 
 with all the eagerness of a vulture swooping down on a carcass 
 of carrion. As soon as she obtained possession of the money 
 she resumed her pipe, and her silence in the most aggravating 
 manner. Nick noted from Sue's attitude that she did not 
 intend to talk, but he thought he would try again. 
 
 "Sue, what did yer say 'bout them Overley 'niggers'? I 
 wants ter know." 
 
 "Wai, ef yo' wants ter know, yo' knows how ter find out," 
 answered Sue, and she resumed her pipe with the same exas- 
 perating indifference. 
 
 Nick knew only too well that Sue meant to make him pay 
 her to talk. He thought, however, he \vould try persuasion. 
 
 "Sue," he said, very kindly, "yer is the on'est gal on this 
 whole place thet T kin pen' on. Yer is the on'est one thet 
 ever watches my stuff, thet keers 'nuff 'bout me ter study 
 ray interest. I gives yer credit fer thet. An' " 
 
 "Yes, an I'se de onl'est one dat yo' nebber gins nut-tin* 
 to; I tells yo' dat. I studies yo' good and gits nuttin' fer 
 hit. I isn't gwine to do it no mo'," interrupted Sue. 
 
 "Wall, Sue, did yer ever tell me thet yer felt thet way. 
 Why, in course yer didn't. How's I going ter know thet yer 
 be dissatis' onless yer say so. Say, ole gal, yer tek this," 
 handing her another dollar bill, "an' brace up an' feel lek 
 yer did in them days when 1 uster buy yer them bright caliker 
 dresses. I tell yer, Sue, in them days yer was the bes' lookin' 
 gal in all the county. Lor ', how the bucks uster run arter yer 
 ontil I thought they was too fresh, and then I would make 
 
116 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 'em cut lines. Them was good ole days, Sue; now, warn't 
 they?" 
 
 ''Yes, dey war," answered Sue; "but yo' gin me mor' in 
 a mont' in dem days den yo' gin me now in er yeah. Dat yo' 
 did. What dat yo ' ax me now 'bout dem stuck-up ' niggers ' ? " 
 
 "Yer is right, Sue; them is stuck-up 'niggers'. They never 
 did lek yer nor yer pickaninnies. I jes' wants ter know what 
 yer kotch 'em doin ' ? " said Nick. 
 
 "Wall, de trut' am, dat I hain't kotch dem doin' nuttin' 
 I jes' see dem crossin' de lot down by de smokehouse. Dat am 
 all. Now, I tells dat ter yo' Buck, an' he put de res' ter hit. 
 Dem 'niggers' war stuck up, but dey warn't de kind dat 
 steals. Dem was hones' 'niggers,' dey war." 
 
 Black Sue knew the truthfulness of this statement and 
 watched very closely for its effect on Nick. She noticed that 
 he was startled and became nervous. 
 
 She remarked that she knew a "heap 'bout what dey war 
 doin' de night of de troubles." 
 
 * ' Sue, ole gal, ' ' said Nick, ' ' I wants ter know all 'bout thet 
 d row. Hyre tek this an' git yerse'f a nice caliker dress," 
 handing her a five-dollar bill, which he did not notice in his 
 excitement; "now, tell me 'bout hit." 
 
 "Wall, all I knows is, dat dem boys follow dem 'niggers' to 
 dey cabin an ' tek dem outen hit an ' say dey had been stealin ' 
 yo' bacon. Den dey flog dem and dey die. Dat is the trut. 
 so hep me God." 
 
 Nick stood looking at Sue with a mind to strike her, but his 
 good judgment, together with the knowledge of his former 
 experiences, deterred him. He said finally: 
 
 "All yer d 'niggers' is jes' alek," and departed in high 
 dudgeon. Black Sue laughed to herself, remarking that she 
 "warn't goin' ter hab all de 'niggers' arter her an' her ehil- 
 lern on' dey 'count. Dem women my color, an' I'se goin' ter 
 stan' by dem." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 117 
 
 As Nick moved off toward the house he soliloquized: 
 "Wall, thet do beat h . Thet 'nigger wench' is clean 
 outen my hearin'? tek my money an' not tell me nuttin' 
 I'll sho git even. Yo'll see. When thet Grand Jury meets 
 we is got ter 'pend on dem white men an' Ole Si. I dunno 
 what we would do widouten him. ' ' 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ALCOLM and Abe had been informed that Abe's 
 mother and sister Lucy had died very suddenly, 
 and that there was trouble on the plantation 
 because of their deaths; also, that it was advisable for them 
 not to come home, as they would arrive too late for their 
 burials. Abe was prostrated. He could not understand why 
 he had not been telegraphed at once. Malcolm, Forbes and 
 Rattles were unusually kind to him, which only augmented his 
 uneasiness. Forbes was careful to keep the newspapers from 
 him. It was soon known about the College, however, that 
 Abe's mother and sister had been lynched and that Buck 
 Lashum and his friends were under arrest, charged with their 
 murder. How to keep the truth from Abe longer was the 
 all-absorbing question before the three friends. While dis- 
 cussing ways and means to keep Abe in ignorance of the 
 manner of his mother's and sister's death, Malcolm, Forbes 
 and Rattles were surprised in Rattles room by Abe, just as 
 Rattles remarked, * * I tell you, fellows, Abe should have been 
 told at first." 
 
 Abe heard the latter part of this remark as he entered the 
 room, 
 
 ' ' I should have been told what, fellows ? " he asked. 
 
 The three boys were so surprised by Abe's appearance that 
 they betrayed themselves. Abe noticed their confusion. 
 
 1 'Say, fellows, what is this conspiracy? Why, what is the 
 matter ? " he asked, as no one appeared to be willing to answer 
 him. Abe observed them carefully, apparently reading their 
 very thoughts. Finally, he sank upon a chair and said: 
 
 "Malcolm, tell me about my mother. You fellows know 
 more about her death than I do. " 
 
 Abe made this request in such a pitiful, heartrending way 
 
 118 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 119 
 
 that Malcolm turned from him to hied his tears. Rattles 
 remarked : 
 
 "Abe, I am afraid you stay in your room too much; come 
 with me to the campus. ' ' 
 
 Abe permitted himself to be led from the room by Rattles, 
 who said to Forbes: "Tell DeVaux and his friend to meet us 
 down on the campus." 
 
 Soon Rattles and Abe were joined by Malcolm and Forbes, 
 together with the other young men. As soon as Abe saw 
 Malcolm, he attempted to take him to one side and ask him 
 about the part of the conversation he had overheard in Rat- 
 tles 's room, feeling that he still had something to learn con- 
 cerning his mother's death. 
 
 Rattles noticed the movement and signaled DeVaux to 
 follow, which he did, remarking: "You fellows shall have no 
 secrets from the rest of us. Overley, tell us about this sad 
 affair." 
 
 "No, I cannot," said Malcolm; "your friend here has kept 
 in touch with the case ; let him tell you. ' ' 
 
 Abe was conscious of the solemn manner in which Malcolm 
 spoke ; also of the solemn faces about him. He sank upon the 
 ground in an attitude that College boys know well, and said: 
 
 "Fellows, I am ready to be crucified." 
 
 The Tennesseean began by saying: "Overly, you may be 
 crucified before I have related all that I know of this affair, 
 but you must bear up like a man. We employed a man to go 
 to your home to learn the facts. We learn that during your 
 father's absence your mother and sister were " 
 
 "Lynched!" yelled Abe, as he bounded to his feet and 
 grasped the Tennesseean by the shoulder in a grip that caused 
 him great pain, but which he bore without flinching. Abe's 
 manner and appearance were so changed that his friends 
 feared for his reason. His eyes bulged from their socket*, 
 they seemed to flash fire. He looked a full foot taller. His 
 hands worked convulsively. His neck was swollen. He did 
 
120 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 not seen to breathe. He looked the very incarnation of the 
 avenging demon. This Was a terrible tableau, lasting for 
 several moments. All stood looking at Abe in awe. They 
 were conscious he would wreak a terrible vengeance when his 
 time for vengeance came. Finally, Abe sat down and said : 
 
 "Fellows, I will listen, but I see the whole thing now. I 
 know that my mother and my sister were both killed. By 
 whom ? Why were they killed ? Why was I not told at once ? 
 Malcolm, why did you keep this from me all these weeks? 
 Their murderers may have escaped by this time." 
 
 "No, they are awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. They 
 are under heavy bonds," said the Tenesseean. 
 
 ' ' Who are these people ? Who are under bond ? ' ' asked Abe. 
 
 The Tennesseean answered after a moment's thought: 
 ' ' Buck Lashum, two Wardemans and two Smaly s. The Grand 
 Jury will hear their cases tomorrow. ' ' 
 
 After a long silence, Abe, as if speaking to himself, said: 
 
 "So, this is done to be avenged on me. Oh, my poor 
 mother ! I am the cause of your death ! Can there be a just 
 God ! Mother, so surely as you are dead, I will avenge you ! ' ' 
 
 The boys thought it best not to tell Abe, at this time, of the 
 manner in which his mother lost her life. So they slowly 
 returned to their rooms, Abe walking between Malcolm and 
 Rattles like one in a dream. When ihey reached the hall 
 DeVaux and his friend stopped; each extended a hand to 
 Abe, the Tennesseean remarking: 
 
 "Overley, I have said to you before that I am your friend. 
 I am still your friend. My services and my funds are at 
 your disposal; command me and them." 
 
 "Abe, I am with you to the same extent that my friend is; 
 command me," said DeVaux. 
 
 "I thank you both. Your God alone knows what I may 
 need!" exclaimed Abe. 
 
 The two young men then left Abe and his friends, as their 
 rooms were not in the same hall in which Abe 's and Malcolm 's 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 121 
 
 were; for they, true to their Southern blood, had, when they 
 first came to Oberlin, refused to live under the same roof with 
 Abe and the rest of the Negro students who were in this 
 building. When Abe and his friends reached his room there 
 was a long silence, which was broken by Malcolm saying : 
 
 "Abe, we all sympathize with you. What can we do to 
 help you in this matter?" 
 
 "I want to go home! I want to see my mother's grave! 
 Malcolm, why did you keep this from me?" he asked, and 
 then added : * ' Can there be a God ? Can there be a just God ? 
 Can there be laws to reach such people ? Can there be nothing 
 that governs the universe but the avenging demon?" 
 
 Abe had now risen to his feet, towering above his friends in 
 his rage. He called out again in his madness: 
 
 "If there be a demon; if there be a devil; if there be an 
 imp of hell; if there be a force that will turn blood to gall, 
 love to hate, good to bad come to me that I may feel thy full 
 force; come to me that I may forget that I arn human, until 
 I have avenged this wrong, perpetrated upon my mother and 
 sister! By all the imps of hell, this was done to be avenged 
 on me ! Oh, my poor mother ! I am the cause of your unnat- 
 ural death! By the God that made me, and with the aid of 
 the demons of hell, whose help I implore, I will be revenged ! 
 You hear me, fellows? I will be revenged!" 
 
 The three young men stood looking at Abe, conscious that 
 all that was human in him, all that was good in his nature, 
 had succumbed to the brute instinct of human nature for 
 revenge. Suddenly, Abe turned to Malcolm and demanded, 
 in a tone and with a look that Malcolm had never heard nor 
 seen before: 
 
 "Malcolm, why did you fellows keep this from me?" 
 
 Rattles, the only one who seemed to be able to cope with the 
 situation, said: 
 
 "Abe, stop a moment and consider. See the rage you are 
 in. You cannot govern yourself now. What would you have 
 
122 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 done at your home when all this excitement was on? You, 
 by yourself? We talked over the matter among ourselves. 
 Malcolm wanted to go home with you. He was ready to 
 place his life at your disposal. He argued that you should 
 avenge your mother's and sister's death. But he was per- 
 suaded that the time was not come. Now, Abe, listen. The 
 school year is now nearly over. You and Malcolm will soon 
 be going home. Then you can ferret out the guilty parties. 
 You can do nothing now. From the beginning Malcolm 
 wanted you to know ; so do not blame him. Yesterday I talked 
 this matter over with Dr. Finley, and he told me to bring you 
 to him. Will you go ? I think Mr. Donewell has also had this 
 matter investigated. Abe, your friends are doing all they can 
 to have those persons indicted; but, as you know, the Grand 
 Jury may fail to indict. Let us go to the Doctor's office." 
 
 "Abe, " said Malcolm, "I have felt all along that you 
 should know all about this deed; but the majority of our 
 friends thought it best for you not to know, as you would 
 naturally want to go home, where you could do no good. I 
 was willing to go with you, and I am still willing to go. I will 
 aid you in any way to right this wrong. I hope you do not 
 think, Abe, that I will desert you in your hour of need?" 
 
 * * Malcolm, I cannot think. I know you and your father are 
 my best friends. I know you and he will aid me. I will need 
 your help." 
 
 The young men clasped hands in a friendly manner. Sud- 
 denly Abe said: "Stay here six weeks? Why, fellows, I am 
 going tonight. How can I study now ? ' ' 
 
 "Abe, I took the responsibility upon myself to make an 
 engagement for you with Dr. Finley. Will you go to see 
 him before you decide to leave the College ? ' ' asked Battles. 
 
 "Yes, Rattles, we will go," was Abe's answer. 
 
 When the boys reached Dr. Finley 's office the good Doctor 
 met them very pleasantly. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 123 
 
 "Doctor," said Rattles, "I have brought Mr. Overley to 
 see you. We have been discussing his bereavement, and " 
 
 "Yes! Yes!" said the Doctor, who seemed to divine Rat- 
 tles 's intentions. "I have been expecting Mr. Overley for 
 some days." 
 
 Rattles gave the Doctor a full account of all that had trans- 
 pired, and also Abe's determination to go home at once. The 
 Doctor took Abe by the hand and drew him to a chair by his 
 side. He invited the boys to listen. He then went over 
 the whole case, dwelling upon the enormity of the crimes, 
 the flimsy excuse for them, and the environment amidst which 
 the people live, who tolerate such crimes in their midst. He 
 finished by asking Abe what he expected to do after he got 
 back home, provided he should go at once. 
 
 Abe, who had been quietly listening to the Doctor, arose to 
 his feet, extended his hands toward the heavens, remarking 
 with great bitterness: 
 
 ' ' Doctor, I intend to go home and kill ! kill ! kill ! My poor 
 old mother's blood cries for vengeance. I hear it as it falls 
 to the earth. It calls to me drop by drop, as it is drawn from 
 her emaciated body by the brutal hands of her lynchers. Oh, 
 my poor mother! Poor and lowly that you were; slave, but 
 virtuous and true; ignorant, but wise in the duties of life; 
 look down from thy celestial home upon me, thine only son; 
 search my innermost heart, where, if one drop of blood has its 
 resting place, that calls not for vengeance, that falters even 
 for an instant in that purpose, dry it up. Call me not thy son 
 should I not bring down upon the heads of thy murderers a 
 like fate!" 
 
 "But, Mr. Overley, consider that to which you are about 
 to commit yourself; consider the great gifts that God has 
 bestowed upon you; consider the life in a higher world to 
 which your ability will surely lead; consider the wishes of 
 your many friends, those who are sacrificing that you may 
 enjoy the benefits of this great College ; consider the wishes of 
 
124 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 that old father, who is now praying for the hand that 
 bereaved him, and who, even when he first received the terrible 
 blow, bowed his head and said, 'Lord, Thy Will be done.' " 
 
 Dr. Finley spoke these words with great earnestness, but 
 Abe was unmoved. 
 
 "Doctor," answered Abe; "I come from a race of men who, 
 though slaves, were never known to falter in the performance 
 of a duty. My poor mother's blood calls for vengeance. I 
 see that blood, as she lies bound and helpless in the hands of 
 her murderers, drawn drop by drop from her helpless body. 
 I tell you, ' ' continued Abe, as he sprang to the middle of the 
 room, his whole attitude changed from the man to the animal 
 seeking an object upon which to vent its rage, "her blood 
 calls to me; it calls aloud, Abel-like, for vengeance. I care 
 not what befalls me. I care not what my life in eternity may 
 be. Aye, I care not what your God may demand. My poor 
 mother's blood cries to me for vengeance, and I will answer 
 that call. All I ask is that the demons of hell may lend me 
 their strength; that I may possess myself of the bitterness, 
 gall and hatred the kind which possessed the murderers of 
 my poor mother in order that I may wreak a vengeance suit- 
 able to their crime." 
 
 Dr. Finley realized it would be useless to argue further 
 with Abe, and therefore remarked, without answering Abe's 
 last outburst of passion, that he hoped Abe would see Mr. 
 Donewell and Miss Watson before he concluded to leave the 
 College. After some general remarks the boys took their 
 leave. 
 
 "Abe," said Rattles, "are you thinking about leaving the 
 College without first asking Miss Watson's permission? I 
 thought you were more gallant than that. Do you want her 
 to follow you, seeking an apology ? ' ' 
 
 Rattles said this with a view to relieving the strain under 
 which they were laboring. Abe did not answer Rattles, but 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 125 
 
 he seemed to be in deep thought. He seemed not to have 
 noticed Rattles' little pleasantry. 
 
 Suddnly Abe remarked: "That is so; I did not think of 
 her. Well, I can see her tomorrow." 
 
 This gave Rattles an idea. He determined to see Miss 
 Watson before Abe saw her. He went next morning to the 
 young lady's home and explained to her Abe's intention to 
 leave the College and go home to revenge himself upon the 
 murderers of his mother. He asked her good offices in per- 
 suading Abe to remain until the end of the school year, which 
 she promised to use. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 FTER the departure of Abe and his friends, Mr. Done- 
 well came into the Doctor's office in company with 
 Dean Sternly and several of the College professors. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said the Doctor, "you have come too late. 
 I have just had a most interesting interview with the young 
 Negro, Overley from Alabama. His friends brought him to 
 me. They wished me to talk to him, to try to calm him, and, 
 if possible, to persuade him to stay in the College until the 
 end of the school year. I did my best, but only succeeded in 
 arousing all the animal in him. I suggested " 
 
 ' ' That was very easy to do, was it not, Doctor ? ' ' interrupted 
 Professor Smirchum. 
 
 "I do not understand you, Professor," answered the 
 Doctor. 
 
 "Well, these Negroes have a great deal of animal in them 
 and it only requires a slight offense to arouse them to a point 
 at which they become dangerous," answered the Professor. 
 
 " I do not agree with you, Professor, ' ' said Dean Sternly ; 
 * ' your statement is too broad. We have thirty Negroes in the 
 College, who are subject to slurs and insults from the South- 
 ern boys ; but we have only one case of disorder resulting from 
 a Negro's resenting these insults. In that case a Southern 
 boy, after provoking an assault, was slapped in the face, but 
 did not retaliate. No, Professor, you are too hasty in your 
 judgment. You do not judge these boys as you do the other 
 students. Why assume that they are carried away by the 
 same animal instincts that governed their forebears? They 
 are several generations removed from them." 
 
 "You gentlemen interrupted Dr. Finley," said Dr. Done- 
 well. "He was about to tell us what he suggested to this 
 young man. I am very much interested in this student and 
 want to hear the Doctor's story." 
 
 126 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 127 
 
 "Well, I will continue," said the Doctor. "This young 
 man has just lost his mother and sister, who were lynched, as 
 you may know. He has about made up his mind to leave the 
 College at once. I tried to persuade him to remain until the 
 end of the school year. I talked to him like a father. I told 
 him of the enormity of these crimes, of the punishment that 
 would overtake the murderers, of his intellectual gifts, of his 
 bright future, of the old father who was praying for him. I 
 suggested all I could to him. He sat silent while I talked, 
 but when I asked him what he would do, should he go home at 
 once, he bounded to the middle of the room with a cry that 
 startled me, and said : ' Doctor, I shall go home and kill ! kill ! 
 kill ! ' His words were not spoken in a loud tone of voice, but 
 with an intensity, a force, that made them cut like steel. He 
 stood towering above us, with his hands extended to the 
 heavens, his eyes emitting the most peculiar flame, his whole 
 being suggesting the incarnation of the evil one. Gentlemen, 
 when he said, 'Doctor, I shall go home and kill! kill! kill!' 
 his wrath was something terrible. Then he moaned, * Oh, my 
 poor mother ! I am the cause of your unnatural death ! Thy 
 blood calls for vengeance, and I will answer that call.' His 
 agony was as deep and heartrending as his wrath was bitter 
 and uncontrollable. Gentlemen, I would that all of you had 
 witnessed these outbursts. What will this young man do 
 when he reaches his home? I do not hesitate to say that he 
 will keep his vow. He will surely kill those who participated 
 in the lynching of his mother. He, in his blind fury, can see 
 but the one way to avenge his wrong. I predict for him a 
 carnival of blood." 
 
 ' ' Doctor, do you think that what you have just said is pos- 
 sible in a Negro?" asked Professor Smirchum. 
 
 "Professor, your question is not quite clear to me. Explain 
 more fully," said Dr. Finley. 
 
 "Well, we all know that the Negro is an inferior being. 
 That " 
 
128 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "You state your conclusion, Professor, and reason back to 
 your premises," said Dean Sternly. "You will pardon me 
 for saying that this is a most unusual manner of reasoning, 
 and one to which you resort only when you have the Negro 
 under discussion. Why say, 'we all know the Negro is thus 
 and so,' when the facts before us are just to the contrary? 
 In your class report of last year you say, to use your own 
 words, ' Overley is an exceptional Negro ; I may say an excep- 
 tional man.' I did not know then what you meant, nor do 
 I know now. I can simply guess. How a student can be 
 exceptional, and be less than a man, is a point upon which I 
 beg you to enlarge. But this 'exceptional Negro' is the one 
 under discussion, not the race to which he belongs. Will 
 he adhere to his vow? I agree with Dr. Finley, that he will 
 surely kill the murderers of his mother. 
 
 "He has been educated, developed, I may say, up to the 
 point that has been reached by our civilization, where men 
 take the lives of one another in revenge for the lives of their 
 kindred or for wrongs perpetrated upon their women. How 
 is it possible for a Negro, or a man of any race, to live 
 amongst us, be educated in our schools, take on our civili- 
 zation, and differ from us in this respect? I grant that 
 there is a class of Negroes who have been taught that it is a 
 crime against God, for which there is no forgiveness, for them 
 to take the life of a white man. I may add that they think it 
 is even wrong to strike one; but this Negro, Overley, is not 
 of that type, and that old type is now the exception rather 
 than the rule. No, Professor, your conclusion is not tenable. 
 Pardon me, you reason backward. This Negro is a white man, 
 in the sense that his ambitions and his desires for the good 
 things of this world are identical with yours. He loved his 
 mother and he loves his home. His feelings are outraged by 
 the manner of his mother 's taking off. He says her blood calls 
 for vengeance. He sees her bound and helpless, being lashed 
 to death. He sees no difference between a white murderer and 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 129 
 
 a black one. He has never been taught that a white man's 
 person is sacred. He resolves to kill. What else can you 
 expect? What would a white man do? What would you 
 do ? I am almost prepared to acquiesce in his resolution and 
 bid him Godspeed. But I remember 'Thou shalt not kill.' 
 Were I this young man, placed as he is, could I withstand the 
 desire for revenge that is born in every human being ? Would 
 the Mosaic Law deter me? With all the avenues of justice 
 through the courts cut off, compelled to combat a sentiment 
 which sanctions such atrocities, living in a community that 
 bids him be silent, because his mother deserved to die, and 
 that it was fit and proper for those young brutes to take her 
 life I repeat, placed in his stead, could I, could you, resist 
 the impulse to avenge her death? Would you not avenge 
 your mother's murder? Would you do your mother justice 
 not to avenge her? I do not condemn the man who seeks 
 vengeance. I leave these matters for each person to decide 
 according to his personal feelings. ' ' 
 
 "Dean Sternly," said Professor Narrows, "do you consider 
 your doctrine of revenge a sound one ? Is it one that should 
 be inculcated into the minds of these Negroes ? ' ' 
 
 "I have no doctrine of revenge, nor have I said to incul- 
 cate any such doctrine into their minds," answered Dean 
 Sternly, hotly. "I have said that the desire for revenge is 
 an attribute of human nature, controlled only by the will of 
 the individual. In the case under discussion, and in all sim- 
 ilar cases, the only remedy, the only means of eradicating this 
 terrible evil, is to teach the lynchers, by example, that they 
 will meet like fates. Men who gather in mobs and kill are 
 not of the class who will face death individually. Men who 
 are brave in mobs, when attacking a single person, will not 
 even attack that person with a mob when they know that 
 retribution will certainly follow them. You gentlemen have 
 a certain code of ethics along those lines for yourself and a 
 different one for these Negroes. You say that he must not 
 
130 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 look at your women, but at the same time his women are not 
 safe from you. That for which he is lynched you simply 
 smile at in one of yourselves. Still, you are educating him 
 along your lines. When you place him in classes along with 
 your sons and daughters he outstrips them frequently in intel- 
 lectual power ; and I cannot conceive how men can be so blind 
 as to think that an educated Negro will be any less the man 
 than any other human being that has taken on your education 
 and civilization. 
 
 "You take the Chinaman, the Japanese, all the darker 
 races, in fact, even the native African, and educate and civilize 
 them, and then you point with pride to your work. With 
 open arms this product of your labor is received into the body 
 politic. But the American-born Negro it matters not what 
 his early environment, the social status of his parents, nor that 
 he has passed through with highest praise the courses here 
 prescribed by you, and brought credit to your school you 
 consider him with a specially constructed code of reasoning, 
 both illogical and unjust, and force him outside of your con- 
 sideration and social institutions. No hand is extended to 
 him, unless it brandishes a cudgel ; no door is opened to enable 
 him to gain an honest livelihood, no matter how proficient he 
 is in the branches from which you have graduated him. The 
 American Negro possesses a something, I suppose, which you 
 cannot tolerate a something that no other man nor race of 
 men, not even his forebears, possessed. How came he by this 
 undefinable something? Does he get it by contact with this 
 dominant race of ours? Yes. Examine yourselves and you 
 will find the source of the trouble. Why, you are unwilling 
 to accord him the same privileges, the same chance to earn 
 a living and enjoy life which you accord other men, is a 
 question which I have long pondered. You gentlemen, pos- 
 sibly, can give me the solution." 
 
 "Well, for my part," answered Professor Narrows, "the 
 foreigner acts differently from the American Negro. You 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 131 
 
 always know the foreign Negro ; but the American Negro has 
 an air about him that makes him objectionable. He likes to 
 rub against one too much. Oh, he presumes to be one's equal. 
 I don't like him for that." 
 
 ' ' Yes, that is very true, ' ' answered Dean Sternly. ' ' That is 
 the secret of the whole matter. You invite the Chinaman, out 
 of whom you can never educate his opium ; the Japanese, out 
 of whom you can never educate his idolatry ; the Malays, Hin- 
 doos, Moors, Africans, and all other foreign races of men, you 
 invite to come to you. The people who never take on your 
 civilization you bid come. You repulse the American Negro 
 who has taken on your civilization. Can you not see that that 
 of which you complain is but the American idea? How can 
 the Negro come in contact with you and your institutions and 
 not be Americanized? Why do you teach him? You edu- 
 cate him, then ostracise him, apparently for taking on your 
 teachings. This state of affairs must certainly be embarrassing 
 to the Negro. Professor, if you are not willing to live up to 
 the result of your work, you should not be a party to the 
 tragedy which you are helping to enact. I was born and 
 reared in the South, and I know that your theory and com- 
 ments are all wrong." 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Dr. Finley, "a discussion of this ques- 
 tion was had over forty years ago. At the time, the founders 
 of this College concluded that there were no white men, no 
 black men, no yellow men, no red men, but that all men were 
 alike before God, and, further, that this idea should dominate 
 the policy of this College. From this ideal it has never devi- 
 ated, and so long as I remain President it never shall. This 
 brings us back to this young man, Overley. Can he justify 
 himself before God, should he keep his vow? We read, 'the 
 avenger of the blood himself shall slay the murderer: the 
 murderer shall surely be put to death.' We would infer 
 from this charge to Moses that the great God Almighty con- 
 templated an avenger of the blood. Would you consider it 
 
132 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 strange that this young man feels, in the absence of courts 
 and juries, that he should avenge his mother's and sister's 
 deaths? I, as a minister of the Gospel, do not advise deeds 
 of violence, but in this contemplated deed I am almost per- 
 suaded that this young man is right in his determination to 
 avenge his mother's death. "When I think of this atrocious 
 crime, the wanton brutality of the whole proceeding, I bow 
 my head in shame that such crimes are perpetrated and coun- 
 tenanced by the race to which I belong. Can this nation of 
 ours stand with this thirst for blood growing upon us ? There 
 will surely come a day of reckoning." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 afternoon of the following day Abe called upon 
 Miss Watson with the avowed intention of bidding 
 her good-bye. She greeted him very cordially, 
 remarking: "You may come in, sir, but I want you to give 
 an account of yourself. Where have you been for the past 
 six weeks ? Do you remember, sir, that you promised me that 
 you would sing at our song services last Sunday? I am 
 greatly aggrieved at your unaccountable conduct. I shall 
 accept nothing but the most abject apology. Now, sir, I am 
 ready to listen." 
 
 Abe stood looking at her in bewilderment. He finally said : 
 ' ' Miss Watson, my mind has been so paralyzed by my bereave- 
 ment; the weight of my burden has been " 
 
 "Mr. Overley, why did you not come to me and permit me 
 to share your burden ? Do you not know that by staying away 
 from your friends at such times you not only burden yourself, 
 but put a burden upon them, unnecessarily? I have waited 
 all this time for an opportunity to express my sympathy for 
 you. I am very sorry, Mr. Overley, that you have not seen 
 fit to see me sooner. Do you think that I cannot feel the 
 terrible blow that has befallen you? Do you not know that 
 I am aware that no Negro, man, woman or child, is safe in the 
 land of your birth from the kind of assaults that has resulted 
 in your mother's death? Would I be safe there? If I was 
 not subject to one kind of assault I would be to another. And 
 so you have come to say good-bye?" 
 
 "Miss Watson, if you will permit me to explain, I 
 know you will agree with me that it is imperative that I go 
 home. My father is an old man, very old seventy-four years 
 of age. Mr. Overley is of the same age. They are both too 
 old to think of ferreting out the persons concerned in the 
 deaths of my mother and sister, and for them to avenge their 
 
 133 
 
134 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 deaths is out of the question. I say 'them.' I, of course, do 
 not expect Mr. Overley to avenge them; but I know him so 
 well that I know he will aid me. I am going home for no 
 other purpose than to take the lives of those who killed my 
 mother and sister. I am going to kill kill every man that 
 has my mother's blood on his hands. I have determined to 
 devote my life to the wreaking of vengeance. I have come to 
 make this confession to you. I have come to confess that I 
 am a murderer at heart and soon will be one in fact. I am 
 going to ask whether, after I have stained my hands in the 
 blood of my mother's murderers, which I surely will do, will 
 you still want to see me? Will you answer me now or shall 
 I leave you to consider the matter?" 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I have already considered," was her answer. 
 "I have been taught 'thou shalt not kill' 'love thy neighbor 
 as thyself.' I have also read, 'an eye for an eye and a tooth 
 for a tooth. ' As God is my guide and my helper, I know not 
 how to advise you. But, were I a man, nay, woman that I am, 
 should my mother meet the cruel death at the hands of brutal 
 lynchers that your mother met, I would leave no path 
 unsearched, no stone unturned; I would delve into the very 
 bowels of the earth ; I would skirt the fires of hell ; aye, cross 
 them, in my endeavor to wreak a suitable vengeance upon such 
 brutes; nor would I feel, until the last murderer was slain, 
 that I had done my duty to my dead. Will I care to see you? 
 Mr. Overley, I feel this outrage upon Negro womanhood most 
 keenly. I feel that it calls for a terrible retribution. I thank 
 God that I am permitted to call my friend the one Negro man 
 who will devote his life to the punishment of the perpetrators 
 of this crime. Will I care to see you ? ' ' again she asked, her 
 eyes flashing, her slender figure swaying, as the panther sways 
 when about to leap upon its prey. "Go, and when you have 
 wreaked the vengeance for which your mother's blood calls, 
 be it one month, one year, nay, be it Eternity, I will wait for 
 you!" 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 135 
 
 As Miss Watson, who was known for her passive Christian 
 spirit, finished this declaration she extended her hand to Abe, 
 who raised it to his lips with the remark: "Miss Watson, I 
 was afraid you would not understand my motives. I am 
 pleased that you take the view of this matter which I do. I 
 am more than proud to know that the one woman now left to 
 me in this world approves of my determination. Miss Wat- 
 son may I say Nancy? I am proud of you. I love you. 
 I have always loved you. I loved you before I ever met you, 
 or else how would our souls have joined at sight ? Nancy, you 
 say you will wait for me? Wait for me to commit these 
 terrible crimes for crimes they will be? Oh, Nancy, you 
 have not said you loved me ! " 
 
 As Abe said this he held out both hands to her. She came 
 close to him, permitting him to put his arms around her and 
 implant a solemn kiss upon her forehead. Suddently she drew 
 away and asked what his plans were. 
 
 Abe said he would go home at once, to which she objected. 
 
 "Abe, do not go home immediately; wait until the end of 
 the school year; then go home quietly as if nothing had hap- 
 pened. Learn all you can about this deed, who committed it, 
 and how it was done, why it was committed, if there be a 
 reason. Then you will know what vengeance to wreak and 
 upon whom. Be cautious. Ingratiate yourself into the good 
 graces of all, until you know the whole truth. It matters 
 not if it takes one year or two years. Success is to be your 
 object. To avenge the death of two outraged women is to be 
 your undertaking. I shall expect you to write me as your 
 hunt progresses. Do you think that a good plan?" 
 
 1 * Yes, Nancy, that is a very good plan, and I shall act upon 
 it, ' ' said Abe, as he arose to leave. 
 
 "Mr. Overley," said Miss Watson, "haven't you forgotten 
 something ? ' ' 
 
 Abe did not seem to comprehend her meaning. 
 
 "Forgotten what, Nancy?" he asked. 
 
136 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ' ' Why, my father, of course ; you have forgotten that I am 
 a minor," was her laughing reply. 
 
 "Oh, I will never forget that; all girls are minors up to a 
 certain time in their lives," answered Abe. 
 
 "That will do, sir; I will call father," and Miss Watson left 
 the room. 
 
 Mr. Watson was a substantial citizen, who had conducted 
 a grocery business in Oberlin for a number of years. He was 
 very fond of his only daughter Nancy. 
 
 "Mr. Watson," said Abe, "you have been sent for that I 
 may make two confessions to you. You have, no doubt, heard 
 of the terrible deaths of my poor mother and sister. Well, sir, 
 I have vowed to avenge them. I shall go home and kill every 
 man who was concerned in their taking off. I confess this to 
 you, that you may know the next time we meet, if meet we do, 
 that I have the blood of one or more persons on my hands. 
 Further, when we do meet, I shall ask you to give me your 
 daughter in marriage." 
 
 Mr. Watson arose to his feet, taking a turn across the room. 
 He stopped, looked Abe full in the face, and asked: "Would 
 you give your daughter to a murderer a double murderer, 
 maybe?" 
 
 Abe answered solemnly : * ' Mr. Watson, should your daugh- 
 ter Nancy be foully murdered lynched what would 
 you do?" 
 
 After a long silence, the old man faltering as to his decision, 
 said, as he extended his hand to Abe: "I will consult my 
 wife and daughter." 
 
 Abe then left the house and returned to his room. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 OON the day of his departure came, and Abe, with 
 Malcolm, took leave of the College. When Abe arrived 
 home he found his father broken and apparently twenty 
 years nearer the end of his life's journey. 
 
 The old man greeted his son without a word, but with a 
 long, clinging grasp of the hand. In his eyes was a mute 
 appeal, felt only by the two souls that had been stricken by 
 the same blow. The father led the way to two newly made 
 graves, by which Abe kneeled, raised his eyes to heaven, and 
 in a voice choking with emotion pleaded with the Ruler of 
 the Universe for strength to bear his burden. 
 
 Abe's father listened, thinking that perhaps after all his 
 son had accepted the situation and would not seek revenge. 
 The young man fell across his mother's grave, where he 
 remained seemingly lifeless, while the father watched and 
 waited, hoping that Abe would soon leave the graves and go 
 with him to the house to greet Mr. Overley. The old man 
 finally concluded to call Mr. Overley and ask him to try and 
 persuade Abe to go to the house. Mr. Overley, accompanied 
 by Malcolm, came to the quiet burying plot, where he found 
 Abe still prostrate on his mother's grave. Abe's father 
 pointed to his son with a silent request for help. 
 
 Mr. Overley knelt by him, taking his sand, saying: "Abe, 
 my boy, come to the house with me; I am anxious to hear 
 something of your success at school. You cannot help matters 
 by grieving over what is already done. Boy, I feel for you. 
 This thing is the most hellish crime that has ever been perpe- 
 trated on woman in this country. But what can you do? 
 H and damnation! What can you do, I say?" 
 
 Abe arose slowly and stood looking first at one and then 
 the other. Finally, he asked in a solemn voice: "What can 
 I do ? By the gods ! Ask me what will I not do ? " 
 
 137 
 
138 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 He again fell upon his mother's grave, where he remained 
 some moments in silence, which was broken by his father 
 saying to him: 
 
 "My boy, yo' po' mudder am in hebben. She am now 
 lookin' down from dem stars on yo'. She am sayin' to yo', to 
 belebe in de Lawd. Dat de Lawd's will be done. Oh, my boy ! 
 Look to de Lawd fo' he'p in dis matter." 
 
 Abe arose to his feet, extended his hand to his father, 
 saying: "Dad, I appreciate what you say, but I feel that I 
 must avenge my mother's death. Oh, my mother! Oh, my 
 poor mother!" Again Abe, in a frenzy of despair, threw 
 himself upon his mother's grave, where he lay supine and 
 quivering, moaning that the great God Almighty had forsaken 
 him and his. 
 
 He extended his hands toward the heavens, and in the 
 stillness of the night, in the presence of his father and their 
 old friend, called upon the God that made him to register his 
 vow. He said: "By the God that made me, by that silent 
 breast that nurtured me, by the sister of my childhood, by 
 all that I hold dear in this world, I will be avenged ! Mother, 
 may I ever be accursed in your sight if I do not avenge you ! ' ' 
 
 Turning to his friend, he said: "Mr. Overley, would you 
 not consider me less than a man should I permit these mur- 
 derers to go unpunished? I swear to you that so surely as 
 there is a God, so surely as this brutal deed is recorded in 
 heaven, so surely as there is an eternity, so surely as there 
 is a hell, so surely as the perpetrators of this crime are watched 
 for in the hell into which I shall plunge them, just so surely 
 shall I avenge this murder." 
 
 Finding it impossible to induce Abe to leave his mother's 
 grave and go with them, Mr. Oberley and Abe's father reluct- 
 antly left him there and returned in silence to the great 
 house. When they had gone Abe again raised his hands to 
 the heavens and exclaimed: "Mother! Oh, my poor mother! 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 139 
 
 Look down upon thy son ! Let me feel thy presence ! Mother, 
 I devote my life to the wreaking of vengeance upon thy mur- 
 derers ! " As Abe uttered these words he sank once more upon 
 his mother's grave, where he remained in silence until morn- 
 ing. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 S7 T SOON became known throughout the county that Abe 
 had returned to his home. Speculation was rife as to 
 what he would do to avenge his mother 's death. He gave 
 no sign, however, as to what his intentions or feelings were, 
 but set about quietly, though diligently, to glean the facts in the 
 case. He soon learned that Black Sue had planted the germ 
 which led to the deaths that bereaved him. He also learned 
 that the crime had been committed by Buck Lashum, the 
 Smalys and the Wardevans, and that they had used a leather 
 horse trace to accomplish the horrible deed. The trace, he 
 discovered, had been cut in pieces by the five men and the 
 pieces taken to their respective homes to be kept as souvenirs 
 of this great performance, thus perpetuating in their families 
 the fame of having participated in such a laudable (?) under- 
 taking. Abe concluded that he would possess himself of the 
 pieces of trace, splice them together, and make this recon- 
 structed trace the instrument of his revenge. After some 
 thought he concluded to take Malcolm into his confidence. 
 
 "Malcolm," said Abe, one evening as they sat in their 
 favorite haunt, the corn crib, "I want to tell you something, 
 and then I want your advice. First, I have discovered by 
 whom and just how my mother and sister were killed. Sec- 
 ond, I have determined how these lynchers shall be punished. 
 My poor mother was beaten to death with a horse trace. Just 
 think of it! Seventy years old, and to meet such a death! 
 And my sister, nude, was beaten to death amid the jeers and 
 curses of those drunken brutes ! ' ' 
 
 As Abe recited these details the tears of rage rolled down 
 his cheeks, his head dropped upon his breast, and he remained 
 silent for a long time. Malcolm, respecting his grief, waited 
 for him to recover. Abe finally resumed, saying: "I have 
 also learned that each archdemon in this horrible crime has 
 
 140 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 141 
 
 a piece of this trace at his home, as a keepsake. I propose to 
 possess myself of those pieces, make a whole trace of them, 
 and then let that gang beware ! I shall take them one by one, 
 tie them to a tree, and when I have finished with them all there 
 will be five new graves somewhere in this county. I shall 
 begin with Buck Lashum. There is but one thing, Malcolm, 
 that deters me. I may be compelled to enter the homes of 
 these people, especially Buck's, and steal those pieces." 
 
 After a long silence Malcolm said: "Abe, I do not think 
 you should let that stop you. I will go with you and help 
 you get them. Then you will need someone to help handle 
 these fellows. You cannot do the whole thing yourself. And, 
 more, I want the pleasure of laying the strap on Buck. Jim 
 Wheatley and Jack Connors both told me to tell you they 
 would be glad to help you in any way you might suggest. 
 What do you say?" 
 
 "No, Malcolm," said Abe; "1 alone must do this deed. 
 You and your friends will make this State and county your 
 homes. I have no home. If blood must be shed, I must shed 
 it. There will be a price on my head. No, it will never do 
 for you to be drawn into this affair in that way ; you can help 
 me in other ways." 
 
 When Abe had finished he arose to his feet, looked out of 
 the door, and remarked: "Well, the moon has gone down; I 
 shall now go on my errand of stealth. My friends who work 
 at the Smalys and Wardemans will be waiting for me with 
 the different pieces. I hope I will have only Buck's house 
 to enter, and I know exactly where to find the piece he has. 
 I hope he will sleep soundly; for if he awakens he will face 
 his Maker sooner than he anticipates. When I return in the 
 morning I will have the five pieces." 
 
 With this speech ringing in his ears, Malcolm watched Abe 
 as he disappeared in the gloom. 
 
 Abe went to the Wardeman place, where he found the pieces 
 imbedded in the earth on the left side of the left post of the 
 
142 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 big gate at the main road. At the Smalys he found the 
 pieces sticking through a crack in the barn, six boards from 
 the east corner next to the spring. Then, going to Buck 
 Lahsum 's home, he entered by a back window, which he found 
 open, and went straight to Buck's room, where he had been 
 told the piece of trace was tied to a picture which hung over 
 the head of Buck's bed. These instructions flashed through 
 Abe's mind as he passed into Buck's room, all the while ask- 
 ing himself what should he do if discovered. He was not 
 discovered, however, and reached home without accident. 
 Next morning, when Malcolm came to the harness room, he 
 found Abe busily engaged splicing the pieces of trace. 
 
 " Hello, Abe!" exclaimed Malcolm. "You are a successful 
 pilferer, I see. Tell me, did you have any trouble?" 
 
 "Not a bit," answered Abe. "I found everything just as 
 I expected down by the big gate at the Wardemans. sticking 
 out of a crack in the barn at the Smalys, and Buck had his 
 piece hanging over his bed. When I looked upon that brute 
 sleeping so peacefully, the vision of his crime came upon me. 
 I stood over him, hoping he would awaken, that I might 
 strangle him. I did not feel capable of striking him down 
 in his sleep. He slept on, but with a look of terror on his 
 evil countenance. He felt my very presence, even in his 
 slumbers. His God was merciful to him. Had he opened 
 his eyes, had he indicated to me in any way that he was aware 
 of my presence well " 
 
 Malcolm watched Abe for some time in silence, then asked : 
 "What will you do next, Abe?" 
 
 "I have been told by friends that Buck is going to ride in 
 the tournament down on the Neck next Wednesday. That he 
 will be gone from home two days. He is sending his traps 
 around the road, and will ride across the country. Now, 
 there is but one path for him to travel after he leaves the 
 back end of his place, and that leads through the Gut north 
 of the swamp. You know where the solid ground narrows 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 143 
 
 to a neck of ten feet in width ? Well, there I shall set a trap 
 for his horse which will cause the animal to throw him. I will 
 do the rest. This place is six miles from Buck's home, and 
 his cries cannot be heard that distance. I will endeavor to 
 impress upon his mind, in the two days I shall engage him, 
 that Negro women are as sacred as his own, and that Negro 
 men will have to be reckoned with in the future when their 
 women are assaulted." 
 
 ' ' Abe, don 't make a brute of yourself in this matter, ' ' said 
 Malcolm. "What you propose to do will be a terrible punish- 
 ment." 
 
 "I mean for it to be terrible," answered Abe. "I mean 
 for my first blow to strike terror to the hearts of these people. 
 Malcolm, you will see. But I must go and study the land at 
 the point I have in mind. I will ride Kate, if you do not 
 object." 
 
 "Do not what?" said Malcolm. "You are getting mighty 
 careful all at once asking for the use of a horse. I guess I 
 had better tell your dad that you want to use Kate, and where 
 you are going, and for what purpose." 
 
 Both young men laughed as Abe rode away. He rode to 
 within fifty yards of the place, secured his horse, and pro- 
 ceeded to lay his plans. He first selected a sapling, bent it 
 to the ground at a point where bushes overhung the path, cut 
 the top out, and attached part of a plow line to it. Passing 
 the line through the bushes and once around a series of stakes, 
 driven in a circle on either side of the path, with their tops 
 leaning out, the plow line formed a loop into which the horse 
 would be sure to step, thus causing the line to leave the tops 
 of the stakes, release the sapling and thereby tighten the line 
 around the horse's leg. Should it be the foreleg, the horse 
 will be sure to go down in front. If the hind leg is caught, he 
 will plunge and kick, unseating the rider. 
 
 Abe expected to profit by the struggle that would follow the 
 springing of his trap. The afternoon of the Tuesday follow- 
 
144 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ing Abe noted Buck's departure, and immediately set out at a 
 brisk run for the place at which he hoped to stop Buck and 
 his horse. He had scarcely seated himself at an unobserved 
 point, with his eyes on the path, when Buck came in sight, the 
 horse sprung the trap with his forefoot and began rearing 
 and plunging, tearing up the earth for yards. Buck fell 
 heavily to the ground, and before he could recover himself 
 Abe was upon him. 
 
 Buck was filled with terror. His teeth chattered; his lips 
 were purple; his eyes bulged. Abe placed a small rope with 
 a running noose about his neck, and ordered him to stand up 
 and keep quiet, which he gladly did. Then, cutting the line 
 which held the horse, he proceeded with it and Buck to a 
 dense nearby thicket. Buck in his terror begged to be allowed 
 to go home, saying: 
 
 "Mr. Overley, sah, yer knows I was always yer friend; 
 'deed I was. I 'm yer friend now. What you treat yer friend 
 this way f er ? Mr. Oberley, if yer let me go home I will have 
 my pappy send yer a dollar and a half ; 'deed I will ! ' ' 
 
 Abe made the horse secure, after which he fastened the end 
 of the rope that was about Buck 's neck to a small sapling that 
 was already bent to the ground, and when this sapling was 
 released the rope tightened about Buck's neck with a sudden- 
 ness that nearly lifted him off his feet. Buck grasped the rope 
 and drew the sapling down to him, thus taking the strain off 
 his neck. When he did this, Abe dealt him a blow which 
 caused him to scream with pain and to release his hold on the 
 rope, which again jerked him by the neck to his toes and held 
 him there. 
 
 Up to this point Abe had not secured Buck's hands. He 
 started toward him for that purpose. Buck seemed to divine 
 his intention and pleaded: 
 
 1 ' Mr. Overley, f er God 's sake let me go home ! My 
 mammy " 
 
 When Buck made this reference to his "mammy" Abe 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 145 
 
 sprang upon him, with a cry that resembled a wild beast, and 
 dealt him a blow on the crown of his head with the trace that, 
 but for the thickness of Buck's skull, would have crushed it. 
 Buck threw both of his hands into the air, and with a laugh 
 that appeared not to be human, as it echoed through the still 
 forest, sank to the ground. Abe stood looking at him for a 
 long time, as he lay prostrate and apparently lifeless. Sud- 
 denly he realized that Buck was getting black in the face ; the 
 rope was slowly choking him to death. 
 
 He released Buck and sat down beside him. The shades of 
 night began to fall; the moonbeams and the shadows were 
 flirting in the gathering gloom. Buck, to all appearances, 
 was dead. Abe watched him as if he feared that even in death 
 Buck might escape him.. All night he lay motionless. 
 
 As the sun began to dispel the gloom of the forest Abe dis- 
 cerned a movement in him and reached forward to turn his 
 head that he might see his face, when Buck suddenly raised 
 himself to his elbow and their eyes met. Abe knew instinct- 
 ively that he was facing a maniac. Buck, almost bereft of 
 reason, could see but one object, and that one hateful to him. 
 He bounded to his feet with the quickness of a wildcat, and 
 was upon Abe before he hardly realized Buck's intentions. 
 The struggle that ensued, spurred on as it was by a mortal 
 hatred on the one side and an unevenly balanced mind on the 
 other, was fierce, but of short duration. Buck, in his wild 
 rush, endeavored to grasp Abe about the middle, but failed, 
 and only succeeded in securing a hold on his shoulders, which 
 enabled Abe to more easily throw him. Buck fell with great 
 force, with Abe across his body. The small of his back struck 
 a stake, causing an injury to the spine which paralyzed him 
 from the waist down, rendering him totally helpless. Buck 
 never recovered. Abe, not knowing Buck's helpless condition, 
 belabored him with his horse trace, Buck at intervals bursting 
 forth in a laugh that resounded through the forest. When 
 Abe noticed Buck's condition he sat down to think how he 
 might get rid of his victim without killing him outright. Tie 
 
146 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 finally concluded to take Buck back to the place where he 
 was thrown from his horse, and where the ground showed a 
 struggle, turn the horse loose, and leave Buck to be found by 
 his friends. Abe was careful to cut the sapling which sprung 
 the trap close to the ground and to remove all evidences that 
 would tend to show that human hands were responsible for 
 Buck's condition. The horse soon made its way back to the 
 barn. Black Sue saw it and spread the alarm. 
 
 "I bet dat Abe Oberley knows sumfin' 'bout dis hos' an' 
 'bout dat chile," said Sue to herself. Soon a searching party 
 was formed, which included some of the Overley Negroes, who 
 were inspired by curiosity. When Buck's dogs were turned 
 loose, they started for the swamp in full cry and soon had him 
 located. Every man crowded about with an opinion, all 
 finally agreeing that the horse must have kicked Buck in the 
 back while his foot was hung in the stirrup. 
 
 When the Wardeman boys heard of Buck's mishap, Tim, 
 who had become a local minister, concluded he would answer 
 a call from a town in a Western territory. He left very sud- 
 denly. About two weeks later Abe learned that Rex Warde- 
 man, the one who knocked his mother down in the cabin, 
 breaking her jawbone, was riding three times a week into the 
 next county to visit a lady whom it was rumored he would 
 soon marry. 
 
 Abe set about to learn the truth. He was informed by his 
 friends in the Wardeman home that such was the fact; that 
 Rex seldom returned home earlier than 2 a. m., and that he 
 traveled the same path night and day. Abe was also told 
 that Rex was always heavily armed. 
 
 After an inspection of the path traveled, Abe found, at a 
 point remote from any road or habitation, two trees, opposite 
 each other, close to the path, to which wild grapevines were 
 clinging. By pulling one of these vines nearer the earth it 
 could be so arranged that a person riding horseback would be 
 swept off his mount by it. Abe selected the following Wednes- 
 day night for his attempt, it being the dark of the moon. 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 EEX rode away from his lady's home whistling softly 
 to himself. As he drew nearer and nearer Abe's 
 trap he became drowsy and permitted his horse to 
 make its own way along the path unaided, the bridle rein 
 hanging loose. When the animal came upon the vine, as Abe 
 had arranged it, it instinctively lowered its head and quick- 
 ened its pace, and as it passed under the vine Rex was caught 
 and lifted from the saddle. 
 
 Before he realized what had happened Abe was upon him. 
 He seized Rex by the throat and pinioned him to the ground. 
 Then began a desperate struggle for the possession of the 
 pistol that Rex carried, and but for the strangle hold Abe had 
 on Rex's throat the pistol would have been used with deadly 
 effect upon Abe. As it was, Rex succeeded in getting his 
 hand in his coat pocket, where the pistol was concealed, before 
 Abe rendered him selpless. 
 
 Abe bound Rex and took him back into the marsh, where 
 he had prepared for the vengeance that had mastered him. 
 When Rex again gained consciousness and realized into whose 
 hands he had fallen, his fear and abject cowardice were 
 despicable. Abe sat by quietly waiting for the sun to dispel 
 the darkness, that he might be better able to complete his 
 work. Rex, true to his "cracker" nature, begged and prom- 
 ised Abe to make all amends possible. 
 
 "Fer God's sake, Mr. Abe, ain't yer got no heart in yer 
 body ? " he pleaded. ' ' Yer knows my pappy has got a plenty 
 money. 'Deed, sah, he'll pay yer lots thirty, forty, fifty 
 only let me go home to my ole pappy!" 
 
 While making these supplications Rex raised himself upon 
 his knees and drew closer to Abe, who dealt him a terrible 
 blow on the head, which rendered him unconscious. The sun 
 was high in the heavens when Rex again opened his eyes, and 
 
 147 
 
148 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 the sight that revealed itself to him caused him to tremble and 
 close them again. 
 
 Abe, who had been watching him, observed that he had 
 regained consciousness, and told him that his time had come ; 
 that he had five minutes to prepare to meet his Maker. 
 
 Rex, cringing, whining and pleading, dragged himself to 
 Abe's feet, begging to be spared. Abe spurned him, refusing 
 to say another word. 
 
 At the expiration of the alloted time Abe took his victim 
 to a stump, to which, after stripping him of all clothing, he 
 bound him, and proceeded to administer the trace to his bare 
 back in a regular stroke. 
 
 Rex pleaded, yelled, threatened, cursed, and, finally, made 
 a last frantic effort to break the thongs that bound him to 
 his post of torture, exclaiming : 
 
 1 i I won 't die ! I '11 see my po ' mammy ! ' ' 
 
 This yell of Rex's seemed to arouse the half -slumbering 
 demon in Abe. 
 
 "Your poor mammy? Curse you! Curse you for a cow- 
 ardly hound! Beat my mother to death.! Beat the flesh off 
 the nude body of my sister ! Curse you ! Curse you ! Your 
 damnable crime is now being punished ! ' ' yelled Abe. 
 
 As Abe was delivering himself of these imprecations his 
 fury seemed to redouble. He belabored Rex with both hands, 
 until, in his mad frenzy, he fell exhausted beside the limp and 
 lifeless body of his victim. 
 
 Had one of Rex's many friends happened upon the scene 
 at this time Abe would have become his easy captive. When 
 he recovered he stood for some moments seemingly appalled 
 by the terrible crime he had committed. 
 
 The lifeless body of Rex hung to the post, torn and bleeding. 
 
 After his first fright, Abe concluded to hang a piece of the 
 horse trace about the neck of his victim and leave him to be 
 found by his friends or the vultures, and then made his way 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 149 
 
 back to the Overlay place. Upon his arrival Malcolm wanted 
 to know where he had been and what he had been doing. 
 
 " Malcolm, suppose I tell you just what I have done, will 
 that not make you a party to my crime, or whatever you may 
 call it?" asked Abe. "No, Malcolm, I guess I had better 
 not tell you." 
 
 After a moment Malcolm asked: "Why, Abe, can you not 
 trust me?" 
 
 ' ' Oh, that is not- the point. I can trust you, but I do not 
 want to draw you into this affair of mine. ' ' 
 
 While they were talking one of Black Sue's boys rode up 
 to the gate on Rex's horse and asked if they knew the horse 
 and to whom it belonged. When asked where it came from, 
 the boy stated that he found it in the back lot on Nick 
 Lashum's place. Nobody on that place seemed to know to 
 whom the horse belonged. Malcolm did not know. As the 
 boy left Malcolm turned to Abe with the inquiry : * ' Abe, who 
 rode that horse to his death last night? Tell me; I want 
 to know. ' ' 
 
 "Well," said Abe, " if you must know, Rex Vardeman 
 fell from it last night about five miles back in the timber. 
 When I left him this morning his soul was in Paradise." 
 
 * ' Abe, what have you done ? ' ' 
 
 "What I promised my poor mother I would do," replied 
 Abe quickly. 
 
 When the boy on Rex 's horse reached the main road he soon 
 found persons who knew the animal and who directed him to 
 take it to the Wardeman place. The Wardeman home was 
 quiet, nothing having been thought of Rex's non-appearance. 
 But, when the horse was brought in, the fear was expressed 
 that he had been thrown and lay somewhere in the timber, 
 hurt and helpless. The boy was questioned as to where he 
 found the horse. He, of course, knew nothing. A searching 
 party was soon formed and on its way to the timber to find 
 Rex. They were not successful, however, returning as dark- 
 
150 
 
 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ness came on. But the next morning with the returning sun 
 a party of searchers rode away from the Wardeman place. 
 This party, spread out over a large area of timber and soon 
 came upon the mangled and lifeless body of Rex. At a glance 
 it was apparent to all that human hands had brought about 
 Rex's death. The opinions as to who committed the deed 
 were numerous and varied. Si Weedels, who was ever present 
 on occasions of this kind and ready with his advice, was of the 
 opinion that the brothers of the girl whom Rex was visiting 
 were the parties who took the young man's life. His decision 
 may have been influenced by the fact that one of these boys 
 had beaten him in a horse trade. It is strange, but not one 
 of the assembled searchers thought of Abe. All agreed that 
 some fiend among the whites was responsible for the killing. 
 
 Young Joe Wheatley, the Sheriff, who was present, said 
 nothing, but listened to the story of each man, all the time 
 firmly convinced that he knew the probable murderer. - After 
 a coroner's jury had returned a verdict declaring that Rex's 
 death was caused "by a party or parties unknown to the 
 jury," the clans of each county began to arm and to watch 
 each other. Buck Lashum, not being in a condition physically 
 to lead his clan, the leadership passed to Tom Smaly, who was 
 known for his drunken brutality. 
 
 After a day's hard riding, following the hounds in a great 
 fox hunt, Tom Smaly was not to be found among those who 
 gathered at Goose Neck Inn to commemorate and celebrate the 
 day's sport. His absence at first caused some comment, but 
 mirth ran high, and rum flowed so freely that his absence was 
 soon forgotten. It was not until next morning that his 
 brother fully realized that Tom was missing. After an all-day 
 search the body of Tom was found in the same condition and 
 in the same place that Rex Wardeman 's was not so long 
 before. 
 
 When it became known that another white man had been 
 killed in the same manner, at the same place, the wise people 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 151 
 
 began to shake their heads. Some were in favor of calling on 
 the Governor for a detective to ferret out the murderers; 
 
 others were opposed to such a move, claiming that A 
 
 County could look after its own affairs; that a county is the 
 same as a State, inasmuch as it has the right to handle all 
 matters that arise within its borders. 
 
 While these fiery arguments as to county rights were in 
 full swing at Goose Neck Inn, one of Black Sue's boys, a 
 worthless mixture of Black Sue and Nick Lashum, came for- 
 ward with the story that he saw Abe riding away from the 
 place where Tom Smaly was found. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE next morning a self-appointed posse of citizens, 
 good and true, soon formed for the purpose of 
 finding Abe and lynching him. Within a very 
 short time after the mob was in possession of this infor- 
 mation Abe and the whole Overley plantation were 
 warned. Messengers were sent out hurriedly for friends who 
 could be depended on to aid in case of trouble. This mob, 
 more or less liquorized, under the leadership of Si Weedles, 
 mounted on a borrowed horse, he never having been able to 
 recover from the disastrous horse trade mentioned above, 
 swearing vengeance and promising great things, was soon on 
 its way to the Overley plantation. As they drew near the 
 place a discussion arose as to the gate they should enter. 
 Some were for going through the big gate, while others favored 
 the back cut. 
 
 "Ole Mai Overley is so d funny/' said their leader, in 
 deciding to go in the back way, ''that he might git mad and 
 shoot somebody when he see so many of us comin ' up his front 
 way. It ain't proper fer no white man to git killed fer no 
 'nigger.' " 
 
 These people passed through the barnyard on their way to 
 the veranda of the great house, where they found Malcolm 
 Overley and a friend quietly smoking. When they lined up 
 in front of him, off came their hats. Overley sat calmly sur- 
 veying them, waiting for the leader to make known their 
 business. As no one of them spoke, he demanded in an 
 angry voice: 
 
 "What the h do you d meadow hogs want on my 
 place?" at the same time thrusting his hand into his coat 
 pocket, which movement caused them much uneasiness. 
 
 Si Weedles started up the steps of the veranda at the same 
 
 time, saying: "Sah, Mr. Overley, we are on a " 
 
 152 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 153 
 
 ''Stand where you are/' interrupted Malcolm Overley. 
 ' ' Who the h told you your place was up here ? ' ' 
 
 Si moved back quickly to his comrades, with whom he held 
 a short consultation, after which he again addressed Malcolm 
 Overley, saying, as before: "Sah, Mr. Overley, we is here 
 on a mission of law and order. We has hearn that your 
 ' nigger ' Abe is the one that is guilty of killing po ' Tom Smaly 
 and we came arter him ; we wants to axe him about hit. ' ' 
 
 4 ' Who the h made the likes of you sheriff of this county ? 
 What the damnation business is it of yours who killed that 
 d hound ? You d meadow hogs dare to come to my place 
 demanding my boy ! You better get off this place, and never 
 put foot on it again, or I will be found shooting the crumbs 
 off you!" 
 
 When he delivered this speech he called to Malcolm to bring 
 him his gun. Malcolm appeared at the door with a Win- 
 chester in his hands. At the same time windows suddenly 
 opened and the muzzles of guns were to be seen. Si became 
 very nervous. Three of his comrades left hurriedly. Si 
 attempted to explain and excuse himself and friends, but was 
 cut short by an order to leave, and leave "damn quick." At 
 that moment the sound of clattering horse 's hoofs were heard 
 on the road leading to the house. Sheriff Wheatley and two 
 Deputy Sheriffs dashed up. 
 
 "What is the matter here?" demanded the Sheriff of Si and 
 four of his friends all that were now left of the twenty who 
 made the charge from Goose Neck Inn. 
 
 "We jes' earned here to axe Mr. Overley 'bout his 'nigger 7 
 Abe. We certainly didn't mean no harm. We is law'bidin' 
 citizens, we is." 
 
 "You people get away from here, and remember that I am 
 Sheriff of this county, and that it is not your business to 
 arrest people. If you have any information that will lead to 
 the capture of the man or men who killed Tom Smaly, give it 
 to me. It is not your business to enforce the law. If I ever 
 
154 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 see or hear of anyone of you five men being on any man's 
 place on such a mission as you are now engaged in, I will put 
 you among the breakers. Now, go!" 
 
 "Yes, sah, Mr. Joe, we is goin','' answered Si Weedles, as 
 they hurried back through the barnyard. 
 
 When Si and his companions had left the place Malcolm A. 
 Overley, Sr., greeted the Sheriff very cordially, saying: "Joe, 
 my boy, I am proud of you. You know better than any man 
 in this county how to handle those 'crackers.' Come up and 
 let me introduce you to my friend, a friend of my College 
 days from Nova Scotia. ' ' 
 
 After some general conversation, the stranger said: 
 "Sheriff, I heard Mr. Overley and you use some expressions 
 to those men which they seemed to understand, but which I 
 did not. Mr. Overley 's expression was, 'shoot the crumbs 
 off you.' What in the world do you mean by that?" This 
 question brought forth a peal of laughter from all those 
 present. 
 
 "Well," answered the Sheriff, "that is a slang phrase that 
 should carry an insult with it. It means that the person so 
 addressed is low and filthy. I am surprised that a fine old 
 gentleman of Mr. Malcolm A. Overley 's caliber should make 
 use of such slang. Had it been just plain cuss words I would 
 not have been a bit surprised. But what did I say ? ' ' 
 
 "Your expression was, 'I will put you among the break- 
 ers.' " 
 
 "That expression translated would read, 'I will put you 
 in the chain gang to break stone,' " laughed the Sheriff. 
 
 "Well, well," said the stranger; "apt, indeed. I could but 
 notice its effect on those men. We do not have that class of 
 men in our section." 
 
 The Sheriff left, saying : " I am very glad to have met you. 
 I hope you may learn to sight a rifle close enough to shoot the 
 crumps off a 'cracker.' ' 
 
 Two days later Black Sue's son was found hanging by the 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 155 
 
 neck to a young sapling that had been bent to the ground. 
 He was dead, having strangled to death. Pinned to his breast 
 was a card, upon which the following words were written : 
 
 "Let this be a warning to all 'niggers' who carry tales to 
 the white people." 
 
 When the news of this young man's death reached Black 
 Sue her grief and wrath were pitiable. This drunken, worth- 
 less scion, the most worthless of all her illegitimate brood, was 
 her favorite. Black Sue reached the conclusion that Abe was 
 responsible for her son's death. She, therefore, swore ven- 
 geance upon him. She, like all of her kind, was an adept in 
 gathering and disseminating scandal. She instructed her 
 pickaninnies to say that Abe injured Buck Lashum; that he 
 killed Eex Wardeman ; that he killed Tom Smaly ; that he had 
 now killed their brother. This story soon spread over the 
 county. A demand was made upon the Sheriff for Abe's 
 arrest. Sheriff Wheatley, however, refused, in the absence of 
 facts, to arrest Abe. Feeling and excitement ran high. 
 Those who felt the burden of the affairs of the county most 
 heavily met every day at Goose Neck Inn, and their sessions 
 continued until midnight, when the bar was closed. Si 
 Weedels, always the busiest and most ragged citizen at these 
 sessions, had undergone another change of heart with regard 
 to Abe. Some of his friends were heartless enough to express 
 the suspicion that the sight of the Winchesters at the Overley 
 place were responsible for this sudden change. Si was loud 
 in his protestations, and grew louder as the night grew 
 shorter. He now insists that "no ' nigger' had the nerve to 
 kill a white man like that. Whoever hearn of a ' nigger ' doin ' 
 sich a thing ! Black Sue and her pickaninnies has caused all 
 the trouble in this hyre county for the past ten years. Them 
 people was killed by some oncivilized critter in the next 
 county." Thus Si talked and argued with kindred spirits, 
 while the weeds grew up to his doorsill and the holes in his 
 boots and pants grew larger. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 TO DISCUSS the mysterious deaths noted in the previous 
 chapter, and to devise ways and means by which 
 these mysteries could be solved, Nick Lashum and his 
 cronies met at their favorite nook, by the pig sty. Si Weedels 
 was still of the opinion that some * * oncivilized " white man 
 from the next county had done the killing. Jack Smaly was 
 of the opinion that Abe Overley did the deed, or that Burrell 
 ' ' nigger ' ' did it. His cowardly conscience pointed out to him 
 the real source of the calamities which had overtaken his 
 brother and friends. He felt within himself that he would 
 surely be called upon to answer for the part he played in the 
 killing of Abe's mother and sister. Nick Lashum, Sr., could 
 see no reason why any man in the next county should want 
 
 to kill anybody in A County; neither could Casper 
 
 Lashum. 
 
 "Si, yer is suttenly mistook. Who's in thet county thet 
 has got nothin' 'gin anybody in this hyre county? Nobody's 
 bin hurted by them people f er mor 'n twenty yeirs. Not since 
 Jeff Snooks took and killed Ollie Booker and none of these 
 boys 'long to them f am 'lies. No, Sir, yer is mistook. We is 
 got to look ferder'n thet. D , ef I don't tek Black Sue's 
 gess fer hit. Thet 'nigger' Abe done thet killin'. I'se axed 
 my Buck mor'n onct who did thet job for him, but he don't 
 seem ter understan'. By God! I would gin all I'se got ter 
 know! Thet boy war a promisin' boy. He had his faults, 
 but he was a promisin' boy. Now, look at him. Ef I thought 
 thet thet Abe Overley hurted thet boy, I'l kill every d 'nig- 
 ger' in the county; thet I would." 
 
 "What good would that do, father?" asked Nick Lashum, 
 Jr. "The other Negroes did not do it, nor are they respon- 
 sible for what Abe has done." 
 
 156 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 157 
 
 "Thet is jes' lek yer. Forever takin' up fer them 'nig- 
 gers'!" shouted Nick Lashum, Sr. "D ef I knows who 
 teached yer them sentiments. D ef I did." 
 
 "No, you did not, father. Common sense taught me," 
 answered the son, with some warmth. "It does seem to me 
 that men grown would learn something as they pass through 
 this life. When those two women were killed, did you feel 
 that every white man in the county should be killed?" 
 
 "In course I did not. Who the h ever hearn of white 
 men bein' killed fer 'niggers'?" answered Nick, Sr. "Jes' 
 sich talk as thet makes them 'niggers' think they is got the 
 same rights as me and you is got. What right is they got to 
 have one hundred and sixty acres and good horses and cattle 
 horses thet kin come down the road f aster 'n you kin? I tells 
 yer, Mr. Nicholas Lashum, thet yer pappy don't want thet 
 darn talk on his place. D ef I does." This last remark 
 aroused the quarrelsome 'cracker' blood in Nick, Jr., who 
 answered hotly: 
 
 ' ' No, I suppose not. Your whole bunch was so d ignorant 
 the day of the meeting here that you would not let white men 
 talk who had as much right to talk as you had. Now, what 
 is the result? Uncle Casper is out and all the offices are in 
 the hands of the people opposed to you. Your friends are 
 being killed under your very noses, and all you know and all 
 you can say and all you can do is kill a 'nigger.' D such 
 ignorance! I have been with people of brains and standing 
 long enough to learn that killing 'niggers' and burning their 
 property is a mighty sorry way to control anything. While 
 you and your friends were bellowing 'nigger,' these people 
 used their brains and took the office of Sheriff away in one 
 night. Now, your friends are being killed, and you are bel- 
 lowing ' nigger, ' instead of locating the murderer and bringing 
 him to justice. I do not wonder that these people call you 
 'meadow hogs,' 'crackers,' and the devil knows what not. To 
 h with your d brute ideas ! I am cashier of the Pioneer 
 
158 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 Savings Bank. I mingle with the best people of the State. 
 Must I be forever and continually reminded that I belong to 
 a family of murderers ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, thet is very fine talk, but who the h ever hearn of 
 killin' 'niggers' bein' murder?" asked Nick, Sr. 
 
 ' ' Your d d ignorance is simply maddening, ' ' answered the 
 son, with great wrath. "Can you give a 'nigger' life? Have 
 you got a right to take that which you can't give? I don't 
 care a d for these ' niggers, ' but I would like for my family 
 name to stand for something besides brutal assaults and 
 adulterous connection with 'niggers.' If this thing keeps up 
 I shall leave the State and go where the curse of 'cracker' 
 ignorance is unknown ; go where I will not hear at every turn 
 that Nick Lashum says this, and Nick Lashum says that, all of 
 which bespeaks phenomenal ignorance and brutality. I am 
 tired of it all." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose yer is. Yer an' Arabella is the only two 
 thet tells ther ole pappy thet he is ig'rant and all these 
 things," whined the old man. "Yer has al'ays been a good 
 boy, Nick; but can't yer overlook them things thet I learnt 
 when I was a boy?" 
 
 "Overlook h !" yelled the son. "Are you never going to 
 learn anything ? Am I ever to be reminded that my father is 
 different from the fathers I meet out in the world? Your 
 whole bunch of d d ignorant ' crackers ' is despicable ! ' ' and 
 Nick left with an oath applicable to them all. 
 
 When Nick, Jr., left the crowd began to melt away. Soon 
 Jack Smaly, Nick, Sr., Si, and Casper Lashum were left to 
 themselves. Casper said: "Nick, what did I tell yer when 
 yer started thet boy to school twenty odd yeirs ago? I tole 
 yer jes' what 'twud be. You never hearn my boys talk lek 
 thet. Why? 'Cause I knows as much as they does. I took 
 pains not ter let them go no longer than I did. Thet is what 
 I done." 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 159 
 
 "Thet is so, Cas; I rec'on' I'se done wrong. But thet is a 
 smart boy, an ' Arabella is a smart chile. They do. both say 
 a whole lot mor 'n they has a right to, ' ' sighed Nick, Sr. ' ' But 
 what kin I do ? They is learnt now. ' ' 
 
 "We kin git thet 'nigger* Abe and mek him tell," said 
 Jack Smaly. 
 
 "I tells yer, Abe don't know nothin'," said Si; "an', 'sides, 
 he is gone an' lef now." 
 
 "Thet is so, Si; he is gone," said Nick, Sr. ; "but if we 
 should kill some 'niggers' the res' would git skeered and tell 
 all they knows. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, thet is ef they knows," said Casper. "But sposen' 
 they don't know, what 'scuse has yer got fer killin' 'em? 
 Yer suttenly knows thet this county is not run now as it uster 
 be. Joe Wheatley's dun swore thet he won't stan' fer no 
 ' nigger ' killin '. No, we 'se got to go 'bout this thing lek them 
 'big bugs' does. Hire a detective and let him fin' out." 
 
 "Better gin thet job to Black Sue; she kin fin' out; I 
 knows she kin," said Nick, Sr. 
 
 "Well, yer suit yerself," said Si; "but I says make Black 
 Sue keep her d mouth outen this whole matter. It's a 
 white man's business." 
 
 "Yer is right, Si," said Casper; "no 'nigger' kin be trusted 
 in this matter." 
 
 "Well, yer and Si do as yer d please," said Nick. "I 
 leaves the whole thing to yuens. But, one thing I tell yer, 
 when thet mortgage on ole Mai's place comes due, I'll know 
 what to do; yo'll see." 
 
 "Thet is so, Nick," said Casper; "I had mos' forgot thet 
 mortgage. Yer will suttenly be a dumb fool if yer don't sell 
 him out. I'll be right there to git the place when the sale 
 comes off." 
 
 "No yer won't, by a d sight!" said Nick. "What yer 
 recon' I'se been holdin' them papers fer all these yeirs? To 
 
160 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 let yer come in and git what I wants? Youse a fine brother, 
 yer is ! Wan ' ter rob yer own flesh and blood ? ' ' 
 
 ''How's thet robbin' yer?" asked Casper, warmly. "Yer 
 is sich a d hog thet yer wants the best of everything. Yer 
 tooked thet Burrell place from them 'nigger' children, which 
 o'ny cos' yer one hundred and forty dollars, court cos's, an' 
 yer promised to gin me eighty acres of thet Ian ' an ' yer didn 't 
 do hit. I fixed thet deal fer yer, and yer keeps the whole 
 hundred and sixty acres, an' I gits nothin'. Thet's the kin'er 
 brother yer is. Then say I wants ter rob yer ! Ter h with 
 thet talk!" 
 
 "Gas, yer and Nick's ferever cussin' at each other," said 
 Si. ' ' Is yer never goin ' ter get ter act lek men when yer gits 
 tergether? I wants yer both to do better, d if I don't." 
 
 Si's remark caused a laugh, accompanied as it was by an 
 attitude of authority. 
 
 In spite of the suggestions offered, this assemblage broke 
 up without reaching a definite conclusion as to the killings. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 EN THE meantime Abe had expressed his determination to 
 Mr. Overley to quit the place, as the "crackers" were 
 aroused to a point where it was likely they would fire 
 the house and barn because of the fact that Mr. Overley pro- 
 tected him. The senior Overley, however, would not listen to 
 Abe's protests, insisting that he was master on his own place. 
 At this time Abe was approached by an Italian with whom he 
 had been very friendly and who had worked for the Lashums 
 for some time. He seemed to understand the whole situation 
 and endeavored to persuade Abe to use bombs on the white 
 people of the county. 
 
 "Abe, I maka de bomb. I learna in my country. I shoota 
 one little birda. Da Count a de Costigni he beat a me. I fixa 
 de bomb under his door stepa. He cornea. Buoy! Buoy! 
 Ha! Ha! His heada go one waya, his feeta keep on run- 
 ning. I geta my revenga! I leava my country. I go backa 
 some day rich mana. I liva and diea good mana. I makea 
 you de bomb. No? Bah! No revenga?" 
 
 * * No, Tony, ' ' said Abe, " I do not want your bombs. I have 
 no quarrel with the whole county. Five men killed my 
 mother. Two of them are dead. Three live. One worse 
 than dead. He shall die, however. That leaves two more to 
 be accounted for. Were I to use a bomb on the first white 
 man that comes along, simply because he is a white man, I 
 would commit a cowardly crime, for which I would deserve 
 the worst punishment. This is not a question of race with 
 me. But it is a step back to medieval days, when brothers 
 avenged brothers' wrongs; when the State was not strong 
 enough, as in this case, to right such wrongs. The time is now 
 come when Negroes should kill the man or men who on the 
 slightest provocation lynch or take the lives of their kinsmen. 
 When they learn to do that, we will have fewer murders of 
 
 161 
 
162 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 this character to mar our civilization. With me your bomb is 
 impossible. ' ' 
 
 "You say civilizationa. Thata for biga mana, not for poor 
 mana and blacka mana. No. Civilizationa no gooda." 
 
 Two years later it was announced in the County Bulletin 
 that Caesar Antonio Amato, of Reggio, Italy, had married 
 Miss Josephine Walsh, a descendant of one of the oldest 
 families of the State of Alabama. It is to be hoped that 
 Amato "absorbed" the American idea to the point where he 
 could understand the meaning of our civilization. 
 
 At this writing we do not understand the American civiliza- 
 tion. 
 
 About this time Malcolm received a long letter from 
 DeVaux and his Tennessee friend. They were spending the 
 summer automobiling through the far West. It bore the post- 
 mark of a small town in Nevada. That portion of the letter 
 which was of most interest to us reads as follows: 
 
 Your section of the country certainly produces some queer 
 characters, to say the least. I have just had the honor of 
 meeting a preacher, an exhorter, a regular romping, roaring, 
 raging, rambling backwoods parson of the kind who attracts 
 attention by the use of his lungs, if nothing else. This man, 
 together with his wife ( ? ) , whom he claims to be a mixed- 
 breed Indian, but whose language would indicate that she 
 is a mixed-breed Negro, has charge of the only church in this 
 whole country. When we first called on him he was not quite 
 steady enough for an interview; but when we saw him later, 
 after his nap, he gave us his life's history. I was surprised 
 to learn that he came from your county. He seems to be very 
 well acquainted with Buck Lashum. He says Buck's horse 
 crippled him. Such a pity. Have you a school of theology 
 in your county? You have an advantage over me. You are 
 living in an atmosphere of greatness. Rev. and Mrs. Timothy 
 Wardeman are living evidences of greatness, and they hail 
 from your county ! How is your friend Abe bearing up ? I 
 hope he has done nothing rash. Will you and he return to 
 College? Miss D. was in California this summer, so I am 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 163 
 
 informed. You may know that, however. With kindest 
 regards to Abe, 
 
 Yours, 
 
 DEVAUX. 
 
 Abe sat silent for some moments after the reading of this 
 epistle, then said: " Again have those young men done me a 
 very great service; this time unconsciously. I have tried in 
 vain to locate Tim Wardeman. This letter, with its informa- 
 tion, comes at a very opportune time. I had made up my 
 mind to go in search of him, which would have been a long, 
 tedious hunt. Now I can go direct. His wife ! Black Sue 's 
 girl Viney ! She disappeared about the time Tim did, and 
 I have no doubt it is she who is with him. But we shall soon 
 know. Malcolm, when do you start for College?" 
 
 "When do I start for College?" asked Malcolm. "Have 
 you concluded not to go? We should start next Wednesday. 
 Dad said last night that we were to finish this year; that he is 
 very proud of the showing we have made. Have you talked 
 to your father about going?" 
 
 "Poor old dad! I had almost forgotten him. No, I have 
 not. I have had very little to say to him on any subject. He 
 will, of course, want me to finish my course; but I do not 
 feel that I should remain at College after what I have passed 
 through in the last two months. I shall leave here for Oberlin 
 when you do, however. I will then make my way out West. 
 I am sorry that I must leave Jack Smaly and Buck alive, but 
 I will return about Christmas." 
 
 Abe then went to his father, whom he found sitting silent 
 and alone, apparently weighted down by the burden of events 
 which have so rapidly succeeded the taking off of his loved 
 ones. 
 
 "Dad, you seem worried," said Abe. "What is the 
 trouble?" 
 
 "Yes, my son, I is worried," answered the father. "I'se 
 worried 'bout yo'. Two munts hab yo' been home an' yo' has 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 not spent two nights wid yo' ole dad. My son, my ole heart 
 tells me that all's not right wid yo'. When de Great Day dun 
 kum, an de question's axed yo' what yo' dun wid dem two 
 munts, what yo' goin' say? Oh, my po' boy, what kin yo' 
 say?" 
 
 The old man's head dropped to his breast, his whole body 
 quivered, tears ran down his careworn cheeks, his whole atti- 
 tude was one of dejection, of despair. Abe stood for some 
 moments gazing intently at his father, whose age and helpless- 
 ness were apparent to him now as never before. He suddenly 
 realized what a blow his determination to live for revenge had 
 been to his old Christian father. His heart swelled with 
 remorse, but his purpose was not shaken for one moment. He 
 knelt before his father, whose hands he took in his own, 
 saying : 
 
 "Dad, why spend your last days worrying over a thing 
 which neither of us can remedy ? You say this case can only 
 be settled at the bar of God. Dad, I sincerely regret that any 
 action of mine should cause you trouble, but my mother's 
 death calls for revenge." 
 
 "My boy, does yo' 'member what de good Lawd say on dat 
 .it? He say dat 'revenge is mine.' Does yo' feel yo'se'f 
 stronger dan He am? Does yo' feel dat you is on dis eart' to 
 do His work or His biddin'? Oh, my po' boy, what I teach 
 yo' when yo' a leetle boy at yo' po' mammy's knee? Did I 
 teach you to be Vengeful ? What has y o ' lef ' f o ' de Lawd to 
 do in dis matter? My boy, it am yo' ole dad's wish dat yo' 
 goes ba'k to school and leve dese pussons in de han's of de 
 Lawd. If yo' does dat, yo' will tek yo' ole fodder's blessin' 
 wid yo'." 
 
 As Abe's father spoke these words he laid his hands upon 
 his son's head, with a mental supplication to Almighty God 
 that He direct Abe anew. 
 
 "Father," answered Abe, "I have come to you to say that 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 165 
 
 I will go with Malcolm next Wednesday when he leaves for 
 school." 
 
 The old man closed his eyes and murmured : ' ' Lawd, I 
 thank Thee!" 
 
 Abe remained with his father listening to the old man's 
 admonitions and advice, and when he finally left him Abe 
 had promised, by implication at least, that he would do what 
 his father wanted him to do. He went immediately to Mal- 
 colm, to whom he unburdened himself. 
 
 "Malcolm, for the first time in my whole life, I have lied 
 to my father. I have promised him to do what I do not intend 
 to do, and did not intend to do at the time I promised him. 
 Oh, I have deceived him shamefully!" 
 
 "Abe, what have you promised?" asked Malcolm. 
 
 "I have not promised anything in words, but by inference 
 I have promised to leave Buck Lashum, Tim Wardeman and 
 Jack Smaly in the hands of the Lord. I have led my father 
 to believe that I am going to College with you and forget all 
 about my promise to my mother that I would avenge her. 
 God knows what effect it will have upon him when he learns 
 the truth!" 
 
 * l Abe, why did you not tell him the truth ? ' ' asked Malcolm. 
 
 "Malcolm, I could not. If you had heard that confiding 
 old man talk you would have done just as I did. The Lord 
 will forgive me. I did it that dad may sleep in peace, at least 
 until he learns the truth. I told him that I would go to Col- 
 lege with you next Wednesday. That much is the truth. ' ' 
 
 "Well, Abe, you are certainly in a very awkward position. 
 You must tell my father before he makes arrangement for 
 your tuition." 
 
 "Malcolm, let us go to him at once. I want this thing 
 settled now." 
 
 They found the senior Overley dozing on the veranda, Old 
 Abe being at the barn looking after the stock. 
 
166 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I have come to talk to you about my going 
 off to College with Malcolm next Wednesday," said Abe. 
 
 ' ' You have, have you ? Damnation ! Do you think I want 
 you to wake me up to talk about your d school? Didn't I 
 say go? How long have you been on this place that you 
 haven't yet learned that I sleep at this hour? You did well 
 last year. "What the h do you learn at school, that you 
 don't know better than to disturb an old man during the 
 hour he sleeps? You, both! Malcolm, I am displeased that 
 you let Abe awaken me." 
 
 "Yes, dad, I'm sorry, but " 
 
 ' * But ? ' ' interrupted the father, now thoroughly awakened ; 
 "what is the matter? What have you young devils hatched 
 now?" 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I want to tell you how I am going to devote 
 this school year. I hope you will bear with me." 
 
 Abe then related all that had passed between himself and 
 his father ; also his determination to find Tim Wardeman and 
 wreak vengeance on him. 
 
 The senior Overley listened attentively. When Abe had 
 finished he sat silent, with his eyes closed, apparently lost in 
 thought. Neither Malcolm nor Abe dared speak. 
 
 "So, you want to go out West to kill somebody, do you? 
 Well, if I thought you killed the two valuable citizens who 
 were found dead back in the woods I would have you hanged, 
 that I would. And you do not feel that you ought to go back 
 to College? Why?" 
 
 "I do not know at what moment the hand of the law may 
 reach me. I do not desire to bring disgrace upon the College 
 by being arrested while there," answered Abe. 
 
 "Well, I never looked at this d business in that light 
 before," said Mr. Overley. "How are you going to live?" 
 
 1 ' I have no fear along those lines, ' ' answered Abe. ' ' I want 
 to get back here by Christmas. I think that Jack Smaly 
 would like to meet me about that time. I shall avail myself 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 167 
 
 of your kindness as far as Oberlin College, then I will drop 
 out of sight. ' ' 
 
 ' * H , boy, you are welcome to money to pay your way out 
 and back. I know that a good citizen would not let you have 
 this money, but . I do not want you to walk that dis- 
 tance. ' ' 
 
 "I thank you very much, Mr. Overley," said Abe; "but I 
 cannot accept any assistance from you. I know it is needless 
 to ask it, but you will look after my father ? ' ' 
 
 "Look arter me?" said a voice from the yard. "Whose 
 been lookin' arter him dese sixty-five yeirs? How's he goin' 
 to look arter me?" 
 
 With the arrival of Old Abe the conversation turned to the 
 approaching departure of the boys. Abe's determination not 
 to attend College the ensuing year was not again mentioned 
 by Malcolm A. Overley, Sr. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HE day of their leaving came only too quickly, and the 
 boys were on their way to Oberlin. It was agreed 
 between them that upon their arrival Abe would call 
 upon Miss Watson, see Dr. Finley, and leave the town imme- 
 diately. He went from the station direct to Miss Watson's 
 home. Their eyes met in a long, steadfast gaze, the one bear- 
 ing the mute inquiry, "What have you done?" the other 
 conveying the desired information. Miss Watson asked no 
 questions. She seemed to know intuitively that Abe had kept 
 his promise to the dead. 
 
 "Abe, will you finish your course this year?" she asked. 
 
 "No, Nancy; I am on my way out West," answered Abe. 
 "I hope to be with you again just before Christmas. I have 
 stopped in Oberlin to talk to you, also to pay my respects to 
 your parents. I expect to visit Dr. Finley, Dean Sternly and 
 Mr. Donewell, after which I shall leave the town." 
 
 By good fortune, Abe, after leaving the Watson home, found 
 the three persons whom he most desired to see in the Doctor's 
 office. He was greeted very cordially by them. The Doctor, 
 assuming that Abe was back for the school year, immediately 
 began to compliment him upon his determination to finish his 
 College course. Abe's embarrassment was not at first apparent 
 to the Doctor, who, when he did notice his confusion, asked 
 for an explanation. Abe stated briefly that unforeseen cir- 
 cumstances had arisen that would not permit his attendance 
 at College this year ; that he had stopped in Oberlin to see his 
 friends and say good-bye to them, and that he was going out 
 West and might never return. Abe's vow to avenge the 
 deaths of his mother and sister was known to the Doctor, Dean 
 Sternly and Mr. Donewell, and they felt that that vow was the 
 basic cause of his determination not to attend College this 
 
 168 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 169 
 
 year. Dr. Finley arose from his seat greatly agitated. He 
 walked over to Abe, placing his hand on his shoulder, saying : 
 
 "My son, may I not speak to you in God's name? Listen 
 to me, an old man, who has passed the three-score-and-ten 
 mark, and who firmly believes in the brotherhood of mankind. 
 In God's name, do not leave this College; do not go on this 
 errand to the West ; do not begin this wreaking of vengeance ; 
 do not put yourself without the pale of the law ; do not do that 
 which will bring the wrath of God upon you. Leave this 
 matter in His hands. I know that your provocation has been 
 great. I know that you cannot invoke the aid of the law. I 
 know that you feel, from your point of view, that revenge is 
 the only course open to you. But, why take this matter in 
 your own hands? Why take your own life in your own 
 hands? Why leave off the building of a useful life, as you 
 seem to have determined to do?" 
 
 "Doctor, my mother's death will then have been avenged," 
 answered Abe. 
 
 "Avenged!" exclaimed the Doctor. "A false doctrine! 
 To be avenged you would violate the law of the land; to be 
 avenged you would take your own life in your hands; to be 
 avenged you would forever put aside the building of a useful 
 life, put aside the opportunities that are open to you, forever 
 put aside, dwarf, deaden and transform into an agency for 
 evil those faculties which God seldom bestows upon man in 
 such abundance. My son, I repeat, you will do all these things 
 to be avenged, and after you have been avenged what have you 
 accomplished f ' ' 
 
 Abe stood looking at the Doctor. His form seemed to 
 heighten and expand. Finally he answered in slow and meas- 
 ured tones : 
 
 ' ' Doctor, not being a Negro, you cannot understand nor can 
 you appreciate my feelings in this matter. Taking your last 
 argument first, granting that God has bestowed upon me in 
 an unusual degree faculties that are susceptible to cultivation, 
 
170 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 .must I not also be endowed with the accompanying sensibilities 
 that would tend to make up the mentality of which you speak ? 
 Doctor, had your mother, YOUR MOTHER, mark you, been 
 treated as mine was, though she was ten times guilty of what 
 my mother was so wrongfully accused; had your sister been 
 lashed upon her nude body until death relieved her sufferings, 
 even though she had been guilty of murder would you stifle 
 in your breast your desire for vengeance when you knew that 
 the processes of law were a farce and there was no such thing 
 as justice? With no other means of redress but retaliation. 
 and no remedy for the wrong except the torch, the knife or 
 the club, would you refuse to hear the cry for vengeance from 
 your dead mother and sister ? Doctor, God may have endowed 
 me as abundantly as you say, but the one gift from the great 
 Jehovah for which I am truly thankful is this right arm of 
 mine ! ' ' 
 
 As Abe spoke these words he raised his arm aloft in all the 
 pride of youth and conscious strength of manhood. Then, 
 with a sudden burst of passion, he exclaimed: 
 
 "Doctor, what do I now care for law, life or liberty? 
 Could I go calmly through this life, trusting to a force which 
 I can neither see nor feel, conscious that the brutes who foully 
 murdered my loved ones, my poor old mother and my young 
 sister, are enjoying liberty? Would I be a man? Would 
 you, under such circumstances, bow your head, clasp your 
 hands and trust in the Lord? Life is worth nothing to me 
 now. I go forth from here with the deliberate determination 
 to take the lives of those who murdered my poor mother." 
 
 When Abe had finished a silence fell upon the assemblage 
 that was broken by Mr. Donewell, who invited Abe to walk to 
 his home with him. 
 
 * ' Mr. Overley, ' ' said Dr. Donewell, ' ' what do you expect to 
 do after you have kept your vow ? I have invited you to walk 
 with me that I might ask you this question. I am not censur- 
 ing you, mark you, but, as I place myself in your position, I 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 171 
 
 can see nothing that I could do. My life would be a blank. 
 Have you considered well the step you have taken?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Donewell, I have considered," answered Abe. 
 "and if I do not forfeit my life in this attempt, the time 
 allotted me from the consummation of my vow to eternity will 
 be spent in the upbuilding of my people in some foreign land, 
 perhaps. But I am frank to say that I feel that I have noth- 
 ing for which to live. Why should I care to live? My poor 
 old father, now on the very brink of the Great Beyond, is 
 all that binds me to this earth." 
 
 "Why, Mr. Oveiiey," asked Mr. Donewell, "I hoped there 
 might be a young lady somewhere who would influence you to 
 resume your course at this College?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Abe, "there is a young lady from whom 
 I wrung a promise when the enormity of this crime was upon 
 her, but who is too good, too pure, to have her life linked to 
 one whose hands will be red with human blood. When I next 
 see her I shall bid her forget me. I shall give back her prom- 
 ise. I shall then be an outcast, a homeless wanderer, an out- 
 law, maybe, with my hand raised against mankind and a price 
 upon my head. God alone knows how it will end. But, no 
 matter how it ends, no matter what I am forced to do, the 
 dying cries of my poor mother and my outraged sister shall be 
 answered by the dying cries of their brutal murderers. 
 Though I face death at the fiery stake in this world, though 
 I am sure to be engulfed in the fires of hell in the next world, 
 my mother shall be avenged ! ' ' 
 
 As Abe uttered these words he stopped short, looked Mr. 
 Donewell full in the face, and remarked: "Perhaps I had 
 better not go further, sir; I am already a murderer." 
 
 Mr. Donewell gazed at Abe for some moments in silence. 
 In spite of his conviction that Abe was wrong in his determi- 
 nation, he could not but admire him. The thought ran through 
 his mind that here is a splendid life wrecked, one of God's 
 rare creations, one of nature's noblemen, made wretched and 
 
172 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 reckless by the wanton killing of his mother and sister a 
 killing directly traceable to lust and drunken brutality. After 
 some moments' silence, Mr. Donewell took Abe by the arm, 
 resuming their walk. 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I feel for you. My heart is with you, but 
 my reason tells me that you are wrong. I would to God that 
 I might be of some service to you, that I could say or do some- 
 thing that might help you to the right course! What can I 
 do to help you?" 
 
 ' ' Mr. Donewell, I know of nothing you can do for me ; but 
 away down in the State of Alabama there are two old men 
 who are dear to me, who have made great sacrifices for me. 
 I wish there were some way in which you could look after 
 them and help them to spend their last days in peace on the 
 old plantation. Mr. Donewell, do this, and you will surely 
 be rewarded in heaven. I will leave you now, sir." 
 
 As Abe extended his hand to his friend, his eyes filled with 
 tears. He said simply: "Good-bye, Mr. Donewell; I may 
 never see you again." 
 
 "Good-bye, my boy," was all that Mr. Donewell could say. 
 
CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 HEN left to himself, Dr. Donewell recalled Abe's 
 words, "see that they spend their last days in 
 peace on the old plantation. ' ' After some thought 
 he recalled Dr. Finley's remarks concerning the conditions 
 under which Malcolm and Abe entered the College. He deter- 
 mined to have a thorough investigation made at once, which 
 investigation resulted in the disclosure that the mortgage on 
 the Overley place was about to be foreclosed; that some of 
 Malcolm A. Overley 's friends were pooling their money to 
 buy the place in for him. 
 
 Mr. Donewell instructed his solicitor to buy the place in at 
 any cost. When the day of sale came, Nick, being precluded 
 from bidding, left that duty to Casper. The bidding started 
 slowly, and it seemed at first as if the probable price brought 
 would not pay the mortgage. Soon a stranger raised the last 
 bid of Casper's one thousand dollars. Casper stood aghast. 
 He raised the bid one hundred dollars, however. The stranger 
 bid one thousand dollars more. Casper yelled, "Five hun- 
 dred dollars mor'n thet last bid!" The stranger calmly bid 
 one thousand dollars more. Neither Nick Lashum nor his 
 cohorts could understand this move. They consulted together, 
 after which, at the request of the auctioneer, they bid one 
 hundred dollars more. 
 
 The stranger, who was seated in a public carry-all, arose, 
 remarking in a loud voice: "Mr. Auctioneer, I propose to 
 have this place, if it costs me a half million. I bid twenty- 
 five hundred dollars more ! ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Casper Lashum, will you let this grand old place get 
 away from you for seventeen thousand five hundred dollars? 
 Do I hear a bid of one hundred dollars more? Seventeen 
 thousand five hundred dollars for property which is worth 
 
 173 
 
174 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 more than fifty thousand dollars! Mr. Zeph Smaly, do I 
 hear one hundred dollars more? Seventeen thousand five 
 hundred dollars going! "Five hundred dollars more," said 
 Smaly. At this point Malcolm A. Overley, with tears in his 
 eyes, supported by Old Abe, made a mute appeal to Big Joe 
 Wheatley and Jack Connors. Big Joe Wheatley, with his 
 clinched hand aloft, pushed himself through the crowd close 
 to the auctioneer, shouting: "May I forever be damned, if I 
 permit this place to get away from my old friend Overley. I 
 bid " 
 
 Before he could offer his bid, the stranger, who was beside 
 him, held his hand up to his gaze. In the palm was a card, 
 upon which was engraved in red the words, "Life Brother." 
 Big Joe Wheatley immediately withdrew, making his way to 
 Malcolm A. Overley, to whom he whispered: "He is one of 
 us; 'Life Brother ' is in his hand." 
 
 All eyes were now centered upon the stranger. What would 
 he do next? "I bid two thousand dollars more," he said. 
 What could he mean by such bidding ? Was he trying to put 
 somebody in a hole? How did he silence Big Joe Wheatley 
 so easily? "A trap," Si Weedels whispered to Casper 
 Lashum. 
 
 ' * I don 't give a d ! I wants thet place, and I 'se goiii ' ter 
 have hit. I bids five hundred dollars more," said Casper. 
 
 "Well, you will have to pay for it if you get it," said the 
 stranger. "You will give dollar for dollar. I bid five thou- 
 sand dollars more." 
 
 Casper Lashum again consulted with his friends. They 
 concluded that the stranger could not stand another raise of 
 one thousand dollars. So, with a great flourish, he bid one 
 thousand dollars more. The bid was scarcely made before the 
 stranger .cried : " I bid five thousand dollars more ! ' ' 
 
 Nick Lashum, Sr., and his friends, not being accustomed to 
 such, to them, reckless use of money, stood aghast, not knowing 
 what to do. Nick Lashum, Jr., explained to his father that 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 175 
 
 the last bid took the selling price up to thirty-one thousand 
 five hundred dollars, all the place was worth, and if the 
 stranger refused to bid again he (Nick) would have more than 
 twenty-five thousand dollars cash to raise over and above his 
 mortgage; that this stranger was setting a trap to break him. 
 But Nick, Sr., whose cupidity was now thoroughly aroused, 
 whispered to Casper to bid one thousand dollars more. 
 
 "Naw!" exclaimed Casper; "who the h 's goin' ter git 
 they money together? 'Bid one thousand dollars more, Cas- 
 per.' When my home's gone yo'll gin me one lek you did 
 them eighty acres. Yer put yer own head in the trap. Yer 
 is a nice ' ' 
 
 "Thirty-one thousand five hundred dollars! Going! 
 Going!" yelled the auctioneer, now thoroughly satisfied with 
 his prospective fee. "Going once! Mr. Zeph Smaly, do 
 you bid one thousand dollars more ? Mr. Casper Lashum, are 
 you done. Do I hear one hundred dollars more ? This prop- 
 erty is worth fifty thousand dollars, if it is worth one cent. 
 Going twice! Thirty-one thousand five hundred dollars! 
 Make it one thousand more, Mr. Wardeman? Will you let 
 this opportunity pass? Are you all done? Going! Going! 
 Gone ! This gentleman here gets the place for thirty-one thou- 
 sand five hundred dollars. The bargain of his life. Mr. " 
 
 "John K. Evers is my name," said the stranger. 
 
 "Mr. John K. Evers, the terms of this sale, of course, are 
 known to you. One thousand dollars at time of sale, balance 
 in thirty days." 
 
 * ' Yes, ' ' said Mr. Evers ; " I am prepared to comply with the 
 terms here and now." 
 
 " It is not necessary to go into details here in the road, sir, ' ' 
 said Nick Lashum, Jr. * ' We will drive to the bank, where we 
 can arrange all matters and where the papers are to be 
 found." 
 
 This was satisfactory to Mr. Evers, who made the deposit 
 and promised to come to the bank next day at 2 p. m. and make 
 
176 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 the final payment. He then drove to the Overley place. He 
 found Malcolm A. Overley seated on his veranda, surrounded 
 by his friends. As he drew near the group, they asked each 
 other who can he be. 
 
 "He is surely one of us," said Big Joe Wheatley. "He 
 gave the sign known only to the inner circle amongst us. But 
 we will see. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Evers advanced to Malcolm A. Overley and extended 
 hand, saying in a low voice, 'Life Brother/ with the accom- 
 panying grip. 
 
 "I am, indeed, more than glad to meet you, Mr. Evers," 
 said Malcolm A. Overley; "but you have put it out of my 
 power to ever gain possession of my home. Oh, my God! 
 Six generations of Overleys have lived on this place, and now 
 we must go!" 
 
 "Say not so, sir," said Mr. Evers; "I bid this place up to 
 show those ' crackers' that they may never expect to obtain 
 possession of any of our ancestral homes. I would have bid 
 indefinitely, as I have the means at my disposal. Now, you, 
 of course, understand that the amount over and above the 
 mortgage goes to you. I do not want your home ; nor do the 
 people whom I represent. This is December 10th. December 
 25th, Christmas day, the real owner will present himself and 
 settle matters with you. You will be satisfied. That is all 
 that I can say at present. I am very glad to have had the 
 honor of meeting these gentlemen, of whom I heard so much 
 before I came to your end of the State," added Mr. Evers, 
 when introduced to the gentlemen present. After a few more 
 unimportant remarks, he took his departure. A few days 
 later Mr. Evers sent a full statement to Mr. Donewell concern- 
 ing this transaction. 
 
 By way of explanation, it may be here mentioned that a) 1 
 the old aristocratic families in this State are oath-bound for 
 mutual protection, 'Life Brother ' being their password. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 ALCOLM left Abe at the station, and went directly 
 to Miss Mabel Donewell 's home, where he was very 
 warmly greeted. 
 
 "Malcolm, why did you not wire me that you were com- 
 ing ? ' ' asked Miss Donewell. ' ' I would have had some friends 
 here to welcome you. Where is your friend, Abe?" 
 
 "Why ask for Abe? Where am If Did I not hurry from 
 the station to find the girl whom I love? Where would you 
 be likely to find him ? And you have not even offered me your 
 hand ! I know Abe 's little girl has done better than that. ' ' 
 
 "Well, Mr. Overley, do you expect me to offer you my 
 hand?" 
 
 "I am going to take it, whether you offer it or not," 
 laughed Malcolm, as he attempted to seize her hands. 
 
 At this point Mrs. Donewell appeared at the door and 
 remarked: "Why, Mabel! What does this mean?" 
 
 "It means, mother, that Mr. Overley is trying to take my 
 hand. He finds fault with me for not offering it to him." 
 
 "Mrs. Donewell, I did think that, after several months' 
 absence, Miss Donewell would at least shake hands with me. 
 I was endeavoring to instruct her as to how she should con- 
 duct herself toward the best of friends," answered Malcolm. 
 
 ' 1 1 suppose, Mr. Overley, you mean to infer that her mother 
 has been derelict in that respect?" said Mrs. Donewell. 
 
 "Oh, no; by no means," answered Malcolm quickly. "I 
 would not presume for a moment to even insinuate that Miss 
 Mabel 's training has not been all that could be desired. I can 
 testify that with this single exception her conduct has always 
 been above criticism." 
 
 "You have been very observant, Mr. Overley," remarked 
 Miss Donewell ; ' ' one would conclude from your remarks that 
 
 177 
 
178 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 you are competent and willing to set up a standard of deport- 
 ment for the young ladies of your acquaintance. ' ' 
 
 "Mrs. Donewell, do you not think your daughter a little 
 severe in her comments ?" asked Malcolm. 
 
 Before Mrs. Donewell could answer Malcolm's query, Mr. 
 Donewell came into the room. 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I am very glad to see you; very glad that 
 you are back to finish your course. ' ' 
 
 "I am very glad to be back," answered Malcolm. "This 
 old College is very dear to me. We form ties at College that 
 should never be severed." 
 
 * ' Father, what is the matter ? ' ' asked Mrs. Donewell. ' ' You 
 look as solemn as a judge who is about to pronounce a death 
 sentence upon some person whom he does not believe guilty." 
 
 "Well, I feel just as you express it," said Mr. Donewell. 
 "I have just passed sentence upon a young man whom I 
 admire and respect. My heart tells me he is right in his 
 determination to take the law in his own hands. His is a 
 position calculated to try the strongest. I would " 
 
 "You have seen my friends, Abe, Mr. Donewell," inter- 
 rupted Malcolm. "What has he told you he means to do?" 
 
 ' ' He insists that his vow must be kept, ' ' said Mr. Donewell. 
 "His only concern is for two old men in Alabama who seem 
 to have made great sacrifices for him. His concern is that 
 they spend their last days quietly on the old plantation. What 
 can he mean by that remark? I tried to persuade him to 
 remain at the College with us this year, but he would not. 
 He has a mission to perform in the West, he says. I hope 
 something unforeseen will prevent the fulfillment of that 
 mission. ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Donewell, nothing but death will stop Abe," said 
 Malcolm. "I have not tried to dissuade him for the reason 
 that I know it would be useless. He will surely keep his vow. ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Overley, what vow has your friend Abe made?" 
 asked Miss Donewell. "Do you refer to his vow to avenge 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 179 
 
 his mother's death? I thought those men were arrested at 
 the time. Released! Do you mean to tell me that the men 
 who committed such a dastardly crime were released? Then, 
 I do not blame Abe. I would take the law in my own hands, 
 mother dear, were you to meet a like fate. How can such 
 crimes be overlooked under a civilized government ?" 
 
 "Miss Donewell, you do not understand the sentiment that 
 prevails in the land of my birth, ' ' answered Malcolm. ' ' That 
 sentiment does not pronounce it a punishable crime to kill 
 Negroes, either men, women or children. We do not believe 
 in that doctrine ; but it prevails, nevertheless. The unwritten 
 law is that no white man, no matter how low and depraved, 
 shall die or be deprived of his liberty for the mere killing or 
 maiming of a Negro man, woman or child. Abe knows this. 
 He acts accordingly. I do not blame him. He is doing no 
 different than other persons classed as good citizens have 
 done." 
 
 "Is it possible that men live and worship God who commit 
 such crimes and see no harm in them?" asked Mrs. Donewell. 
 
 "Mother, what Mr. Overley says is only too true," said Mr. 
 Donewell. "It is to be hoped that the influence of brotherly 
 love may change all this some day." 
 
 "Mr. Donewell, you do not understand the nature of this 
 'cracker' blood, if you think that anything short of an infu- 
 sion of new blood will change this sentiment. This blood 
 asserts itself, no matter where you find it in the United 
 States Senate, in the House of Representatives, in the Gov- 
 ernor's chair, in the pulpit, on the rostrum, on a Pullman 
 dining car anywhere this ' cracker ' blood predominates, there 
 you find a bloodthirsty sentiment toward the Negro. These 
 people have had access to the Bible and Biblical teachings for 
 centuries, but have they learned the Ten Commandments? 
 No, and they never will, not until God Almighty injects into 
 their veins a newer and purer blood a blood that will bring 
 about a complete change of natural instincts. We people of 
 
180 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 the South who believe that every man has a right to life, 
 liberty and happiness, have studied these people, and have 
 come to the conclusion that new blood injected into the 
 'cracker' is all that will save the Southland. These people 
 are non-progressive. They produce little and consume much. 
 The Negroes are outstripping them at every turn, and let me 
 say that herein lies the trouble. The 'cracker' will not do 
 himself, and resents with great fierceness the progress made by 
 his black neighbor. But where is this new blood to come 
 from? Some States have agents soliciting emigrants, con- 
 tracting for them abroad, in violation of the laws of the 
 United States. When they come here they look the 'cracker' 
 over, turn from him to the better class of Negroes, or leave 
 the country. They will have none of the ' cracker. ' And the 
 birth rate of the mulattoes goes on and on. Where will it 
 end? We have men in public life who have Negro blood in 
 their veins. These men are fiercest in their denunciation of 
 the Negro. In a few more generations, in some sections of the 
 South, the line will be obliterated, much as some of us may 
 deplore it." 
 
 "Mr. Overley, you draw a gloomy picture of the future of 
 the South," said Mr. Donewell. "Can you see no light of 
 hope, no gleam away in the far distant future, that would 
 indicate an awakening in this 'cracker' element?" 
 
 "No, I can see nothing in them," answered Malcolm; "they 
 are today where they have been for generations, with an 
 exception here and there. Where one has reached the United 
 States Senate, he stands even there for those things which have 
 disgraced the South. In the Governor's chair, some low-bred 
 'cracker' has brought disgrace upon the State. There is 
 nothing you can do with them. As a whole, they are intract- 
 able, unteachable and incapable of cultivation. They simply 
 multiply like the germs of a contagion, fighting ever at the 
 vitals of the body politic. But where has Abe gone, Mr. 
 Donewell?" 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 181 
 
 "Your friend has gone to say good-bye to Miss Watson," 
 answered Mr. Donewell, "after which he will see you, then 
 leave for the West." 
 
CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 BE, after leaving Mr. Donewell, went to Miss Watson's 
 home and took his final leave of the family, saying 
 that he would return the week before Christmas. He 
 then went to Malcolm's room to await his arrival. Malcolm 
 soon came into the room, fully persuaded to try to show Abe 
 the error of his way. He found Abe seated by the table, 
 gazing at a little homespun jacket which he held, as the great 
 teardrops fell like rain upon the garment. Malcolm stood for 
 amoment as one suddenly awakened from a dream. 
 
 "Abe, where did you get that little jumper?" he asked. 
 "Oh, Mammy Rinda made that for me years ago! Let me 
 see it. Yes, this is one of mine. Here is the family coat of 
 arms she sewed on the collar. Sh ! Poor old Mammy Rinda ! 
 How I would love to see you now! Abe, do you remem- 
 
 "Do I remember? My God! Malcolm, how can you 
 ask " 
 
 * ' Now, Abe, be reasonable, ' ' said Malcolm. ' ' I want to ask 
 you about the good things Mammy Rinda used to fix for us. 
 I remember her as the only woman who nursed me, who sang 
 me to sleep, to whom I told the story of my sufferings, and 
 who always comforted me and soothed my pains. Now she is 
 gone, and by the hands of murderers ! Curses on them ! Abe, 
 when do you start for the West? I will go with you. Those 
 hellhounds must surely die!" Malcolm forgot for a moment 
 the fine resolutions he had made to persuade Abe to stay at 
 school. He remembered nothing but that that old black 
 woman, the mother of his childhood, had been foully mur- 
 dered. The little garment took him back to the days and acts 
 of her kindness and love never to be forgotten. 
 
 Malcolm sat with his face in his hands for several moments. 
 
 182 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 183 
 
 He finally said: "Abe, I want to help you. God knows I do. 
 But in what way? How can I help you most? Poor old 
 Mammy Rinda! The only mother I ever knew!" 
 
 Malcolm arose and walked to Abe, placing his hand upon 
 his shoulder, saying: "Abe, you are my brother. The 
 brother of my childhood. Why did God Almighty make you 
 black and me white? Make us to love and revere the same 
 things? Alike in all respects but color? And this world 
 holds you responsible for your color! Abe," continued Mal- 
 colm, as they clasped hands, "what can I. do now to help 
 you?" 
 
 "Malcolm, you can best serve me by not becoming involved 
 in these crimes I am committing," answered Abe. "While 
 I appreciate your feelings in the matter, and believe you are 
 willing to avenge my mother, it is not right that you should 
 do so. You should not stain your hands with human blood. 
 You cannot justify yourself before man or God. This is my 
 affair and mine alone. I have come to say good-bye to you, 
 Malcolm. I am going to find Tim Wardeman. He shall not 
 escape me. But I feel that I am leaving my brother, if not in 
 blood, in unity of soul. Malcolm, brother, look after my old 
 father. See that he wants nothing. If I never return and he 
 should learn the truth, tell him what I have confessed to you 
 that I lied to him that he might not suffer the anguish the 
 knowledge of my errand would bring to him. If I ever 
 return, I pray God that it will not break his heart. Can there 
 be a God, Malcolm? Is there a God that directs and shapes 
 the courses and destinies of nations alike ? Why, my brother, 
 are we brothers, yet as far apart as the poles, north and south, 
 and held apart because I am black and you are white? 
 DeVaux and his friend, ready and willing with their money 
 and their blood to defend me, would not sleep under the same 
 roof that sheltered me, because they are white and I am black. 
 This must be the God that Rev. Dr. Snell down home preached 
 about. You have no conception, Malcolm you can have no 
 
184 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 conception of the terribly humiliating effect of this undefin- 
 able something that makes me an object of scorn, of derision, 
 something to be shunned, to be ever set apart from other men, 
 not because I am not decent, clean and orderly, but because 
 God made me black; a something that white men with the 
 Christian love for their fellow men in their hearts, and mil- 
 lions of money in their pockets, have not the moral courage to 
 stand up before the world and combat. Though the Sermon 
 on the Mount is against this unbrotherly feeling, they are 
 unwilling, though professed followers of Christ, to say, 'this 
 black man is my brother and has a man 's rights. ' They can- 
 not take a black man into their religious institutions, even 
 when he is weak and exhausted by the toils and disappoint- 
 ments and diseases of this world, and say, ' Rest here in peace, 
 brother; God will show you the way.' That Christian spirit 
 of brotherhood is reserved for all nations and races of the 
 earth save the American Negro. In all civilized communities 
 the Negro, even the American Negro, is welcome and wel- 
 comed, save in such communities as are protected by the Star 
 Spangled Banner, the emblem of the land of the free and the 
 home of the brave. I leave you now, Malcolm ; but I feel that 
 God has made some white men after His own image. I feel 
 that, should I never come back, my good name will not suffer 
 in your keeping. Good-bye, my brother!" 
 
 ' * Good-bye, old boy, ' ' said Malcolm, as their hands doubled 
 over each other and Abe was gone. 
 
 As Malcolm stood listening to Abe's receding footsteps he 
 suddenly remembered that Abe had no money. Taking all 
 he had (forty dollars), he wrapped it in his handkerchief, 
 well knowing that Abe would not accept it if given openly, 
 and called to Abe, saying that he wanted him to take this 
 handkerchief, as that was all he had to give him. Abe placed 
 the handkerchief in his inside pocket, remarking that he would 
 keep it always. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 185 
 
 After Abe's departure, Malcolm soliloquized: "Why was 
 Abe not made white the same as I am? Why should a man 
 of his fine intellect and sensibilities be placed in this world 
 where he is looked down upon even by the most ignorant of 
 white men? What, indeed, must be his feelings as he meets 
 that sentiment at every turn. But Tim Wardeman will surely 
 die. Abe will come back as he said he would and go South 
 with me and finish the rest. Poor old Mammy Rinda! My 
 old black mother ! I nursed at that breast, drew my life from 
 her care. Father has told me time and again that but for 
 Mammy Rinda 's care I would not have lived. Now she is 
 dead. Am I not a craven that I do not avenge her? Is she 
 not the only mother that I ever knew ? Beaten to death ! My 
 God ! And I have not struck a blow in her defense, nor have 
 I uttered one word in protest ! Shame ! Shame ! And I am 
 a white man ! I shall go back home, and when Abe returns he 
 will find nothing to be done. I shall finish where he left off. 
 I shall see Mabel and go tomorrow." 
 
 With this determination uppermost in his mind, Malcolm 
 sought the sleep which, try as he would, was denied him. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 BE, after leaving Malcolm, went direct to the station, 
 catching the Chicago express. While thinking over 
 the events of the day Malcolm's gift presented itself 
 to his mind. Upon examining the handkerchief he discovered 
 the money which Malcolm had concealed in it. His first 
 impulse was to return it to Malcolm when he arrived in 
 Chicago. He concluded, after much thought, however, that 
 to send the money back to Malcolm would be an offense which 
 would wound his feelings. He felt that Malcolm had made a 
 sacrifice for him which he should appreciate. His mind turned 
 to the working out of some plan by which he could accomplish 
 his mission without detection. Abe found that his money 
 amounted to sixty dollars, all told, and that he must find 
 employment to procure funds to pay his passage to St. Louis. 
 While searching about the docks for a job, he fell in with a 
 person who interested him a great deal. His new friend was 
 a young white man, apparently thirty years of age, well edu- 
 cated, but a slave to drink, who said his name was ' ' Draper. ' ' 
 He could not be induced to talk further about himself. He 
 appeared to * ' take ' ' to Abe at sight. * * Draper ' ' worked upon 
 the docks when he felt so disposed, seeming always to have a 
 job at his disposal. He procured a job for Abe. The second 
 day after they met, while waiting for a boat, Abe asked him 
 why he did not let liquor alone, get himself together and go 
 back to his home and friends. 
 
 "Draper, you are a bright man; you are College bred; you 
 come of good stock; you have.no excuse in the world for living 
 as you do. Now, I am not trying to lecture to you ; I simply 
 hate to see you in this condition. Come, old man, tell me why 
 you are throwing your life away?" 
 
 "Black" (this is the name he gave Abe when they first 
 
 186 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 187 
 
 met), "I do not acknowledge your right to ask me such 
 questions. But your motive is a good one, and I will tell you 
 what I have never told my own brother, the last of my blood 
 living. You say that I come from good stock; you are right. 
 I come from the best in the State of Louisiana. My brother 
 and myself are the only survivors, however. I came through 
 Oberlin College. My brother is there now and will finish this 
 school year, I think. I have a letter from him in which he 
 begs me to come to see him or let him know where he can see 
 me. Black, what would you do? Send for the kid or go 
 to him? Do you think I would look good at College in these 
 togs ? Well, I guess not. We have money between us, plenty 
 of it. What do I care?" 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Abe; "but Draper you have not told me 
 why you do not care. What makes you so reckless ? ' ' 
 
 "Black," he said; "I have been grossly deceived by a 
 woman. I loved her beyond all reason. She deceived me; 
 married another man, inferior to me in all respects, and " 
 
 "Say, Draper, does he keep sober?" laughingly inquired 
 Abe. 
 
 "Why do you laugh, Black?" asked Draper. 
 
 "I did not intend to offend you, but you assume that you 
 are superior to somebody," answered Abe. "Look at your- 
 self. May not this young lady have seen your weak point and 
 been afraid to trust her future in your hands ? Do you think 
 that being deceived by a woman is a sufficient excuse for your 
 doing those things which would break your mother's heart, 
 were she living? No, Draper, you are showing a weakness 
 that this young lady may have discovered, and you are simply 
 justifying her. Cut the booze out, old man. See your 
 brother. Go home and be a man. ' ' 
 
 "Black, you are certainly taking great liberty in telling 
 me what to do. I did not ask you for your advice, did I? 
 But, I'll think this thing over." 
 
188 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "Come on, Draper; there is our boat. We can get seven 
 hours off her; that will take us up to dark. Then we can go 
 to the Y. M. C. A." 
 
 "Y. M. C. A.?" asked Draper; "what put that into your 
 head? I have not been inside of one for two years. Then 
 they drove me out. But we will go." 
 
 That night Abe and his friend made their way to the 
 Y. M. C. A. building a large and commodious place, given 
 over to the reformation and upbuilding of the men along the 
 docks. The building was filled with all the conveniences need- 
 ful for such work. The dormitory was a model in itself. 
 After hearing a long and very instructive lecture by a local 
 preacher, without a charge, Abe and his friend betook them- 
 selves to the library. They had been seated but a short time 
 when a gong sounded and the inmates of the library arose and 
 began to file out of the room. Abe and his friend sat still. 
 Soon the Superintendent came to them, remarking that he 
 observed they were strangers. He also remarked that the 
 gong had sounded for bedtime. Turning to Draper, he asked : 
 "Do you expect to tarry with us tonight?" 
 
 "Yes, that is what we came for," answered Draper. 
 
 "Well, er you might but, er your friend he, er " 
 
 stammered the good man. 
 
 "He, er hell! What is the matter with my friend?" 
 asked Draper. 
 
 The chargeless minister, who had just been discoursing so 
 eloquently on the brotherhood of mankind, together with two 
 other persons who were evidently Christian workers, joined the 
 group. ' ' Well, er the fact of the matter is, our rules forbid 
 the sleeping of colored men here; we will do all else we can 
 for them, ' ' said the Superintendent. 
 
 * ' Oh, I see ! Dagoes, Sheenies any old nation is welcome 
 but the American Negro," said Draper. "Come, Black, let's 
 go back to Con McNulty's. We can get a room over his booze 
 joint, but you cannot get one in this Christian institution. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 189 
 
 Black, I promise you not to touch a drop tonight." Then 
 turning to the minister, he remarked: ''Doctor, how can you 
 reconcile the turning out into the streets of this man, at this 
 hour of night, with the doctrine you labored with so eloquently 
 for one and one-half hours this evening? The rules of your 
 Y. M. C. A. are paramount to the teachings of Christ, it 
 appears. ' ' 
 
 Before the man of God could answer Abe and Draper had 
 passed out into the street. 
 
 "Black, don't let a little thing like that worry you," said 
 Draper; "we are not far from a bed, and we have the price. 
 These Biblebacks are something awful; they don't have to 
 save the soul of an American-born Negro, but they will take 
 your money and go away off to Africa and hunt up some 
 heathen who does not understand their love for him nor their 
 talk nor their tracts. Here is Mac's place." 
 
 "Mac, we want two rooms." 
 
 "Sure! Dannie, me bye! Sixteen and seventeen. Show 
 the gintlemen up," said McNulty, without a moment's hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 Several weeks after the Y. M. C. A. episode, while on their 
 way to the docks, Abe suddenly asked Draper what his broth- 
 er's name was, saying that he had some friends at Oberlin 
 College. 
 
 "Black, you ask too many questions," said Draper; "but 
 I will tell you. That kid's name is Leon DeVaux. He is 
 the 
 
 "Why, Black, what is the matter?" 
 
 Abe had grasped Draper by the shoulder and stood looking 
 at him in a way that was puzzling to his new friend. 
 
 "Leon DeVaux! And what is your name?" asked Abe. 
 
 * ' My name ? What the h do you want to know that for ? 
 You are the most persistent black man I ever saw. Let go, 
 you are hurting me. Are you crazy?" said Draper, all in 
 one breath. "Well, I will tell you. My name is Napoleon 
 
190 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 DeVaux. I am the ninth DeVaux of that name. But why do 
 you ask?" 
 
 Abe was about to unburden himself, but wanted one more 
 proof that this friend was what he seemed to be. 
 
 "One more question," said Abe. "What nickname has 
 your brother?" 
 
 "We called him Onnie when he was a boy, and they called 
 me Nips. Now, are you satisfied?" asked Draper. 
 
 "Yes, my friend, perfectly. Tonight, after work, I will tell 
 you something that may interest you. I will say now, how- 
 ever, that I know your brother. And a man is he ! DeVaux, 
 I will never call you 'Draper' again. This is my last day on 
 the docks. I am going to leave the city tomorrow. I have 
 saved the amount of money that I needed, and more. I am 
 going to the far West." 
 
 ' ' Black, I am sorry to hear that. You have been an inspira- 
 tion to me. Your disinterested friendship has kept me sober 
 for three weeks. I have never before come in contact with 
 a black man like you. I feel like a new man. We need not 
 work today. Let us talk. I want to hear your story. " 
 
 "Well," said Abe, after some thought, "let us hire a boat 
 and go fishing. This is my last day with you, and we may as 
 well spend it in pleasure. I want to say something to you 
 which I hope you will appreciate." 
 
 Abe and his friend were soon out on the lake at the end 
 of a deserted pier. 
 
 "Black, tell me about my brother," said DeVaux. "I am 
 anxious to hear about him. I have not seen him for seven 
 years. He was a kid when I left home." 
 
 "He is no kid now. He has been very kind to me," an- 
 swered Abe. Abe then told DeVaux the part his brother 
 played in his troubles, of how his brother believed in him, 
 when he was accused of stealing Malcolm's pipe, of DeVaux 's 
 sending men down to Alabama to investigate the killing of 
 his mother and sister ; of the fact that he offered to go with 
 him to his home to avenge the killings ; of how his letter put 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 191 
 
 him on the track of Tim Wardeman, and ended by saying 
 that there was nothing in the world he would not do for him 
 and that he would never be able to return his kindness. 
 
 "Abe, you have paid him. You have saved his brother 
 from a drunkard's grave," said DeVaux. "When I first saw 
 you I knew that you were a different kind of black man from 
 any that I ever met. I liked you at sight. But when you 
 began to point out to me my worthless life, I began to sober 
 up. I felt the shame that only a Southern man of my blood 
 can feel when his shortcoming are pointed out to him by a 
 Negro. I felt at first that even this Negro feels himself 
 above me. I know you better now. You are a man, al- 
 though you are black. You are my friend. I am proud of 
 that fact. You have awakened the DeVaux blood in me. 
 You have done what the Y. M. C. A. failed with their rot and 
 tracts to do. I also shall leave tomorrow. I go to Oberlin 
 to see Onnie ; then I shall go home, a new man. Abe, listen ; 
 this is on the word of a DeVaux. If you ever need a friend, 
 if you need help on this errand of yours, whatever it may be, 
 if you need money, no matter what amount, I will come or 
 will send it. I care not to what part of the world I may 
 have to go or send. That stands until death. ' ' 
 
 "DeVaux, I appreciate your offer. But I cannot draw 
 any man into this affair of mine," said Abe. "You certainly 
 make me feel proud when you say I have persuaded you to 
 join your brother. Tell him that I shall always remember 
 him. Tell him when he is Governor of his State to deal 
 leniently with the misguided ones of my race who appeal to 
 him. We had better go ashore now; it is getting dark." 
 
 "Abe, we will have a farewell supper tonight; then we 
 part, maybe forever," said DeVaux. 
 
 These two men parted the next day, one bent upon begin- 
 ning life anew, with the world open to him, notwithstanding 
 his downfall ; the other to seek the men who had ruined his 
 life by murdering his mother. 
 
 They never met again. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 BE left Chicago, going direct to St. Louis ; he then 
 made his way, as a laborer, to Nevada, entering the 
 country in which he hoped to find Tim Wardeman. 
 After a short search he located his man in a small mining 
 camp where Wardeman was known by his loose habits and 
 hard preaching. His wife(?) was also known to all the 
 miners in that section. Abe set about to learn something of 
 Tim's habits, and found that Tim spent much time fishing. 
 Abe determined to surprise him while engaged in his pastime. 
 While loitering about Tim's cabin, Abe heard him call to his 
 "wife," saying: "Vinnie, I am goin' fishin'. I believe them 
 fish '11 bite better 'n they did yestiddy." 
 
 "Goin' fishin'," cried Vinnie, "yer is always goin' 
 fishin '. " I never hears you say yer is goin ' to chop wood ner 
 tote a pail er water. Yer better tak dis chile out in der sun, 
 ef yer don 't wat hit ter die. ' ' 
 
 1 1 1 got no time to nus yer kid, ' ' growled Tim. 
 
 "No, in course yer haint." snapped Vinnie, "but yer had 
 time to bring hit hyre. Yer ain't no man, yer know dat." 
 
 Tim shouldered his poles and walked away without further 
 comment. Soon he was seated on the edge of a mountain 
 pool, singing softly to himself : 
 
 "Camptown race track five miles long, 
 
 Du a du a do, 
 Camptown ladies sing this song, 
 
 Du a du a do, 
 Gwine to run all night, 
 Gwine to run all day, 
 I bet my money on the bobtail nag, 
 Some one take and bet on de bay." 
 
 Suddenly there was a movement behind him. Looking up 
 
 192 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 193 
 
 he found Abe Overley standing over him with a horse trace 
 in his hand. Tim collapsed, and would have fallen into the 
 water had not Abe caught him and pulled him away from the 
 bank. When he recovered, he looked at Abe with bulging 
 eyes, and fear and guilt were stamped on his every feature. 
 Their eyes met. Tim felt that his time had come. His craven 
 heart manifested itself. His one endeavor was to get away. 
 He bounded to his feet in a vain attempt to escape, but was 
 felled to the ground by a terrific blow on the top of the head 
 that rendered him unconscious. When he regained his 
 senses, he found himself stripped of clothing, bound to a 
 stump, and Abe standing over him with a horse trace ready 
 in his hand to administer the terrible blows that Tim felt 
 were sure to come. He began to plead. 
 
 "Mr. Abe, would yer?" 
 
 "Did you ever see this horse trace before?" asked Abe, 
 holding the trace before Tim's eyes. 
 
 "How kin I tell, I'se seed so many?" answered Tim. 
 
 "How many have you used on helpless old women?" de- 
 manded Abe. 
 
 "Deed, Mr. Abe, I never did sich a think in my whole 
 life," was Tim's answer. 
 
 "Liar!" hissed Abe, at the same time bringing the trace 
 down on Tim's shoulders with a force that split the skin. 
 "Take that, and that, maybe you can remember an old 
 woman whom you beat to death with this very trace. Curse 
 you, I am now going to treat you as you served her. I am 
 going to beat you to death." 
 
 "My God! Mr. Abe, spare me," he pleaded. "Think of 
 my wife and chile. They will suttenly starve without me to 
 find for them." 
 
 "Your wife and child? They will suffer! Did my poor 
 old mother suffer? Did my sister suffer when ypu brutes 
 were tearing her garments from her back?" thundered Abe. 
 
194 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ''Take that, you cursed brute, and that, and that. Yell, 
 you dog. Did my mother's cries stop you? Yell, curse you. 
 Your cries are what I have come to hear. Ha! ha! Yell! 
 Yell! Damn you, yell!" 
 
 Abe stood over Tim and belabored him with the trace, first 
 v;ith an even stroke that was cruel and diabolical in its 
 sameness of contact with Tim's body, each stroke cutting 
 deeper and deeper into the flesh. Abe's temper arose with 
 Tim's cries. He soon began to wield the trace with both 
 hands, regardless of where the blows fell, until he stopped 
 from exhaustion, dropping down beside his victim, who was 
 unconscious. 
 
 Abe waited for Tim to recover, thinking then to finish his 
 work. It was nightfall before Tim recovered, although Abe 
 had repeatedly deluged him with water. 
 
 Tim's first cry was, " Spare me, Mr. Abe! Spare me fer 
 my ole father ! ' ' 
 
 ''Spare you for your old father!" yelled Abe. Did you 
 spare my sister for her old father?" 
 
 "Mr. Abe, my po' ole mother, she " With a cry that 
 
 was beastly in its fierceness, Abe sprung upon Tim, dealing 
 him a shower of blows that soon rendered him lifeless. Tim, 
 as the life left his body, gave vent to one cry which was 
 heard by two miners who, together with Vinnie, were in 
 search of Tim. They immediately returned to their cabins, 
 the miners leaving Vinnie in great haste. 
 
 When Abe discovered that Tim was dead, he cut a piece of 
 the trace and hung it about his neck, after which he made his 
 way to the cabin where he found Vinnie cowering in great 
 fear, the cry which she heard having completely unnerved 
 her. When Abe strode into the room, she instinctively knew 
 what had happened, but when she saw the blood-stained 
 horse trace in Abe's hand her terror rendered her helpless. 
 Abe stood in the gloom of the poorly lighted room, gazing 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 195 
 
 intently at her. Vinnie was held transfixed by his gaze, 
 her eyes bulging, her tongue refusing to move. At last she 
 whispered in a voice, uncertain and weak, * ' Abe Overley ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes/' said Abe, "I have come to tell you not to move out 
 of this cabin, not to let any person in, nor to tell any person 
 on earth that you ever saw me in this country. If you do, 
 the voice that you heard on the hill an hour ago will call you 
 to that door. Do you understand? 
 
 "Yes, Abe, I does, an' will do jus' as yer says," was her 
 trembling reply. "But Abe, yer is goin' 'way. Don't leave 
 me here. We was chillen togedder, yer tooked me ter Sun- 
 day school many a time ; tek me back ter the ole place. Abe, 
 I '11 be yer wife. I swears ter yer, Abe, I never had a ' nigger ' 
 man in all my life. Ise always been a good woman. I " 
 
 "Been a good woman?" was Abe's contemptuous reply. 
 "What do you call that?" pointing to the child. "Be my 
 wife! Move out of this cabin before twelve o'clock tomor- 
 row night and you will join Tim Wardeman in hell." With 
 this remark, Abe left Vinnie, as he had a distance of ten 
 miles to walk to catch the Overland express to Utah City. 
 Abe reached that city in safety. He then went to San 
 Francisco, from which city he shipped on a coastwise 
 steamer plying between San Francisco and Vancouver. 
 From Vancouver Abe made his way to Windsor, Canada, 
 from which point he wrote Malcolm, asking whether it was 
 advisable for him to come to Oberlin. Malcolm wrote him 
 that he might come in perfect safety, and Abe left Windsor, 
 arriving in Oberlin ten days before Christmas. 
 
 When he left Vinnie, she sat for a long time trying to 
 think what was best to do. Suddenly she thought of a miner 
 by the name of Hutchins who had been very friendly to her 
 in Tim's absence. She arose and looked out of the door, 
 remarking that surely it was after twelve o 'clock. In reality 
 it, was little past sunrise. Vinnie determined, however, to 
 
196 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 make her way to Hutchins' cabin, the location of which she 
 knew very well. 
 
 "Hutch, I'se come ter ax yer what I am ter do. Tim ain't 
 come back, an' me an' Ben an' Jim Waters her'n sick a yell 
 when we was lookin' fer him thet we was feared to go any 
 furder." 
 
 "Well, Vinnie, I am sure I don't know," answered 
 Hutchins, ' ' where did this yell come from ? ' ' 
 
 "Over by the pool in Devil's Holler," said Vinnie. 
 
 "Vinnie, you stay here; I will take Jim and Ben and see if 
 I can find the parson. Was he drunk or sober when he left 
 home?" 
 
 "He was sober. He hain't been drunk now for mor'n a 
 week. Hutch, I'll stay right here 'till yer comes back and 
 longer, too, ef yer says so." 
 
 After several hours ' hunt, this trio of Tim 's members found 
 their parson bound to a stump, dead ; his body covered with 
 cuts and bruises and a small piece of horse trace on a 
 string tied about his neck. Hutchins hastened back to 
 Vinnie to break the sorrowful news, while Jim and Ben went 
 in search of a team to convey the body to the parsonage. 
 
 "Vinnie," said Hutchins as he entered the cabin in great 
 haste, "you are free. The parson is dead. We found his 
 body. Now, ah, what did you say when I left, about staying 
 here?" 
 
 "I said I would stay here if yer said so," answered Vinnie. 
 
 "Yes, but what are you going to do with that child? That 
 is the parson's child; I don't want it." 
 
 "No it ain't his'n, its your'n," answered Vinnie. 
 
 "Mine? No, it is not mine. You cannot put that on me," 
 said Hutchins. 
 
 "Well it's as much your'n as its his'n, yer knows thet, 
 don't yer?" 
 Hutchins agreed to take Vinnie to himself. Three years later 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 197 
 
 he struck a very rich vein of ore and left the mining camp, 
 taking his family of three children and his half-breed Indian 
 wife with him. It is not known whether Vinnie ever saw 
 her mother and brothers again. It is to be hoped that their 
 new life and new surroundings will be an inspiration to them. 
 Parson Tim was taken to the parsonage by his members and 
 prepared for burial. In the absence of either undertaker or 
 preacher, the preparation and burial were not of long dura- 
 tion. Tim died as he had lived a miserable wretch. 
 
U 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 'PON Abe's arrival in Oberlin he proceeded at once to 
 Miss Watson's home. After a short wait Miss 
 Watson came into the room, greeting him with a 
 smile, saying: 
 
 "So you have arrived? How long have you been in town? 
 I have been . ' ' 
 
 "I have been in town just thirteen minutes," said Abe, so 
 solemnly that Miss Watson gazed at him in wonderment. "I 
 came to you direct from the station. There is something I 
 want to say to you and then I shall leave Oberlin immedi- 
 ately without seeing another person. Nancy, I have 
 been thinking of your promise, that you would some day be 
 my wife. I have come to the conclusion that I should not 
 hold you to that promise, and that I should not expect you to 
 marry me after I have steeped my hands in human blood. 
 Nancy, I give I release I insist that you cast me off, for 
 your own good. You should not marry me, in simple justice 
 to yourself. You would always think of me as a murderer. 
 Our children would have a murderer for a father. As you 
 pressed your child to your breast you would be oppressed 
 with the feeling that its father is a murderer. I cannot bring 
 you to this. God alone knows where or how my life will end. 
 I therefore do not feel that I am showing my love for you by 
 dragging you into the mire with me. ' ' 
 
 "Abe, listen to me," said Miss Watson, earnestly. "I 
 understand and appreciate all that you have said. I thought 
 of those things before I gave you my promise. My father has 
 since spoken to be along the same lines, but I see no reason 
 why I should change toward you. I will keep my promise ! ' ' 
 
 "Nancy, your confidence in me gives me strength and I 
 
 198 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 199 
 
 love you more for it," said Abe, implanting a fervent kiss 
 upon her forehead. 
 
 "Abe, what do you propose to do now?" asked Miss 
 Watson. 
 
 ' * I am going home to settle accounts with Jack Smaly and 
 Buck Lashum, ' ' answered Abe. 
 
 "Abe, when all this is ended, what will you do the rest 
 of your life ? ' ' inquired Miss Watson. 
 
 "I do not know, Nancy. I shall do something that will 
 gain us a livelihood," was Abe's reply. 
 
 "When are you going home? When do you start?" was 
 Miss Watson's next query. 
 
 "I will leave here tomorrow at midnight. I want to join 
 Jack Smaly in his Christmas festivities." answered Abe. 
 "But before leaving I want to see Mr. Donewell. I will 
 leave you now. May I return later ?" 
 
 "I will inform you when you return whether or not you 
 may remain, ' ' laughed Miss Watson. 
 
 Abe went immediately to Malcom's room, where he found 
 the latter hard at work. 
 
 "Hello, Malcolm ! How are you? Are you still in the lead 
 in your classes? You look well. Hard study and good com- 
 pany seem to agree with you. Why, what is that you are 
 reading? For what are those clothes being aired? I never 
 saw those full dress clothes before. What's coming off? 
 Going to a ball? Don't let my coming stop you. I want to 
 see " 
 
 "Abe Overley!" interrupted Malcolm. "I have been 
 looking for you for several days. You are hurting my hand. 
 How can I answer all those questions? I am not going to 
 a ball. I am going to be married." 
 
 "Be what!" exclaimed Abe. "Be married? Will your 
 father be present? When will the event take place? To- 
 night! Want me to stand with you? Malcolm, are you 
 crazy? That would never do. Tell me about it." 
 
200 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 Malcolm told Abe that he and Miss Mabel Donewell were 
 to be quietly married that evening and were to start imme- 
 diately for Cleveland and New York, leaving New York in 
 time to reach home Christmas day. Abe was also informed 
 by Malcolm that he had not consulted his father, that the 
 whole thing was intended to surprise him. 
 
 "I have no doubt that it will surprise him," said Abe. 
 "You have my word for it that what he will say will also 
 surprise your bride." 
 
 "Be that as it may, I want you to stand with me, to give 
 me away, ' ' laughed Malcolm. 
 
 "I have no clothes," said Abe, "nor do I think it proper 
 for me to join the company in which I would find myself 
 should I accede to your request." 
 
 "I have had several full dress suits brought here for you 
 to select one from," said Malcolm. "It is out of the question 
 for you not to be present at my marriage. You are my only 
 friend at this College. Would you desert me at this time ? ' ' 
 
 "No, Malcolm, of course not. I will wear those clothes 
 and try to look happy for your sake," said Abe. "But, 
 Malcolm, this is very sudden, is it not ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes, it is sudden," answered Malcolm. 
 
 DeVaux soon came into the room in company with his 
 friend from Tennessee; they, together with Rattles and 
 Forbes, having promised to stand by Malcolm, and make all 
 the trouble possible for him. They had bribed the Negro 
 coachman to drive them out toward Lake Erie, to within a 
 short distance of a road house kept by Joe Hilton, where he 
 would be met by those young men, who would stop the 
 carriage, relieve them of their baggage and valuables, detach 
 the horses, and leave the bride and groom to find their way, 
 as best they could, to the road house. Abe learned of the 
 plot and determined to frustrate their plans. The driver was 
 again bribed, this time by Abe, to let him (Abe) drive in his 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 201 
 
 stead. After the ceremony and while the couple held an 
 impromptu reception, Abe slipped out of the house, donned 
 the driver's livery, and took his seat upon the box. DeVaux 
 came out and asked the driver if everything was all right, 
 Abe said: "Yes, sah," then added: "Boss, can't yo' gin de 
 ole man another ten; I'se lierble to git fired fo' dis." 
 
 "Here's the money, old man; now keep your head and 
 drive fast. ' ' 
 
 "I'll sho' drive fas', sah," said the driver, with a broad 
 grin. 
 
 DeVaux did not recognize Abe in the darkness. Soon 
 Malcolm and his bride came out followed by the throng of 
 mischief makers. They put the bridal couple in their car- 
 riage, remarking to the driver that he had just seven minutes 
 to catch the midnight express. 
 
 "I'll git thar, sah," said Abe. 
 
 DeVaux and his friends got into their carriage motioning 
 Abe to proceed, the whole party moving off at a terrific rate. 
 At the second corner Abe turned toward the station. The 
 occupants of the other carriages noticed this move. Then 
 began a race to the station that was fast and furious, but of 
 short duration. Abe dashed up to the platform just at the 
 express was pulling in. He jumped off the box and opened 
 tlje door, saying : 
 
 "Quick, Malcolm, run for the train." Noting Malcolm's 
 hesitation, for he did not recognize Abe in his livery, Abe 
 grasped him by the arm and pulled him out of the carriage. 
 
 ' ' Run for the train, I tell you ; they are coming. ' ' 
 
 Malcolm did not need a second warning, but hurried aboard. 
 Abe grasped the baggage and was soon on the train. They 
 were not seated, however, before Malcolm's friends were 
 also in the coach. They started for the supposed coachman, 
 but recognized Abe. The trick was apparent and the joke 
 was on them. Abe relieved himself of his livery, pass- 
 
202 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 ing it out to the Negro coachman, forgetting at the same 
 time that he had placed DeVaux ? s ten-dollar bill in the 
 pocket of the coat, where it was found by the Negro driver. 
 DeVaux extended his hand to Abe, saying: ''Abe, in con- 
 sideration of what you did for my brother in Chicago, I for- 
 give you this trick. ' ' 
 
 Abe laughingly replied that he appreciated his goodness 
 of heart and as an evidence of that good will DeVaux might 
 call on Miss Watson and explain Abe's sudden departure. 
 Soon the train was on its way to Cleveland. 
 
 "Abe, tell me about this escapade. What had those fel- 
 lows planned to do?" asked Malcolm. 
 
 "Mr. Overley, do tell us. From their disappointed looks 
 I know they had planned something that would have an- 
 noyed us very much," said Mrs. Overley. 
 
 "Yes," said Abe, they had planned to delay your depart- 
 ure. You were to be driven out on the road toward Lake 
 Erie, held up by highwaymen, robbed of bag and baggage, 
 the horses detached from your carriage, and you were to be 
 left to the tender mercies of the storm. ' ' 
 
 "I would not have cared, would you, Malcolm?" asked 
 Mrs. Overley, as she nestled close to him. 
 
 "Cared! Of course I would. Suppose you had become 
 chilled and caught cold? I would never have forgiven those 
 fellows," said Malcolm. "Abe, how did you manage to frus- 
 trate them?" 
 
 Abe then related his connection with the affair, also stat- 
 ing that DeVaux had given him a ten-dollar bill which he 
 put in the pocket of the coachman's coat and forgot it when 
 the coat was returned. 
 
 "Abe, where are you going now?" suddenly asked 
 Malcolm. 
 
 "Why, Malcolm, do you think you can get along without 
 my care?" laughed Abe. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 203 
 
 ' 'I will be glad if you will stay with us," said Malcolm, 
 "but as you have said nothing of your intentions, I, of 
 course, do not know what to expect. " 
 
 "Malcolm, I am going home. I want to arrive at night. I 
 will have ten miles to walk across the country. My plans 
 must all be arranged before Christmas day. I will have but 
 two days in which to perfect them. So you may expect me 
 to leave you in Cleveland, ' ' said Abe. 
 
 When the train bearing Mr. and Mrs. Malcolm A. Overley, 
 Jr., reached Cleveland, Abe took his leave of them and they 
 betook themselves to a hotel. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 ALCOLM made known to Mr. Donewell his love for 
 the latter 's daughter, Mabel; his desire to marry 
 her and take her to his home to spend the Christmas 
 holidays with his father. Mr. Donewell gave his consent, 
 seeing therein an opportunity to release the Overley estate 
 without seeming to be doing an act of charity. When it 
 became known at the College that Malcolm and Miss Mabel 
 were to be married the presents and congratulations were 
 numerous. Mr. Donewell concluded to make up a large 
 party and visit the bride and groom on the Overley planta- 
 tion. Dean Stearnly, Professors Smirchum and Narrows, 
 together with several others agreed to join the party. It 
 was not convenient for Dr. Finley to leave the College at 
 this time. 
 
 Dean Stearnly was a native-born Southern man, with all 
 the peculiarities of the upper-class Southern people; open, 
 honest, frank, having a thorough knowledge of Southern 
 conditions, gleaned by personal observations and early en- 
 vironment. Professors Smirchum and Narrows had made a 
 study of Southern life from books, newspapers and magazine 
 articles. The primary object of this trip was to study condi- 
 tions in the South. Mr. Donewell's party proceeded to 
 Mobile, Alabama, direct, where it was arranged they would 
 be joined by Malcolm and his bride. 
 
 The arrival of such a distinguished party of Northern vis- 
 itors created quite a little excitement among the hospitable 
 Southerners, and they vied with each other in showing cour- 
 tesies to Mr. Donew^ell's party. Mr. Donewell himself had 
 traveled extensively throughout the South, and his large 
 business interests made him well known to many of Mobile 's 
 leading citizens and merchants. The second night of their 
 
 204 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 205 
 
 stay in Mobile was enlivened by a banquet given in their 
 honor, at which Southern wit and impulsiveness were pitted 
 against Northern brains and caution. 
 
 Among the Southerners was a former United States 
 Senator who was "disingenuous" enough to assume that 
 he, too, like other United States Senators, could annex the 
 public domain to his private belongings while bellowing 
 "wolf!" on the floor of the United States Senate. This dis- 
 tinguished Senator's doctrine as to the ultimate results of 
 the education of the American Negro is sound, for he pre- 
 dicts what will surely happen as a result of the education 
 of the Negro his ascendency over the "cracker." 
 
 In this assemblage was a Governor, of questionable lineage, 
 who was notorious as the apostle of the doctrine of arson for 
 Negro schools, colleges and churches, and no State appro- 
 priation for Negro education. The good people of his State, 
 however, appear later to have swept him and his doctrine 
 into oblivion. We also find around the banquet table South- 
 ern men of wealth, culture and influence, whose ideas are 
 always sound on the policies of State and Government. The 
 speeches that brought out the sentiments of the banqueters 
 were made by Dean Stearnly, who made the final speech, 
 Professors Smirchum and Narrows, the former Senator and 
 the Governor just mentioned. John K. Evers presided as 
 toastmaster. 
 
 In response to the toast, "Education in the South," the 
 former Senator said, as he slowly arose to his feet : 
 
 "Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen: I guess you all know 
 who I am, and knowing me, you know my sentiments on this 
 troublesome question. We need education in our Southland ; 
 I mean education in its broad sense, and I mean education 
 for the white man. Gentlemen, you cannot discuss this 
 question and leave the 'nigger' out." This last remark was 
 brought forth by murmurs of disapproval when the drift of 
 
206 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 the Senator's talk was noted. "Up in my State there is an 
 agitation now on foot for compulsory education. They don't 
 seem to understand what that means. It means that 'nig- 
 gers' must be educated, the same as white men. It means 
 that in a few more years 'niggers' will be able to qualify to 
 vote the same as white men. Do you want that?" Cries of 
 "Yes," and cries of "No, "were heard from different parts 
 of the hall. It could not be determined which sentiment 
 prevailed. There were enough cries of "Yes," however, to 
 encourage those who believe that the Southland has reached 
 its awakening day. The Senator resumed, saying : " I know 
 that education increases intelligence, increases the usefulness 
 and value of the citizen. I ." 
 
 "Then why not educate these 'niggers?' " asked a voice 
 to the Senator's left. 
 
 "Because education makes them too 'damn smart.' Have 
 you ever come in contact with an educated 'nigger?' " the 
 Senator asked. 
 
 "Yes, hundreds of them. Does not education make him 
 a better citizen?" 
 
 "Can a 'nigger' be a good citizen, when he is out of his 
 sphere?" was the Senator's reply. "I know the 'nigger's' 
 place, and it is not in the schools, nor is it at the polls, where 
 he is dictating to white men. His business is to do the white 
 man's bidding. This is a white man's country. I tell you 
 if you persist in this fool idea of educating those 'niggers,' 
 in one more generation they will have their feet on our 
 necks ; they will rule us instead of our ruling them. I " 
 
 "Why, Senator, can these ignorant Negroes overcome your 
 race in one generation? Are your people at a standstill? 
 Are you retrograding?" asked a Northern man. 
 
 "Overcome! Standstill! Retrograding! Hell, no! My 
 people are the finest in the world. Before they will be over- 
 come they will shoot every damn 'nigger' off the face of the 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 207 
 
 earth. Standstill! Retrograde! White men cannot retro- 
 grade. We are burdened with this 'nigger' load. If there 
 were no 'niggers' in ." 
 
 "Yes, but that does not answer my question," persisted 
 the Northerner. "How, under a compulsory education law, 
 can one part of a community outstrip another, all things 
 being equal? If your people are superior to these people, 
 and I assume that they are, wherein lies the danger? Would 
 not their education be a positive benefit? Would ." 
 
 "You are entering into a discussion of a matter that 
 Northern men cannot understand; only Southern men are 
 capable of understanding this question, of explaining it in 
 its proper lurht,'" was the Senator's peevish reply. 
 
 "Yes, I suppose so," was the snappish rejoinder. Cries of 
 "order" eame from all parts of the hall. 
 
 "Mr. Toastmaster," continued the Senator, "I have been 
 interrupted. I had not contemplated a discussion of this 
 'nigger' question. In conclusion, let me say, and to this I 
 stick, that the only possible way for us to maintain our suprem- 
 acy is not to educate these 'niggers.' By their education 
 we are only hastening the day of conflict between the races." 
 
 When the Senator resumed his seat he seemed a bit sur- 
 prised that his sentiments fell flat upon all his hearers, save 
 the Governor. 
 
 Professor Smirchum responded to the toast : ' ' The College 
 as it Shapes the Destinies of Nations." The Professor en- 
 larged on the beauties of College life. The ties of friendship 
 that are formed at Colleges and never severed. The many 
 great men that have gone forth from them who have made 
 the world better by their teachings. That the College is 
 the great beacon light which attracts all men. That the 
 great God of the Universe had put it into the hearts of men 
 of means to endow Colleges in large sums of money that 
 their usefulness to all mankind might be perpetuated. 
 
208 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 "But," added the Professor, "there is one element of our 
 society, the Negro, which is not contemplated in the organi- 
 zation of our Colleges, who has become so persistent that we 
 cannot keep him out, and who is creating no end of troublo. 
 We should keep the Negro out of our Colleges." 
 
 "Why?" came the question in a chorus of voices. 
 
 "Well, because we should," answered the Professor. 
 
 "An excellent reason," laughed a questioner. 
 
 "Have you ever taught a Negro?' asked the Professor. 
 
 ' ' Oh, yes ; I have been teaching them all my life, ' ' was the 
 response. "I played with them when a child. I have eaten, 
 drank, slept, and shared my roof with these people, as all 
 Southern men of the old families have, and will do again. 
 But, Professor, I am interested in your remarks. The great 
 God of the Universe is the head of all Northern Colleges, is 
 he not?" 
 
 "I do not care to enter into a discussion of that question 
 with the gentleman. Suffice it to say, this Negro element is 
 causing a great deal of trouble in our Colleges." The Pro- 
 fessor seated himself, not wholly satisfied that his tirade had 
 struck a popular chord. 
 
 In response to the toast: "The State" the Governor gave 
 his experience as Governor. He spoke of the great trials and 
 burdens that a governor has to bear, how perplexing it is, 
 at times, to determine what course to pursue. He thanked 
 God, however, that he always knew what course to take 
 when it came to 'niggers/ 
 
 "I cut off our money that was appropriated for 'nigger' 
 normal schools. I would rather see this money burned than 
 be used for such a purpose," shouted the Governor, making 
 this last statement in a loud voice as the climax to his speech. 
 As he took his seat he wondered what had come over these 
 Southern people that such sentiments failed to arouse them. 
 The Governor failed to see, as some of his Southern brethren 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 209 
 
 for years had failed to see, that the world is moving forward 
 and not backward, and that even the South must move on or 
 stand a desert country in a land of plenty. 
 
 Professor Narrows was called upon to respond to the 
 toast, "The Ladies," though none were present. He did 
 justice to his subject, not once referring to Negroes. It 
 would have been very bad form, indeed, to have referred to 
 a Negro while speaking to the toast, "The Ladies/' 
 
 The Professor seemed to be aware of this rule of Southern 
 etiquette. 
 
 When Dean Sternly arose to respond to the toast, "Man- 
 kind," there was a momentary silence, a stillness that was 
 broken only by a greeting of hand-clapping which was 
 accorded no other speaker of the evening. His eyes sought 
 those of the former Senator. The difference betwen these 
 men was very marked. The former Senator was of the 
 mushroom variety. His family had never been heard of 
 beyond the limits of his native county, until his advent into 
 politics. His general air, his table manners, his deportment, 
 did not bespeak the cultured gentleman. His whole appear- 
 ance gave unmistakable evidence that he was born of no 
 gentlewoman, but was undeniably a scion of that "cracker" 
 element that a turn of the wheel of fortune had suddenly 
 tossed into prominence. 
 
 "Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen," said Dean Sternly, 
 "I did not expect to be called upon to discuss the Negro, 
 when I accepted your invitation to respond to the toast 
 'Mankind.' But it appears to me, from the remarks of the 
 gentlemen who have preceded me, that they consider him, at 
 least, a part of mankind. That, to me, is very encouraging. 
 
 "It may be proper at this point to state that I am a native 
 of this State, of this county, of this city. My ancestors were 
 among the first settlers here, when Alabama was a trackless 
 forest, inhabited only by the aborigines and wild animals. 
 
210 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 My ancestral home across the river can still be seen from the 
 windows in this hall. There, ten generations of Stearnlys 
 have lived and contributed in no small degree to the 
 property, the strength, the intelligence of our dear old State. 
 I make mention of these facts that you may all know not 
 only that my training was received here, my sympathies are 
 here, but that this Negro question is nothing new to me. I 
 have known the Negro all my life. I have lived with him on 
 those dear old hills across the river, and I have loved him for 
 his simple faith, his unquestioning devotion, his unselfish 
 service to me and mine. 
 
 "Mr. Toastmaster and Gentlemen, I am going to say some 
 plain, unvarnished things to you. Let me say, first of all, 
 that I am thoroughly aware of the fact that it is not popular 
 in this section of the country to tell men of their faults, 
 particularly when those faults have relation to their treat- 
 ment of the Negro. The world would be better off, mankind 
 would suffer less from chicanery and deceit, there would be 
 less heartache, if we would frankly tell our brothers, in love 
 and not in anger, of their faults. I feel perfectly justified 
 tonight because of my ancestry and my relations in talking 
 frankly upon this Negro question, which has been so unfairly 
 and so unjustly handled here tonight. 
 
 "When he states that it is better to keep white children in 
 ignorance and not force them by legislative enactment to 
 attend school, for fear that the same law will force Negro 
 children to attend school, the Senator lays down a most re- 
 markable doctrine. It is preposterous that the relative 
 education of the Negroes and the whites will result in the 
 domination of the whites by the blacks. For us to believe 
 that the shotgun and the torch are the necessary sequels of 
 a compulsory education law is to admit that the Negro is the 
 superior race, and ours the inferior one, and that we fear the 
 loss by force of the position we now hold by fraud. It is nc 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 211 
 
 compliment to the intelligence and standing of the gentle- 
 men who are present tonight for such sentiments as we have 
 heard here to be heralded to the whole country as the opinion 
 of the sober-minded and better- thinking whites of the South 
 I do not subscribe to such sentiments and wish most emphatic- 
 ally to be put on record as expressing my disapproval of 
 them. Such ideas are in contravention of the spirit of the 
 Constitution of the United States, which every good citizen 
 is pledged to uphold and support. They are opposed to the 
 doctrines of Christianity, which teaches the Fatherhood of 
 God and the Brotherhood of Man. They violate the spirit 
 of our American civilization, which declares for equal rights 
 for all and special privileges for none. 
 
 "If we are not patriotic enough to uphold our Constitu- 
 tion; or, if we do not accept the Christian doctrine of 
 Brotherhood; or, if we do not believe in the theory of equal 
 rights, as business men we ought to seek the Negro's eleva- 
 tion politically, socially, and economically ; because the more 
 we elevate him and increase his earning power, his saving 
 power, and his intelligent appreciation of his relation to his 
 community, the more valuable he is to us. He becomes a 
 land owner and must need money which he will invest in our 
 stocks and deposit in our banks. As he earns more he 
 spends more. Intelligence and education increase his needs 
 and wants, which we alone can supply. It is worse than sui- 
 cidal for us to restrain and restrict the development of such 
 an element in our community. 
 
 ''The rural Negroes in this county earn on the average 
 eight dollars per month. Nearly every dollar of it 
 comes back to us through our stores and business people. 
 Suppose in some way we could increase their earning power 
 to twenty, thirty, or fifty dollars per month ; their additional 
 earnings would still come to us. If you had a piece of poor 
 land, would you keep it poor? Would you use every effort 
 
212 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 to prevent the improvement of the land or would you fertil- 
 ize and cultivate it so as to increase its productive power? 
 Of course you would improve it. Why not pursue the same 
 course toward the Negro. If schools improve the earning 
 power and civic value of the whites, they will do the same 
 for the Negro. If kindness and brotherly love and opportu- 
 nity make the white man a better citizen, they will make the 
 black man more useful and more valuable. Whenever a 
 citizen is made better the community is made richer. It 
 would seem therefore that this attitude of repression and 
 proscription toward the Negro is not only un-American, un- 
 Christian, and unjust, but it is positively impairing the very 
 communities we are pretending to serve. 
 
 "Again, it is impossible to practice such injustices upon 
 our weaker brother without directly injuring and preventing 
 the right development of our own moral natures. To culti- 
 vate unreasoning prejudice, to concoct schemes which are 
 aimed at the peace, happiness or welfare of another is to set 
 in motion influences that sap out the sweetness and beauty 
 of our souls. This sort of an attitude embitters our own 
 lives, handicaps our children, spoils our women, degrades 
 our homes and undermines our civilization. I cannot under- 
 stand and have never understood why we commit ourselves 
 to this unwise and un- Christian policy. 
 
 "For myself, there is no right or privilege which I enjoy 
 or which I seek for my family that I am not willing to accord 
 to the humblest Negro in the land, and I believe that it is in 
 this spirit that the proper solution of this vexed question 
 must come. 
 
 ' * We must realize and accept the fact that we cannot keep 
 among us and treat as aliens a race of people who are wor- 
 shiping the same God, reading the same Bible, attending 
 the same school system, serving under the same flag, forming 
 a part of the same civilization. We must accept them as a 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 213 
 
 part of our homogeneous population and treat all alike, or 
 we must get rid of them entirely. Since the latter is impos- 
 sible, the former is clearly our duty. 
 
 "Let me urge you to educate the Negro to see political 
 issues as you do; to treat him politically as you do other 
 races of mankind that have come among you. 
 
 "Your legislature has just enacted a State- wide prohi- 
 bition law. In Mobile it is enforced strictly against the 
 Negro. The Negro dens and saloons have been closed up and 
 it is well-nigh impossible for Negroes to obtain intoxicating 
 liquors, a thing for which the better class of Negroes are 
 truly thankful, while the low and vicious whites have free ac- 
 cess to it. Your prohibition law, so far as it is enforced, is 
 similar to your educational qualifications as to the franchise. 
 You place before these people an incentive, an obstacle to 
 overcome, which you do not place before the ignorant of your 
 own race. Illiteracy among the poor whites is not decreasing 
 as rapidly as it is among the Negroes. The poor whites have 
 practically the same percentage of illiteracy now as they 
 had fifty years ago. You say to the Negro, educate your 
 children. You leave the ignorant white man to flounder on 
 and on, upon the theory that because he is a white man, that 
 will suffice. It does seem to me that the folly of such a policy 
 should be apparent to all men. 
 
 "Gentlemen, do you know what these Negroes are doing? 
 Do you know that they control just a few thousand less 
 than five hundred million dollars worth of farm property in 
 this country ? Do you know that they own and operate farms 
 valued at six millions of dollars more than the total of all 
 capital invested in manufactories in the twelve Southern 
 States in eighteen sixty? This farm land that they own and 
 operate if put acre to acre would make a strip of land five 
 miles wide that would reach from New York City to San 
 Francisco. If by nineteen forty, as predicted by the United 
 
214 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 States Census Bureau, the illiteracy of the Negro disap- 
 pears and the ratio of their increasing wealth continues, 
 what will you do? You will have forced him to qualify for 
 the ballot, both educationally and financially, and by this 
 course will have made a man of him, as it were, at the same 
 time leaving the poor white where he has been for genera- 
 tions. You have kept the Negroes out of your lives, polit- 
 ically. You have not taught him to believe in your political 
 creed; but you have taught him that your creed means dis- 
 franchisement and oppression for him and his children. You 
 will have educated him up to the white man's standard and 
 that standard set by yourselves. He will be an American 
 citizen, thanks to your foresight. What will you do with 
 him? 
 
 "Gentlemen, there is but one way to solve this question. 
 That is, to prove the superiority of your race. Treat these 
 people, as you do all other peoples who come among you; 
 educate them up to your way of thinking ; make your inter- 
 ests their interests. Bind them to you by kindness and 
 consideration and make them feel that their interests lie 
 with the men who are native to the soil. I beg that you 
 gentlemen will bear with me for confining myself wholly 
 to the Negro question; but it seems that this is the all- 
 absorbing topic in most Southern gatherings of the day, and 
 unless we take a more rational view of it we will lay the 
 foundation of trouble for the generations to come." 
 
 When Dean Stearnley had finished a silence filled the hall. 
 Many gentlemen left their seats to congratulate him. This 
 line of argument, so different from that usually advanced by 
 Southern men, caused considerable adverse comment from 
 those who hoped to profit, politically, by keeping up a strife 
 between the races ; but it was plain that with a majority of 
 those present Dean Stearnley had advanced a line of thought 
 that struck responsive chords in their hearts. They were, 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 215 
 
 many of them, tired of the everlasting flaunting of the Negro 
 bugaboo for political purposes and were sincerely desirous 
 of devoting their time and their talents to the best interests 
 of the South ; and they welcomed this new doctrine as sane 
 and safe. 
 
 The Senator and his followers who had profited by preach- 
 ing "nigger," "nigger," all the time, did not dare assail 
 Dean Stearnley's arguments, which were so plainly true and 
 unanswerable, but waited until they were among the class 
 of whites who are always ready and willing to listen to this 
 senseless babble. 
 
 After spending some time in after dinner conversation, 
 Dean Stearnley's party, which now included Malcolm and his 
 bride, left the hall and resumed their journey to the Overley 
 plantation, in A County. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 HEN Abe left Malcolm and his bride he proceeded 
 
 at once to the County of C , nine miles below 
 
 the Overley plantation. He arrived near mid- 
 night, walking across the county to Cleo's cabin, where he 
 rested during the day, while gathering the news of the 
 neighborhood. Abe learned that Buck Lashum could be seen 
 any fine morning in a glass inclosure, which his father had 
 built on his front porch. His chair is rolled into this retreat 
 where he is left for hours at a time. 
 
 Abe concluded to visit him in this place. When he saw 
 Buck in his helpless condition, noticed his look of recogni- 
 tion, and that, although he could neither move nor speak, 
 his face bore a look of terror, he concluded to leave him as he 
 was, feeling that his punishment would be greater if left in 
 that condition. Abe succeeded in regaining the Overley 
 plantation without having been seen. Early Christmas 
 morning, Abe, mounted on Ben, the Overley horse mentioned 
 in a previous chapter, was riding through the back woods, 
 when suddenly he came upon a horseman, who, upon seeing 
 him, wheeled his horse and fled into the woods. Abe recog- 
 nized Jack Smaly in the fleeing horseman. 
 
 "Go, Ben! Go!" cried Abe. The old racer seemed to 
 understand that he was to make the effort of his life. Away 
 he dashed along the cow path over which Jack was racing. 
 Abe noticed that Jack was well mounted. His horse seemed 
 scarcely to touch the earth, so quick was she in her move- 
 ments. 
 
 ' * Ben, go ! Are you going to fail me now ? On ! On ! I 
 tell you ! " Abe had his horse trace buckled about his waist ; 
 he raised it above his head to deal old Ben a blow, but 
 lowered his hand, muttering: "No, this is not for you. 
 
 216 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 217 
 
 Never will I disgrace you, old horse, by a blow with this 
 blood-stained lash. This is for murderers." 
 
 The old horse, now thoroughly aroused, increased his pace, 
 rapidly closing in on Jack, who seemed to know that he was 
 being overhauled. A few more bounds brought them to a 
 clearing, across which their course led. Jack turned in his 
 saddle, with a pistol in his right hand, which he leveled and 
 fired at Abe twice in rapid succession. Abe swung his horse 
 to Jack's left, making it impossible for him to turn far 
 enough in his saddle to get his range without unseating 
 himself. Jack's movements were fatal to him, as they caused 
 his horse to slacken her pace. At the same time his shots 
 went wide of their mark. As old Ben came along side of 
 Jack's horse, Abe dealt Smaly a blow upon the head which 
 knocked him to the ground. Jack fell upon his head, the 
 force of the fall breaking his neck. 
 
 Abe dismounted and hastened to his victim, thinking to 
 lash him as he had his brother ; but he found Jack dead, and 
 concluded to leave him where he had fallen knowing that 
 his friends would soon find him. Abe then went to his 
 father's cabin, where he found the old man at breakfast, 
 which had been prepared by one of Cleo's girls. After 
 greeting his father, Abe greeted the girl just as if he had not 
 seen her before. He remained until, by the confusion at the 
 big house, he knew Malcolm and his bride and friends had 
 arrived. Abe found them as Malcolm was introducing Mrs. 
 Overley to his father. 
 
 "What is that you say, boy?" exclaimed the father. 
 
 "Your wife? Who the ? What the ? How in the 
 
 ? You have disobeyed me, Sir. Abe, tell me what my 
 Abe has done. Got married? Didn't he tell me that? Not 
 one word, sir. You have disobeyed me. Abe," he cried, 
 addressing Old Abe, "I have asked that boy of yours to tell 
 me what my Abe has done. He does not obey me. Those 
 
218 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 devils still hang together and defy me. That boy has been 
 married." 
 
 Old Abe seemed to take in the whole situation at a glance. 
 He went to Mrs. Overley, looking at her long and searchingly, 
 then said: "Yo'll suttenly be welcome on dis heah place. 
 Dem is Miss Miranda's eyes. Mr. Overley, Miss Miranda 
 sent dat chile heah to look arter yo' in yo' ole days." 
 
 There was a long silence, during which the old man looked 
 first at Malcolm, then at the bride, and then at the assembled 
 friends. Finally he extended a hand to Mabel, drawing her 
 close to him, and as he did so he implanted a kiss upon her 
 forehead. A great tear stole down his cheek, his lips 
 trembled, he whispered in a voice scarcely audible, "Kinda," 
 the name by which he always addressed Malcolm's mother. 
 This act, simple and courteous in itself, revealed the true 
 heart of this Southern gentleman. 
 
 Old Abe in a voice rich and melodious, one of those voices 
 around which sweet memories of plantation life still cling, 
 broke forth in the good old hymn : 
 
 "Blest be the tie that binds 
 Our hearts in sacred love ; 
 The fellowship of kindred minds 
 Is like to that above." 
 
 Old Abe's happy selection inspired the most cordial feel- 
 ings among all the company. 
 
 Mr. John K. Evers, who had joined the party in Mobile, 
 said to Malcolm A. Overley, Sr. : 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I wish to call your attention to the fact 
 that it is now 12 o'clock, noon, December 25." 
 
 He then produced the title deeds to the Overley estate which 
 he had purchased at the auction. Mr. Evers delivered the 
 deeds to Mr. Overley, who saw, as he hastily read them, that 
 he still held title to his family estates. When the old man 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 219 
 
 fully realized that the burden of his mortgage was lifted 
 from him he staggered to a chair, where he remained several 
 moments in deep thought. Finally he said: 
 
 "To whom am I indebted for this? Gentlemen, something 
 has been done in this matter that I cannot accept. Somebody 
 has paid by debts without my consent. Mr. Evers, I ask 
 for a full explanation of this matter. ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Donewell here may be able to enlighten you," said 
 Mr. Evers. 
 
 ' ' This is Mr. Donewell, the father of your daughter-in-law, 
 Mr. ." 
 
 "Why, Malcolm, you have not introduced your friends to 
 me. Why ." 
 
 "Dad, if you will only give me a chance I will be glad to 
 do so," laughed Malcolm. Then followed a general intro- 
 duction. After which Mr. Overley again asked the question 
 as to how the mortgage on his place had been paid. Addres- 
 sing himself to Mr. Donewell, he said: "I have been told, 
 sir, that you can explain this matter. Who did this, and 
 why was it done?" 
 
 "Mr. Overley, you are giving this affair too much consid- 
 eration. I straightened the thing out. I felt that I had as 
 much right to provide for my daughter as you had to provide 
 for your son," laughed Mr. Donewell. "We concluded to 
 keep this place in your family, provided we are permitted to 
 live upon it at times. ' ' 
 
 "At times!" cried the old man. "If you are willing to 
 take that disobedient boy of mine in exchange for this 
 sweet girl, I am willing. I am glad enough to be rid of him. 
 
 He has caused me no end of worry. But . Come here, 
 
 boy, ' ' addressing Malcolm. Malcolm A. Overley, Sr., placed 
 his hands upon the head of the young couple remarking, "I 
 give you both a father's blessing." 
 
 "Amen, I jes knowed yo' would," broke in Old Abe. 
 
220 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 Messengers were sent out and soon the house was filled with 
 the friends and well-wishers of the Overleys, young and old. 
 A Christmas dinner was served amid wit and humor, the 
 kind only known to those who have enjoyed the hospitality 
 of the old plantations of the South. Speech, song, and 
 laughter resounded through the rafters of the famous old 
 dining room until early morning. Abe's thoughts and feel- 
 ings not being of the kind that held sway at the big house, 
 he had stolen quietly away and made his way to his mother 's 
 grave. He cast himself upon the cold ground beneath which 
 she lay still and motionless. 
 
 "Mother, I have avenged thee. Thy murderers now lie 
 cold in death. Their jeers and curses are stilled forever. 
 Their pleadings and cries will be answered by the imps of 
 torment. Oh, great God! Where art Thou? Mother, my 
 work is done. What wilt thou have me do ? The land of my 
 birth, the land of the morning of my life, the land that knows 
 all the sweetness of my childhood, the land that knows thy 
 motherly care, is accursed to me now. By the gods!" he 
 exclaimed, as he sprang to his feet, "I would that I could 
 kill each one of them over again. Oh, mother, guide me 
 anew. What wilt thou have me do ? " 
 
 While Abe stood looking down upon his mother's grave 
 his father approached him and said : "My boy, come wid me, 
 I wants to talk to yo V 
 
 Abe went to the old man 's cabin, where he listened to plans 
 for the future. Abe did not divulge the secrets of his life 
 to his father. 
 
 Jack Smaly, after his horse had made its way home, was 
 found by his friends where he had fallen. The verdict of 
 the coroner's jury was, that he came to his death by a "fall 
 off his horse, which broke his neck." Jack's well-known 
 habit of riding through the woods to his home after his 
 nightly carousals paved the way for this verdict. Abe was 
 not mentioned in connection with his death. 
 

 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 'EW YEAR'S day came only too soon. Malcolm was 
 reminded of the fact that he still had his course at 
 Oberlin College to finish. His father insisted that the 
 bride stay with him for a short time only. It was finally 
 agreed that she would stay on the plantation until Easter 
 time, when she, and the- Senior Overley, would visit Oberlin. 
 At the end of the school year the Donewells and Overleys 
 would make an extended tour of Canada and Europe. The 
 party finally left. Abe bade farewell to his friends, the 
 mates of his boyhood days, knowing that he would never 
 return. 
 
 His farewell to his mother's grave was taken in silence. 
 He approached the mound in company with his father, 
 Messrs. Overley and Donewell, Dean Sternly and Professor 
 Smirchum. This old woman's grave nestled among the 
 graves of seven generations of Overleys, and was marked by 
 a granite stone upon which was inscribed ' ' Mammy 'Rinda, ' ' 
 a term of endearment fully understood only by those who 
 knew and appreciated her. As the party stood with uncov- 
 ered heads different thoughts and feelings surged through 
 their breasts. 
 
 Abe's sorrow was of the kind that wrings men's hearts. 
 He was a strong man bowed with grief, a strong heart burst- 
 ing with a sense of injustice. His whole being strained to 
 the bursting point, with no outlet. Dry eyes, twitching 
 mouth, clinched hands, rigid form, marked his terrible suf- 
 ferings. All eyes were turned upon him. Professor 
 Smirchum, who seemed to be greatly affected by Abe's mute 
 agony, took his hand and said in a kindly voice : 
 
 ' ' Mr. Overley, I am sorry, indeed, to see the extent of your 
 sorrow. Your mother must have been a grand woman to 
 
 221 
 
222 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 have deserved the respect she seems to have commanded. 
 What can I do to help you?" 
 
 "Nothing, sir; I must begin life anew, and amid new 
 scenes, new environments. From now on my success or my 
 failure will depend upon my personal efforts." 
 
 Professor Smirchum drew to one side soliloquizing: "How 
 could I have been so blind as to believe that these people are 
 different from any other people. This trip reveals to me 
 what they are doing, what they haVe done, in what respect 
 vast numbers of them are held by the better class of whites. 
 I am now convinced that the great howl and cry sent up by 
 this Governor is a fear of what they are doing and not what 
 they are not doing. He vetoed the bill appropriating money 
 for a colored normal school. At the same time he was forced, 
 as Governor, to sign charters for twelve Negro banks. Then 
 these people raise thousands of dollars among themselves to 
 carry on their school. What an object-lesson! Could there 
 be a more convincing argument as to the energy that lies 
 dormant in this race? What in the name of God will be the 
 future of this people? If my Southern brothers do not 
 bestir themselves, do not awaken their 'cracker' brother, 
 these Negro people will own this fair Southland. ' ' Thus this 
 new convert reasoned within himself. 
 
 "Abe, my boy," said Malcolm A. Overley, Sr., "I am still 
 your friend in the full sense of that word. Whatever you 
 do when you leave school, remember that I am entitled to 
 know. ' ' 
 
 "Mr. Overley, I shall always remember you," answered 
 Abe. "I shall always keep in touch with you. Your kind- 
 ness to me is the one bright spot in my memory that binds 
 me to this old plantation." As Abe finished Mr. Overley 
 placed his hand upon his shoulder, saying with intense 
 earnestness. 
 
 "My boy, that mound of earth covers one of the noblest 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 223 
 
 women that it has ever been my lot to meet. I can never for- 
 get that she took my Abe to her breast, a puny, sickly child, 
 nursed him day and night, put new life in him, guided his 
 footsteps, was a mother to him, indeed, until he is now the 
 man of whom I am proud. That old woman was your mother. 
 She was a slave in name, but never in fact. Boy, there is 
 nothing I will not do for you so long as you are true to 
 her teachings. Your old father has ever been my companion. 
 We shall continue our journey of life together." 
 
 "I thank you, Mr. Overley," said Abe, as they clasped 
 hands. 
 
 Professor Smirchum had been a close observer of all that 
 was transpiring. He had never dreamed of such friend- 
 ships among the people of the South. 
 
 When the party turned to leave Abe put his arm about 
 his father and said: "Dad, I leave with Malcolm tomorrow. 
 I have three more years in school in which time I hope to 
 have finished a course in civil engineering; then, if God has 
 been merciful to us, I will send for you to spend your last 
 days with me and mine." 
 
 The old man raised his eyes to heaven and said: "Lawd, 
 watch over my boy. Thy will be done. ' ' 
 
 As the sun went down the next day, the Donewell car, 
 with Abe aboard, crossed the Alabama line, bearing him away 
 from scenes and faces which he was destined never to see 
 again. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HEN the Done well party arrived in Oberlin Abe 
 took his leave of them, explaining that he 
 would go to New York City and prepare 
 himself for entrance to the College which he had selected. 
 After tramping about the city for several days he pro- 
 cured a job as assistant janitor to an old Negro, who had 
 charge of a flat building, at ten dollars per month and board. 
 Abe soon made himself felt by his willingness to work. 
 The owner of the flat, who was a prosperous Jew, watched 
 Abe very closely. Noting his studious habits and general 
 deportment, he concluded he would offer Abe a better job. 
 
 "Young man I haf noticed dot you never goes out. You 
 haf always a book. What for you reads all of the time?" 
 
 "I am trying to prepare myself for College. I want to 
 take a course in civil engineering," answered Abe. 
 
 "Veil, dot is very goot. I likes to see a young man dot is 
 trying to help himself. I needs a goot man in a goot job. 
 But you haf no vife. You gets yourself a goot vife, and I 
 finds you a good job." 
 
 ' ' Mr. Goldenheimer, your suggestion makes it well nigh im- 
 possible for me to accept," said Abe. "I am sure I do not 
 know where I will find this good woman. What will this 
 job pay?" 
 
 "Veil, for you and a vife I pays seventy-five dollars a 
 month and rent free. Dot is very goot vages. I works for 
 three dollars a week for two years onct. Vot you think of 
 dot?" 
 
 "When do you want me to go to work?" asked Abe. 
 
 "I needs a man right avay," answered Mr. Goldenheimer. 
 ' * But vy you axe ven I vants you ? ' ' Abe was silent for some 
 moments. He was considering the advisability of explaining 
 his love affair to Mr. Goldenheimer. Finally he said: 
 
 224 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 225 
 
 ''Mr. Goldenheimer, I am engaged to a girl who is college 
 bred, who has always had a good home, has never done work 
 of any kind, save that which would naturally fall to her 
 about her father 's home. We are to be married when I finish 
 my course. I do not feel that I should offer her this home, 
 being so different from that to which she has been accus- 
 tomed. But I am sure, sir, I can do your work as well with- 
 out a wife, as I can with one. ' ' 
 
 " Young man, I pelebes you can. I make it a rule to hire 
 no mans dot has not a vife," said Mr. Goldenheimer. "But 
 I say dot if dot young lady ish a goot one she vill come. I 
 vates two weeks. Nine hundred dollars a year. You mind 
 dot?" 
 
 "What must I do? Will Nancy think me a fool if I make 
 this suggestion to her? I will ask Uncle Joe and Aunt Jane 
 what they think. I will also write Malcolm. Mr. Donewell 
 ought to be able to write me what is best to do. Mr. Overley 
 but he is too far away. My father would be compelled to 
 get some person to write for him. ' ' Thus Abe reasoned with 
 himself. He finally concluded to write Miss Watson and 
 explain the matter to her. 
 
 He wrote her as follows : 
 
 NEW YORK CITY, February , 18 . 
 DEAR NANCY : 
 
 The contents of this note may not please you, but read it 
 carefully and answer by return mail, as I have but two weeks 
 to consider. Mr. Goldenheimer, for whom you will remember 
 I am working, has offered me a position as janitor of a build- 
 ing at nine hundred dollars per year and house rent, light, 
 and fuel free, provided I get a wife. Nancy, can you help 
 me out in this matter?" 
 
 Yours, as ever, 
 
 ABE. 
 P. S. Answer by return mail. 
 
 ABE. 
 
226 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 P. S. This offer is open to me for two weeks. Answer 
 soon. 
 
 ABE. 
 
 When the letter reached Miss Watson she smiled to herself 
 thinking that Abe must have been a bit agitated when he 
 wrote. She, however, went immediately to her mother and 
 put the letter in her hands. After reading the note several 
 times, the mother said : 
 
 "Daughter, what do you want to do?" 
 
 ' ' Go, ' ' was the daughter 's brief reply. 
 
 "But will your father consent? This is so sudden," 
 answered the mother. 
 
 Mr. Watson was called into the room and given the note. 
 He, too, smiled when he read it. 
 
 "Daughter, this is a very sudden proposal. I am not 
 prepared to give my consent. I will communicate with my 
 friends in New York City. I have had dealings for years 
 with a Goldenheimer, of that city. I wonder if this is he? 
 However, daughter, I will not keep him waiting very long." 
 
 Mr. Watson called Mr. Goldenheimer, who was a wholesale 
 grocer, over the long-distance telephone. He appeared to 
 be satisfied with what he learned, but said nothing to his 
 wife, preferring to wait for Abe's next note. 
 
 Abe received the following in reply to his urgent letter : 
 
 OBERLIN, OHIO, February , 18 . 
 MR. ABRAHAM OVERLEY: 
 
 DEAR SIR Your brief and ambiguous note has reached me. 
 I am at a loss to understand just what you want. Can I 
 "help you out?" Do you want me to look up some woman 
 to be your wife ? Two weeks is a very short time in which to 
 undertake such an important matter. I will consult my 
 mother. Maybe she can "help you out." In the meantime 
 you write my father and ask his assistance. I will be glad 
 to have your plans more in detail. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 NANCY WATSON. 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 227 
 
 When Abe read Miss Watson's note he immediately for- 
 worded to her a full statement of his plans, laying great 
 stress upon the fact that he could have his old father with 
 him should he be able to obtain this position. He also wrote 
 Mr. Watson, explaining the situation. Before the letter 
 reached Mr. Watson, however, one from Mr. Goldenheimer 
 had reached him in which he was told Abe would be carefully 
 looked after and that so long as he did his work in a proper 
 manner this job or something better was open to him. Ten 
 days later we find Abe installed in his new home, a four- 
 room flat which had been furnished by Mr. Goldenheimer as 
 a, present to the bride-elect. 
 
 Abe was the proudest man in all New York City. Miss 
 Watson and her father were due in the city at 2 p. m., but we 
 find Abe at the station before 1 o'clock, scanning the faces 
 of the passengers as they pass out from the trains. Mr. 
 Goldenheimer happened to notice Abe as he passed in with 
 some friends, and said with a merry twinkle in his eye : 
 
 "My poy, vat you do here now? Your train ish not due 
 for ein hour yet. You think dot girl vill go mit some 
 fellow?" passing on before Abe could answer. At last Abe's 
 vigil is ended. Miss Watson and her parents appear at the 
 gates. The party was joined by several of Mr. Watson's 
 friends, men of means, two of whom were real estate dealers, 
 the third an undertaker. The party went immediately to 
 the home of the editor of a well-known newspaper, where it 
 had been arranged the marriage ceremony would be 
 performed. 
 
 The eventful night of March 4, 18 , came. The wedding 
 guests filled the editor's home to overflowing, elaborate 
 gowns were conspicuous by their absence, it being under- 
 stood that the bride would be attired in street costume. The 
 
 Rev. Dr. C officiated. After the ceremony Mr. and Mrs. 
 
 Overley received the congratulations of their friends after 
 
228 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 which they quietly drove to their new home in company with 
 the bride's parents. Abe had written a long letter to his 
 father and Mr. Overley, explaining the situation, and received 
 their hearty consent and approval in return. Within six 
 months Mr. Goldenheimer raised Abe's salary to one hundred 
 dollars per month, saying that he considered the work more 
 than one man could do, and in view of the further fact that 
 the flat was filled and several prospective tenants were on 
 the waiting list. Abe 's management of the building made it 
 a very desirable place in which to live. When he entered 
 College he was astonished to find that the two Japanese, 
 whom he had known at Oberlin College, had also entered 
 upon the same course which he had undertaken. Abe saw a 
 great deal of these men. They seemed to be very familiar 
 with certain facts connected with his past. At the end of 
 the first school year Abe found himself marked thirtieth in 
 a class of forty-four. He seemed very much disappointed at 
 his rating. 
 
 Mr. Goldenheimer said to him a few days later : ' ' Veil, my 
 poy you pass. You do very well mit all dot vork to do. 
 I makes you my head janitor. You gets one hundred dollars 
 a month and rent free. You haf more time. You pass high. 
 How dot suit you ? ' ' 
 
 Mr. Goldenheimer, I scarcely know how to thank you, 
 I- ." 
 
 "No; dot is beseness," interrupted Mr. Goldenheimer. 
 "You do my vork veil. You keep my house full all the time. 
 Now, you keep ten houses full and I pays you more. You 
 buys everything dot goes in dose houses. You keeps my 
 house account. Now, vat you say to dot ? ' ' 
 
 "I will do my best, sir," answered Abe. 
 
 "Veil, dot is beseness; ven you not do dot I pays you and 
 gets somepody," said Mr. Goldenheimer. 
 
CHAPTER XL. 
 
 BE now had more time to devote to his lectures, and 
 with his wife's assistance he brought his rating at the 
 end of his second school year up to sixth in a class of 
 forty-nine. His wife was delighted with this improvement, 
 though Abe insisted that but for her assistance he would surely 
 have failed. At the end of his third year, when it was known 
 that lie was one of the first three of his class, now numbering 
 forty, the Japanese approached him with a proposal which 
 at first was very hard for Abe to resist. They called Abe's 
 attention to the political conditions in the East, which were 
 changing very rapidly. Japan was determined to be mis- 
 tress of the Pacific, and in the near future he might hear the 
 roar of Japanese guns off the Western Coast of the United 
 States. They told him that he had no reason to love nor 
 fight for a flag that was no protection to him; that the 
 Japanese Government wanted educated American Negroes 
 in her service, where his race would be no bar against his 
 advancement. They explained to him further that they were 
 princes of the blood Royal and were commissioned by the 
 Mikado to enlist or commission recruits as they saw fit. 
 They also stated that they had commissioned the three 
 Negroes, who would graduate with them, Second Lieutenants 
 in the Engineer Corps of the Japanese Army at a salary of 
 sixteen hundred dollars per year, and they were frank to 
 state that they wanted Abe because they felt that he would 
 be of great service to Japan, should a conflict come on be- 
 tween the two countries. The wily Jap then pictured the 
 lynching of Abe's mother and sister in such colors that the 
 demon in him, which had lain dormant for three years, was 
 aroused and took flaming hold on him once more. His blood 
 took on the fire that arouses men to kill. He was in the full 
 
 229 
 
230 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 height of a consuming passion when the vision of Nancy and 
 her child came before him. His passion was subdued. His 
 calm reason regained its sway. Abe was himself again. He 
 promised the Japanese that after he had consulted his wife 
 he would give them a definite answer. When Abe arrived at 
 home that night he found Nancy in a dimly lighted room, 
 quietly rocking his little son, who seemed fretful. Nancy 
 noticed by Abe's demeanor that something unusual had hap- 
 pened. Motioning him to a seat by her side she asked what 
 was troubling him. Abe told her of the offer made him by 
 the envoys of Japan laying particular stress upon the com- 
 mission, but he said, speaking as if in a dream. "Can I 
 renounce forever, the allegiance I owe my country because 
 of personal wrongs, because of the crimes of murderers; 
 can I renounce forever the land that gave my mother birth, 
 the land in which she now lies buried; can I renounce for- 
 ever, the land that my fathers knew, the land which I now 
 know as my country, my home ; can I renounce forever, the 
 land of my few friends, the land in which they are daily 
 appearing; can I renounce forever th#t which I know, and 
 embark in a foreign land in that which is problematical; 
 can I 1" 
 
 He suddenly sprang to his feet, saying : 
 
 "Nancy, my mother appeared to me in my thoughts. She 
 held the Stars and Stripes proudly above her head while her 
 other hand was extended to me. My mother wills that I 
 shall defend the flag of my country. ' ' 
 
 Two days later the Japanese called upon Abe to obtain his 
 final answer. He said : ' ' Gentlemen, I have considered your 
 proposition very carefully and conclude that, although the 
 Stars and Stripes afford me little protection, although the 
 laws of this land are interpreted against me, although the 
 machinery of the law is too weak to bring the murderers of 
 my mother to justice, in spite of these things and in spite of 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 231 
 
 attempts at every turn to humiliate me, in spite of what may 
 seem strange to you, that one part of a nation can and does 
 hate another, I must decline your offer. Will you fight the 
 land of the Eising Sun? No! Nor will I fight the land of 
 my birth, over which the sun is now rising. I am proud that 
 I am an American ! ' ' 
 
 The Japanese were astounded. They, like hundreds of 
 thousands of other people, American citizens, too, never 
 imagined that a Negro's heart was governed by the same 
 honorable impulses that other men's are; that his soul is 
 alive to the touch that stirs other men ; in short, that a Negro 
 is a Man. 
 
 Two weeks before Abe's commencement, Mr. Golden- 
 heimer died very suddenly. Abe was notified that his 
 services as superintendent would be dispensed with, but that 
 he could have the choice of the care of any one of the flats, 
 that now numbered thirteen, at seventy-five dollars per 
 month. Abe immediately severed all connections with the 
 estate. His wife, who handled his finances, showed him de- 
 posits to the amount of twenty-five hundred dollars, and Abe 
 concluded to embark in the practice of his profession. 
 
 Abe's commencement day was June 1st, 18 . May 31st 
 a long, legal envelope was handed Mrs. Overley by the 
 postman. It proved to contain a very important document. 
 It appears that Leon DeVaux had been making yearly trips 
 to New York, and had kept in close touch with Abe's prog- 
 ress, through Mr. Goldenheimer, and knew his standing in 
 the college. DeVaux 's brother was the head of a large cor- 
 poration that was reclaiming land in the lower counties of 
 the State of Louisiana, and building a narrow-gauge railroad 
 to the coast. This envelope contained a contract guarantee- 
 ing him employment for five years, at twelve hundred dollars 
 the first year, twenty-four hundred dollars the second year, 
 three thousand dollars the third year and thereafter. His 
 
232 AS WE SEE IT. 
 
 salary to commence June 1st, 18 . It also contained a draft 
 for five hundred dollars. "When Abe came home his little 
 son came up to him and handed him these papers. Abe paid 
 no attention to them, but simply cast them upon the table, 
 and took the boy in his arms, remarking : 
 
 ' * Nancy, is it my turn to feed this young wolf of yours ? ' ' 
 For an answer the young mother handed the papers to the 
 child, who again handed them to his father. Abe's eye 
 caught sight of the check which had fallen to the floor. Upon 
 examining it he was amazed to find that it was drawn by 
 Napoleon DeVaux. He hastily examined the contract, noting 
 that he was not expected in New Orleans until the September 
 following. 
 
 1 'Nancy, you have certainly brought success to me. 'In 
 three years and thereafter' I will surely be earning three 
 thousand dollars per year. What shall we do with the four 
 months I have on my hands before September, when my 
 labors must begin?" 
 
 "Let us go to Oberlin and read up on Louisiana Geology," 
 answered Mrs. Overley. "We can send for your father 
 again; maybe he will come to spend a few months with us; 
 he would not leave the plantation to live. It seems queer 
 that he should feel bound to stay on that place with Mr. 
 Overley until one of them dies. Malcolm is down there now, 
 and they do not need him. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Nancy, you do not understand these old men. They love 
 each other as brothers love. Neither would live long without 
 the other. They have known each other and lived on the 
 same place in peace for seventy-eight years. Three-quarters 
 of a century; just think of it! They must live out the rest 
 of their lives together. Abe sent for his father, who came to 
 Oberlin and spent two months with him, promising to join 
 him and his wife in Louisiana should be outlive Mr. Overley. 
 
 At the end of three years the company began paying Abe 
 
AS WE SEE IT. 233 
 
 three thousand dollars per year, he having come up to their 
 full expectations. 
 
 We leave him on his plantation in the full enjoyment of 
 home life, surrounded by his father and growing family, his 
 wealth and usefulness increasing as the years speed by, 
 increasing as the wealth and usefulness of many Negroes 
 before him, and as the wealth and usefulness of many 
 Negroes who come after him will increase. 
 
 And to a woman's love, a woman's implicit faith under 
 most peculiar circumstances, a woman's tenderness, 
 Abraham Overley gives all the credit for his success in life, 
 and when the night is come, and the boy kneels beside them, 
 Abe whispers to his sweetheart : c ' God grant, Nancy, that he 
 loves you as I loved my mother. ' ' 
 
 THE END 
 
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
 This book is due on the last DATE stamped below. 
 
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