"I don't wonder you stare"—a little laugh. "I'm talking like a fool, and, for aught I know, feeling like one, aching to fight, and knowing that I might as well quarrel with the winds, or stab that water as it flows by."
"As with what?"
"The fellow I've just been getting a good look at."
"What manner of fellow?"
"Ignorant, selfish, brutal, devilish."
"Tremendous! why don't you bind him over to keep the peace?"
"Because he is like the judge of old time, neither fears God nor respects his image,—when his image is carved in ebony, and not ivory."
"What do you call this fellow?"
"Public Opinion."
"This big fellow is abusing and devouring a poor little chap, eh? and the chap's black?"