"You don't understand me, my friend" replied the scalawag, "our side are home folks, bred and born right here, and we know what we can do for our colored friends when we get to the legislature, and we are going to buy plantations for our men, and we are going to make our old friends like you sheriffs."
"Dats a mity heep ob promisin, white man," replied the negro suspiciously, "How menny shurrufs is yer agwine to hab in dis county?"
"Forty seven," replied the Scalawag.
"How menny jail houses is yer agwine to hab," asked the negro.
"We are going to do away with the jails," said he.
"Is?" exclaimed Joshua in surprise. "Ugh, Ugh! forty-leven shurrufs in dis county und all clecting taxes at wun time, Grate Jarryko, dar wont be nary tater, nur nary horg, nur nary ole settin hin—nur nary nigger in sebenteen fousan miles ob dis place. Saks a live, white man, dos yer aim to massercree fokes fo und aft? Whar wus yer when dey fit de war enny how?"
"Oh, I was at home raising breadstuffs for the poor," he answered.
"Raisin which fur de po, boss?" enquired Joshua.
"Breadstuffs," he replied.
"Und did de po git dey share?" asked Joshua.