"S'pose de nigga be caught?" interrupted a colored gentleman, lighting his pipe at the red-hot stove.
"Dat wouldn't be philosopy," responded the gentleman from Virginia. "It ain't philosopy to be caught. On de contrary it am dam foolishness."
A murmur of assent pervaded the place.
"Soh, reasonin' from de pig, dis nigga wor taught by philosopy to tink a great deal—to tink berry much;—and soh, one day de nigga got a kind o' absen' minded, and walked off, and forgot to come back.—Dis nigga actooaly did."
"Dat wor philosopy!" said a voice.
"An' as de nigga is in bad health, he am on his way to Canada, whar de climate am good for nigga's pulmonaries. An' fur fear de nigga mought hurt people's feelin', he trabels by night; an' fur fear he mought be axed questi'n which 'ud trubble him to ansaw, he carries dese sartificats—"
He showed his certificates—a revolving pistol and a knife. And each one of the colored congressmen produced certificates of a similar character from their rags.
"Lor', philosopy am a dam good ting!"
"Don't sweah, nigga!—behabe yesself!"
"Read us nudder won ob dem good chap'er from de Bible, Mistaw Speakaw," cried a dark gentleman, addressing old Royal.-"'Ehud, I hab a message from God to dee!' Yah-hah-hah!"