As he did not say to whom their arms should be surrendered, the Judge replied——
“Well, General, you know I am, like yourself, merely an incident in Baconsville; and whilst I have, of course, a certain amount of influence with the colored people, on account of my political affiliations with them, I cannot undertake to say that they will respond to your request. I will do what I can to induce them to do so. But suppose these negotiations and propositions fail, is it likely that that there will be a collision?”
“I think there will.”
“Well, as I am one of a very few white ‘radicals’ here, if a collision takes place I suppose I shall stand a pretty poor chance.”
“I have no doubt that you will.”
Shortly after Judge K. left Mr. Marmor’s office (which adjoined his dwelling), Capt. Doc, Lieut. Watta, Mr. Springer and Rev. Mr. Jackson (the Legislative member who had delivered the oration on the 4th), entered. Mr. Jackson was much excited, and walked up and down the room, interlarding questions and ejaculations and prayers quite promiscuously; unheeding the kindly solicitude of a bright little boy of five years, with shining auburn ringlets, and great, soft, spiritual eyes, which looked eagerly towards “the Elder’s” face as he went tugging a large Bible back and forth behind him.
“Ha! Jackson, hear that boy now,” said Doc. “The child is the best Christian of the two, come to the pinch.”
“What? What was you saying Doc?” asked the Reverend Honorable.
“Why, just see what that boy has got, and hear what he’s saying. He don’t scare worth a cent. Do you Bub? You’ll make a soldier some day, won’t you?”
“No sir, I reckon I won’t, cause soldiers kill. ‘Thou shalt not kill.’ That’s the sixth commandment.”