"Uh huh!" says 'Lisses, "A cullid cap'n, huh? All right, boy, you kin give yore confidences to a cullid cap'n ef you's a-mind to. But, speakin' ez yore friend an' well-wisher I should advise you at the same time w'en you is pickin' out your fav'rit' cullid cap'n 'at you lakwise also picks out yore fav'rit' flower fur display at the memorial services in case of a storm comin' up on the way acrost the high seas. 'Cause," he says, "it stands to reason the higher them seas is the deeper they is; an' ef you gits yo'se'f drownded out yonder it'll be a tho'ough job. Mind you," he says, "I ain't sayin' nothin' agin my own race so long ez they remains whar they natchelly belongs, w'ich is on the solid ground. But ef I'm goin' journey acros't the broad Newlantic Ocean I craves me a w'ite cap'n—yas, an' a w'ite crew, too."
One or two, including this here Oscar, tries to break in on him but he keeps right on. He says to 'em, he says:
"I wonder is you Ole Home-Weekers been figgerin' out how you is goin' git control of yore beloved native Affika w'en you arrives safely tharin? Seems lak to me tha's a p'int w'ich you better be payin' a right smart attention to it befo'hand. 'Cause, frum whut I kin gather, w'ite folks is done already laid claim to the most part of Affika w'ich is fit fur a Christian to live in. I bet you wharever they is a diamond-mine or a gold diggin's or an ivory-mine or anythin' wuth havin', you'll find a bunch of w'ite men roostin' close't by, wid 'Posted' signs up on every hand. Whut does you aim to do 'en?"
"They ain't got no right fur to be thar in the fust place," says Oscar. "The Prophet done oratate fully 'bout that. Didn't Affika belong to us black folkses to begin wid? Has we ever deeded it away? No, that we ain't! Then it's still our'n, ain't it? So, therefo', we goes back in force an' th'ough our chosen leaders we demands 'at these yere trespassers re-hands it back over to its rightful owners, w'ich," he says, "tha's us."
"Even so," says 'Lisses, "even so. You lands an' you demands—an' 'en whut? This yere country belonged once't upon a time to the Injuns. An' w'ite folks come along an' chiseled 'em out of it, didn't they? They shore did so! But I ain't heared 'bout no gin'el movemint in favor of turnin' it back over ag'in to the Injuns. The Injuns mout feel that-a-way but I ain't 'spectin' to see many w'ite folkses votin' in favor of it.
"Lis'sen: Once't you let w'ite folks git they feets rooted in the ground an' they stays fast, reguardless of whut the former perprietors may think 'bout it. W'ite folks in gin'el is very funny that way an' more 'specially ef they is Angler-Saxons. I don't know, myse'f, whar this yere Angler-Saxony is. I done look fur it on the map an' 'tain't thar. I reckin so many Angler-Saxons must a-moved off to other parts of the world seekin' whut they could confisticate unto theyselves 'at the 'riginal country they hailed frum has done vanish'. Jedgin' by they names, some of 'em must a-been Scotch an' some of 'em must a-been Irish and plenty more of 'em must a-been English; but no matter whut they names is, they is all alak in one respec': an' tha's clingin' fast to all the onimproved real-estate w'ich they gits they hands on. I knows, 'cause I wuz born and brung up 'mongst 'em down in No'th Ca'lina. An' they is still a right smart sprinklin' of 'em lef' 'round these yere No'the'n parts, too. You jest try to mek 'em give up somethin' w'ich they desires fur to keep on keepin' it, an' you'll find 'em a powerful onhealthy crowd to prank wid. They's a heap of talk," he says, "'bout the other races, w'ich is pourin' in yere, crowdin' 'em plum out of Noo Yawk City in time, notwithstandin' of 'em havin' been amongst the fust settlers yere. But lemme tell you somethin': Ef they wuzn' but two of them Angler-Saxons lef' in this whole town I bet you one of 'em would be the mayor an' the other'd be the chief of police. Next to holdin' on to the land, runnin' the gov'mint is the most fav'rit' sport they follows after.
"An'," he says, "ef 'at is true of this yere country, you tek it frum me it's true of Affika. Me, I looks fur a lot of cullid fun'els to tek place befo' you has yore wish 'bout regainin' yore former homestids over thar," he says. Then his tone sort of changes. "But," he says, "I has jest been statin' the argumints on the No side. I wants to be fair, so I will lakwise 'low there's somethin' to be said on yore side, too. In fact," he says, "ef only the suitable 'rangemints kin be made befo'hand, I aims to onlist myse'f in wid the movemint an' give to it," he says, "my most hearties' suppo't."
That seems to sort of take 'em by surprise. This here Oscar Jordan, being the most gabby one, is the first to get over his surprisement.
"How come you kin feel that way, 'Lisses," he says, "w'en fur the pas' ten minutes you been preachifyin' agin the whole notion? How come you willin' fur to remove yo'se'f off to the perposed All-Affikin Republic ef you holds them views w'ich you jest expound?"
"Who, me?" says 'Lisses. "You got me wrong! I ain't aimin' to remove myse'f nowhars. I is mos' comfor'ble whar I is at. No suh, what I aims to do is to 'tach myse'f to the collector's office yere at home an' handle the money-dues ez they comes a-rollin' in frum the rest of you niggers. That's goin' be me an' my job—collectin' an' also disbursin'—'specially the las'-named."