"No, suh," said the negro. "I don' buy no thing lack dat whut flies when hit's running, an' whut runs when hit's standing still. No, suh! Good-by! I'se gone!"
FAITH IN THE WHITE FOLKS
It was night, and Elm Street was dimly lighted. From a negro eating-house that opened into the street came sounds of harsh voices and the rattling of pans. Rachel, the mulatto, who believed everything a white person did or said, and who tested all information with: "Did de white folks say so?" was tugging at her little grandson, who was selling papers.
"I can't sell papers here, grandma."
"Why, son?"
"The folks in the eating-house won't let me."
"Did de white folks say so?"
"No, ma'am. This route was given to another boy."