“But can we afford to stop his education?”
“The more you educate, the more impossible you make his position in a democracy. Education! Can you change the colour of his skin, the kink of his hair, the bulge of his lips, the spread of his nose, or the beat of his heart, with a spelling book? The Negro is the human donkey. You can train him, but you can’t make of him a horse. Mate him with a horse, you lose the horse, and get a larger donkey called a mule, incapable of preserving his species. What is called our race prejudice is simply God’s first law of nature—the instinct of selfpreservation.”
Gaston was gazing at the ceiling with an absent look in his eyes and a smile playing around his lips.
“You are not listening to me now, you young rascal! You are dreaming about your bride.”
Gaston quickly lowered his eyes, and saw the messenger boy who had been standing several minutes with his telegram.
He read Sallie’s message with amazement.
“What can that mean?” He handed the telegram to the Preacher.
“It means he has discovered the facts, and there is going to be trouble. He is a man of terrific passions when his pride is roused.”
“I must go immediately.”
He closed his office and caught his train after a hard drive. When he reached Independence he sprang into a carriage and ordered the driver to take him direct to Oakwood. What had happened he did not know and he did not care. Of one thing he was now sure—Sallie’s love and the swift end of their separation.