At this, Policeman Roes canoe in: "I have seen," said he, "fish made of one and flesh of another long enough. Here are women and children standing out on the ice and snow, waiting all this afternoon for you to serve the white people first. Another thing I'd like to know, why is this difference in the soup? That black stuff is hardly fit for pigs to eat, Mr. Savage, and you know it."
"Our citizens furnish material for this soup," replied he, "and our citizens shall have it."
"Doesn't General Howard furnish a hundred pounds of beef and two hundred loaves of bread each day? and on Saturday it is double. Another thing I'd like to know—are these not our citizens?" pointing toward the yard full of colored people.
"There are ten thousand too many of 'em, and it's none of your business; I shall do as I please."
"I will let you know; I shall make it my business to report you to
General Howard."
Mr. Savage poured out a horrid volley of oaths at him, adding that all his reporting would make no difference with him. One Irish woman received three loaves of bread, four quarts of soup, and a large piece of meat. After nearly all, both white and colored, were served, the lieutenant policeman left, but Mr. Ross remained until the end of the disbursing. I was tempted to cheer the policeman for his bravery, but thought silence the better part of valor.
When Aunt Chloe's "cl'arin' up time" was come, I took my departure. I saw the policeman standing near the gate, and said in low tone, as I passed out, "I thank you for your words."
"Stop; do you live here?" he said.
"Temporarily."
"Go slowly till I get my club, so I can catch up. I want to see you."