“‘A black man!’ screeches she.
“‘As black as my shoes,’ says Jim. ‘A great big, oily, dirty nigger,’ says he.
“He didn’t pick his words, d’ye see.
“‘Why, his head’s as woolly as a sheep’s back,’ he says.
“‘No, my girl,’ he goes on, ‘it can’t be allowed.’
“‘But I’m bound,’ says Tamsine, wi’ her face working pitiful.
“‘You are no more bound nor I am,’ says he. ‘The rascal’s imposed on ye shameful. He knows right well he’d no business to ax a white girl to marry him wi’out tellin’ her all the truth. Why didn’t he ax you straight if you’d be willin’ to take up wi’ a black man? But he knowed a deal better nor that.’
“‘But perhaps it isn’t the same Mr. Johnson,’ says Mrs. Mayne. ‘It ’ud be a pity for the maid to give up her husband if there was any mistake.’
“‘I know Longwood in California,’ says Jim, ‘as well as I know my own hand. I was there only last fall. ’Tisn’t a very big place, an’ I knowed every one as lives there. I knowed Samuel Johnson well—he come to chapel reg’lar. I reckon,’ says he, ‘the name o’ the minister as recommended him was Ebenezer Strong.’
“‘E-es,’ says Tamsine, ‘that’s the name. The Reverend Ebenezer Strong.’