Then why didn’t they have a chance to do it? I couldn’t tell, nor Josiah couldn’t, nor nobody. No wonder the tall black chimbly stood there a pintin’ up into the heavens like a great interrogation mark, a askin’ this solemn and unanswered conundrum:
“Why evil is allowed to flourish and the good to be overthrown?”
Yes, it wuz a conundrum that I couldn’t get the right answer to; but I thought more’n probable the Lord could answer it, and would in His own good time.
And as I looked at it I thought mebby that onbeknown to me, or Josiah, or anybody, that tall black ruin was doin’ a silent work in the hearts of Victor and Felix and many other of the young, intelligent, and resolute amongst this dark race.
Felix livin’, as he had, under the very shadder of it, so to speak, who could tell what influence it had in carvin’ this wrong down on the livin’ tablet of his heart, so it might be answered in all the work he might do in the future amongst his people?
And Victor, how often had his sad eyes rested on it, who knew how such an object lesson wuz strikin’ deep truths in his great heart. Bible truths such as—
“A house divided against itself cannot stand.”
And how it stood up black before him a askin’ him this everlastin’ and momentous question:
“How long his people could endure such cruel wrong and outrage?”