I hit aginst that bureau quite a number of times in my talk with them neighbors, and I could see that it creaked awfully in their ears; its draws drawed mighty heavy to ’em, and the hull structure wuz hated by ’em worse than any gulontine wuz ever hated by Imperialists.
And colored schools, of course there wuz exceptions to it, but, as a rule, them neighbors despised the idee of schools for the “niggers,” despised the teachers and the hull runnin’ gear of the institution.
The colored men and wimmen they seemed to look upon about as Josiah and me looked onto our dairy, though mebby not quite so favorably, for there wuz one young yearlin’ heifer and one three-year-old Jersey that I always said knew enough to vote.
They had wonderful minds, both on ’em, so I always said, and I petted ’em a sight and thought everything on ’em.
But the “niggers” in their eyes wuz nuthin’ and never could be anything but slaves; in that capacity they wuz willin’ to do anything for ’em—doctor ’em when they wuz sick, and clothe ’em and take care on ’em.
They wuz willin’ to call ’em Uncle and Aunt and Mammy, but to call ’em Mr. or Mrs. wuz a abomination to ’em; and one woman rebuked me hard for callin’ a old black preacher Mr. Peters.
Sez she, “I wouldn’t think you would call a low-down nigger ‘Mr.’”
But I sez, “I heard you call him Uncle, and that is goin’ ahead of me; for much as I respect him for his good, Christian qualities, I wouldn’t go so fur as to tell a wrong story in order to claim relationship with him. He hain’t no kin to me, and so I am more distant to him and call him Mister.”
But Mrs. Stanwood (that wuz her name) tosted her head, and I see my deep, powerful argument hadn’t convinced her.