“And in their haughty breasts, as of old, only stronger, is the determination to have their own way, to rule this ‘ignorant rabble,’ to circumvent the cowardly will of their Northern foe, who had brought this thing to pass, to still rule them in one way if not in another—rule or ruin.
“And the storm is coming up the heavens. The lightning is being stored, and the tempest of hail, the burning lightning, and deafening thunder peals are awaiting this day of wrath when the storm shall burst.
“And you sit on in your ease and will not believe it.”
His eyes wuz bent on my pardner’s form, who wuz leanin’ back in a almost luxurious attitude in his soft copper-plate-covered rockin’ chair, but I see he didn’t mean him in particeler; no, his eyes had in ’em a wide, deep look that took in the hull country, North and South, and he went on in almost eloquent axents:
“The Northern soldier who twenty-five years ago hung up his old rifle and powder-horn with a sigh of content that the war against oppression and slavery had been won still sits under them in content and self-admiration of his prowess, and heeds not at all the signs in the heavens.
“And the wise men in the National Capital sit peacefully in their high places and read over complacently the words they wrote down a quarter of a century ago:
“‘All slaves are free.’
“And the bandage that Justice wears, having slipped too far down over their wise eyes, they have not seen the handcuffs and chains that have weighed down the still enslaved.
“And they read these words:
“‘We proclaim peace in all your borders.’