GETTING back to the affair of the Scotch girl, I hated to give up her kindness and friendship. I would have given half my life to have had her possess just a least bit of negro blood in her veins, but since she did not and could not help it any more than I could help being a negro, I tried to forget it, straightened out my business and took a trip east, bent on finding a wife among my own.
As the early morning train carried me down the road from Megory, I hoped with all the hope of early manhood, I would find a sensible girl and not like many I knew in Chicago, who talked nothing but clothes, jewelry, and a good time. I had no doubt there were many good colored girls in the east, who, if they understood my life, ambition and morality, would make a good wife and assist me in building a little empire on the Dakota plains, not only as a profit to ourselves, but a credit to the negro race as well. I wanted to succeed, but hold the respect and good will of the community, and there are few communities that will sanction a marriage with a white girl, hence, the sacrifice.
I spent about six weeks visiting in Chicago and New York, finally returning west to southern Illinois to visit a family in C—dale, near M—boro, who were the most prosperous colored people in the town. They owned a farm near town, nine houses and lots in the city, and were practical people who understood business and what it took to succeed.
They had a daughter whom I had known as a child back in the home town M—plis, where she had cousins that she used to visit. She had by this time grown into a woman of five and twenty. Her name was Daisy Hinshaw. Now Miss Hinshaw was not very good-looking but had spent years in school and in many ways was unlike the average colored girl. She was attentive and did not have her mind full of cheap, showy ideals. I had written to her at times from South Dakota and she had answered with many inviting letters. Therefore, when I wrote her from New York that I intended paying her a visit, she answered in a very inviting letter, but boldly told me not to forget to bring her a nice present, that she would like a large purse. I did not like such boldness. I should have preferred a little more modesty, but I found the purse, however, a large seal one in a Fifth Avenue shop, for six dollars, which Miss Hinshaw displayed with much show when I came to town.
The town had a colored population of about one thousand and the many girls who led in the local society looked enviously upon Miss Hinshaw's catch—and the large seal purse—and I became the "Man of the Hour" in C—dale.
The only marriageable man in the town who did not gamble, get drunk and carouse in a way that made him ineligible to decent society, was the professor of the colored school. He was a college graduate and received sixty dollars a month. He had been spoiled by too much attention, however, and was not an agreeable person.
Miss Hinshaw was dignified and desired to marry, and to marry somebody that amounted to something, but she was so bold and selfish. She took a delight in the reports, that were going the rounds, that we were engaged, and I was going to have her come to South Dakota and file on a Tipp County homestead relinquishment that I would buy, and we would then get married.
The only objector to this plan was myself. I had not fallen in love with Miss Hinshaw and did not feel that I could. Daisy was a nice girl, however, a little odd in appearance, having a light brown complexion, without color or blood visible in the cheeks; was small and bony; padded with so many clothes that no idea of form could be drawn. I guessed her weight at about ninety pounds. She had very good hair but grey eyes, that gave her a cattish appearance.
She had me walking with her alone and permitted no one to interfere. She would not introduce me to other girls while out, keeping me right by her side and taking me home and into her parlor, with her and her alone, as company.