The Forged Note: A Romance of the Darker Races

by Oscar Micheaux

He had not displayed his book there, or suggested a sale to the druggist. There were certain classes of his race to whom he never made a practice of showing the book for several reasons. The first and most significant of these reasons was, that he almost always found the Negroes who were engaged professionally, including teachers, not very appreciative of the work of their race, although any of them would have been insulted if this were told them. He had also made observation from other sources, concerning the possible sale of his book. His decision to dispense henceforth with showing the book to certain classes, had resulted, because of a little incident the year before in Cincinnati. He had observed the same in other cities before he reached Cincinnati. In Dayton, Indianapolis, and elsewhere; but in Cincinnati, it was so evident, that he was, in a way, ashamed to tell it afterwards. This is what occurred:

The colored people were making great efforts to secure a Y.M.C.A., and were, when he left the city, within fifteen thousand dollars of the amount they were required to raise. The white people had given sixty thousand. He became well acquainted with the secretary, and it was from him that he learned, without inquiring, that, of twenty-nine colored teachers who were receiving a minimum of sixty dollars a month, twenty-one had not subscribed one dollar toward this small amount the colored people were strenuously trying to raise. And of the eight who had subscribed, five had grudgingly given one dollar each. The secretary, himself a former teacher, admitted this with great humiliation.

Wyeth had always found the teachers profuse with excuses, when it came to buying the book. And he had found the doctors little better; but, to avoid what he had grown to expect, and which he invariably met, he had decided to ignore this class of his race. He did not offer criticism upon the whole teaching staff, because, of the three teachers out of twenty-nine in Cincinnati, who had actually contributed toward the colored Y.M.C.A., the professor had shown his sincerity and race appreciation, by subscribing one hundred dollars, and had paid it.

So Sidney Wyeth would never have shown the book to the druggist, with a view of sale, but Miss Palmer did. In her insistent manner, she urged him to buy. Now Wyeth, as was his custom, always went to the leading book store in each town, and had never failed to sell them a few books. The leading store in Effingham had purchased ten copies, and had placed an advertisement of ten inch space in the colored paper, that ran for a month, and which the druggist had seen. So, when Miss Palmer approached him insistently, he declared that he had seen the book advertised at that store, and, as was their custom, sometime during the year they offered all books at forty-nine cents, he would, if he wanted the book, purchase it then. Of course, he didn't want it, and Wyeth was provoked that Miss Palmer had even shown it to him; but Miss Palmer had, and, upon being told of these conditions, she at once ceased her efforts.

Of course, the druggist was wrong, and Wyeth knew it; but the druggist didn't. He wanted to bet—any amount, that he was right—that one of the biggest booksellers in the southland, offered all books, regardless of "best sellers," sometime during the year at forty-nine cents a copy. It cost the druggist two dollars to learn that he could be wrong, or mistaken at least, even if he had been to school and graduated from college, which, in the minds of his august contemporaries, meant that he knew everything.

It was Miss Palmer who advised Sidney that Dr. Randall, for druggists were called doctors also, among these people, had been to school and graduated from college.... And Miss Palmer was much chagrined that Wyeth had acted so hastily.... For times were hard and two dollars was something.... If he had caught her eye when she tried so hard to get his, she would have gotten him outside for a minute, one little minute, and then she would have told him who the other was.... She was almost in tears as she remonstrated with him for his hasty act.... Miss Palmer was sincere and meant it, because, for some reason, she was unable as yet to account; she really liked Mr. Wyeth. "He has such eyes," she told her cousin when she returned, while the bet was being settled.

"Well, we have lost two hours, so we will have to get a move on us now, to make up for lost time. Of course," he said cheerfully, "I've made two dollars, which is as much, maybe more, than we would have made in the meantime——"

"You did what!" Miss Palmer was amazed.

It was some time before she could be brought to believe it.

"We will go to a different part of the quarter today," she said after a time. Wyeth looked at her. Miss Palmer was very kind. And Sidney Wyeth longed for kindness. When he saw Miss Palmer as she was that day, he felt something amiss in his heart. She had said nothing today; whereas, yesterday she had acted, he thought, boldly.