To my astonishment, the effort brought immediately a stern change over John Mayrant’s face; then he answered in the kindest tones, “Thank you, Daddy Ben.”
This answer interpreted for me the whole thing, which otherwise would have been obscure enough: the old man held it to be an indignity that his young “Mas’ John” should, by the President’s act, find himself the subordinate of a member of the black race, and he had just now, in his perspiring effort, expressed his sympathy! Why he had chosen this particular moment (after quite obvious debate with himself) I did not see until somewhat later.
He now left us standing at the gate; and it was not for some moments that John Mayrant spoke again, evidently closing, for our two selves, this delicate subject.
“I wish we had not got into that second volume of yours.”
“That’s not progressive.”
“I hate progress.”
“What’s the use? Better grow old gracefully!
“‘Qui no pas l’esprit de son age
De son age a tout le malheur.’”
“Well, I’m personally not growing old, just yet.”
“Neither is the United States.”