"It's a harmless enough looking little chap," responded Mr. Laird, nodding towards the receding youngster. He was toddling along beside his mother, his hand in hers.
"They're harmless enough while you keep them in their place, sir," retorted my uncle. "But you must know that our people down here have their own way of doing that. And you don't understand the situation, sir, you don't understand the situation," repeated Uncle Henry, employing the favourite formula of the South. "For instance, I heard you express surprise at something the other day. You remember when Smallwood, the rector of the Coloured Episcopal Church, called to ask Mrs. Lundy for a subscription—you seemed horrified that he went to the back door, because he was a preacher and dressed up like a bishop."
Mr. Laird nodded.
"Well, sir, if he was the Archbishop of Canterbury—or the Pope of Rome—the back door's the place for him—so long as that's the colour of his skin. There isn't a self-respecting white family in the city but would shut the front door in his face. You understand, sir?"
"I don't think any more of them for that," was the quiet retort of Mr. Laird.
"That may be, sir. They'll stand your contempt, sir—but they won't let a pack of negroes walk all over 'em," my uncle's gorge rising again. "And I hope to God none of our neighbours saw you on the gallop round our back yard with a negro brat astride of you. You'd be finished here, sir, if they did. Just before that wench came in here with her young 'un, I was going to tell you that I met Mr. Furvell, and he asked me to give you an invitation, for him, to preach in our church next Sunday. Well, sir, I hope it'll stand all right—but if it got round town that you made a saddle-horse out of yourself for a nigger whelp to ride, you'd have the church to yourself, sir; I reckon a few old women might go to hear you, but you wouldn't have enough men there to take up the collection."
"I can't do it, Mr. Lundy," said the minister, with amazing quietness.
"Can't do what?" demanded uncle.
"Can't preach for your friend," replied the other. "I'm engaged."
"Engaged for what?"