“And how did you get such a dreadful sentence?”
“I ent do much, ma'm; I des scare a white lady.”
A wave of revulsion swept over the teacher, and involuntarily she stepped back. The negro looked up and grinned.
“De hatchet des cut 'e foot a little bit; but I trow de hatchet. I ent tech um; no, ma'm. Den atterwards 'e baby daid; den dey say I muss stay yer fuhrebber. I ent sorry, 'kase I know say I hab to wuck anywheys I is; if I stay yer, if I go 'way, I hab to wuck. En I know say if I git outer dis place Mr. Morris'll kill me sho—des sho. So I like fuh stay yer berry well.”
And the teacher went away, wondering if her work—if any work—would avail; and what answer the future would have for this awful problem.
A SNIPE-HUNT
A STORY OF JIM-NED CREEK
BY M. E. M. DAVIS
“I ain't sayin' nothin' ag'inst the women o' Jim—Ned Creek ez women,” said Mr. Pinson; “an' what's more, I'll spit on my hands an' lay out any man ez'll dassen to sass 'em. But ez wives the women o' Jim-Ned air the outbeatenes' critters in creation!”