'But he whipped Sam, ma'am, when he was nearer dead than he am,' said Jim, whose station as house-servant allowed him a certain freedom of speech.
'Because he was brutal to Sam, should you be brutal to him? Can you expect me to tend you when you are sick, if you beat a dying man? Does Pompey say you should do such things?' said the lady.
'No, good ma'am,' said the old preacher, stepping out, with the freedom of an old servant, from the black mass, and taking his stand beside me in the open space left for the 'w'ite folks;' 'de ole man dusn't say dat, ma'am; he tell 'em de Lord want 'em to forgib dar en'mies—to lub dem dat pursyskute em;' then, turning to the Colonel, he added, as he passed his hand meekly over his thin crop of white wool and threw his long heel back, 'ef massa'll 'low me I'll talk to 'em.'
'Fire away,' said the Colonel, with evident chagrin. 'This is a nigger trial; if you want to screen the d—— hound you can do it.'
'I dusn't want to screed him, massa, but I'se bery ole and got soon to gwo, and I dusn't want de blessed Lord to ax me wen I gets dar why I 'lowed dese pore ig'nant brack folks to mudder a man 'fore my bery face. I toted you, massa, fore you cud gwo, I'se worked for you till I can't work no more; and I dusn't want to tell de Lord dat my massa let a brudder man be killed in cole blood.'
'He is no brother of mine, you old fool; preach to the nigs, don't preach to me,' said the Colonel, stifling his displeasure, and striding off through the black crowd, without saying another word.
Here and there in the dark mass a face showed signs of relenting; but much the larger number of that strange jury, had the question been put, would have voted—DEATH.
The old preacher turned to them as the Colonel passed out, and said, 'My chil'ren, would you hab dis man whipped, so weak, so dyin' as he am, of he war brack?'
'No, not ef he war a darky—fer den he wouldn't be such an ole debil,' replied Jim, and about a dozen of the other negroes.
'De w'ite ain't no wuss dan de brack—dey'm all 'like—pore sinners all ob 'em. De Lord wudn't whip a w'ite man no sooner dan a brack one—He tinks de w'ite juss so good as de brack (good Southern doctrine, I thought). De porest w'ite trash wudn't strike a man wen he war down.'