ma clothes, so yo' won't have ter tear
'em," and Lizzie began to hurriedly unfasten her bodice. "Yo've got ter
search me right," she continued, throwing off piece after piece; "yo'll
fin' I am jes' like yo' sisters an' mammies, yo' po' tackies." "That'll
do," growled one of the men, as Lizzie was unbuttoning the last piece.
"Oh, no," returned the girl, "I'm goin' ter git naked; yer got ter see
that I'm er woman." White women were looking on from their windows at
this sight so shocking. One had the courage to shout "Shame! how dare
you expose that woman in that manner?" "Them's the curnel's orders,"
replied the leader, raising his hat. "Who is the Colonel, and what right
has he to give such orders?" shrieked the woman. "You ought to be
ashamed of yourselves for your own wives and daughters' sakes." The men
skulked away and left Lizzie victor on the field. Yours for justice and
right,

ADELAIDE PETERSON.

CHAPTER XIV.

The Flight of Reverend Selkirk.

There is a great deal said about the fatality of the wind of Boston Bay.
Even the native Bostonian dreads its icy touch, and when winter comes to
re-enforce its intensity, as many as can, seek warmer climes. A few
winters ago, among the many tourists who sought accommodations on a
train South-bound were Rev. Hiland Silkirk, wife and two children. Rev.
Silkirk's many years of ministerial work in the old cradle of liberty
had somewhat told upon his health, and he felt that a few months or
years in a warmer clime would result in the recovery of lost vigor. He
had purchased a ticket for Wilmington, N. C. The air there was mild,
bracing and dry and made health giving and mellow by the sweet odor of
the yellow pine. And then, again, a field was open for the continuance
of his work while he recuperated, a certain Baptist church in the old
city had called him to its pastorate. Being a man of exceptional
ability, affable and of sunny temperament, Rev. Hiland Silkirk was just
the man to win friends among Southern people, and he won them among both
white and black citizens in that old town. This is the case in every
Southern community. A Negro man of prominence can retain his popularity
on certain lines among the whites if he keeps out of politics and in all
race troubles remains neutral. But he cannot take this stand and be
universally loved. His reward will inevitably be the contempt of his own
race, which he cannot afford to engender. And no man who loves his
people