situation, the President has the power to send in the troops," said Mrs.
Cole. "Yes, but will he use that power? I don't believe McKinley is
going to do anything to offend the Southern whites if they kill every
Negro in the South. The interests of an alien race are too trivial to
risk the sundering of the ties that are supposed by the North to bind
the two sections. Each State according to the Southern view, is a
sovereignty itself, and can kill and murder its inhabitants with
impunity. There is no John Brown, Beecher, nor Sumner, nor Douglass,
Garrison, Phillips and others of that undaunted host who were willing
and did risk persecution and death for us; this generation has not
produced such precious characters. God is our only helper and we must
look to Him for deliverance. We are living too well for the broken down
aristocrats and poor whites who are disappointed because we are not all
domestics.

"Molly expresses her intention to call, and I was hoping she would come
before you all left. Perhaps you know Molly Pierrepont, for a woman of
her reputation cannot help being known to a small community; but you are
not all aware of the fact that I raised her, and took special pains to
give her a good education, and I thought she'd requite me by trying to
lead a useful life." "But you know Mrs. West, that Negro girls of
attractiveness in the South have a great battle to fight, if they wish
to be pure," said Mrs. Wise. "That's very true" answered Mrs. West; "I
have often pondered over the thought since she left me five years ago,
that the conditions under which she was born may have had something to
do with shaping her course in life. We, innocent as we may be, must
suffer for the iniquities of our parents. Before the war, there lived in
Brunswick a large slave owner by name of Philpot. He was the father of
Molly's mother, one of his slaves. After the surrender, this woman did
not leave the plantation of her master but remained there until her
death. The child, Molly's mother, whose name was Eliza, at the time of
her mother's death was a pretty lass of fourteen; so attractive that the
father then an old man could not curb his brutal passion. It is needless
for me to speak plainer ladies. There is a passage of Scripture which
reads as follows: 'The dog has returned to his vomit, and the sow that
was washed is wallowing in the mire.' The young mother brought the child
to Wilmington, gave her to me, and disappeared. Molly was th