"The records of valor decay",

it is a most notable publication, quite worthy to be draped in the robes
that distinguishes History from narrative; from "a tale that is told"; a
story for the entertainment of the moment.

AS INTERPOLATED--

By the writers of its text; read between the lines of their written
words; it is a History; not alone of the American Negro on the "tented
field"; the bloody trenches of France and Belgium, it is also a History
and an arraignment, a warning and a prophecy, looking backwards and
forward, the Negro being the objective focus, of many things.

IT PRESENTS--

For the readers retrospection, as vividly as painted on a canvas, a
phantasmagoric procession of past events, and of those to come in the
travail of the Negro; commencing with the sailing of the first "Slaver's
Ship" for the shores of the "New World", jammed fore and aft, from deck
to hold, with its cargo of human beings, to the conclusion of the great
war in which, individually and in units he wrote his name in
imperishable characters, and high on the scroll on which are inscribed
the story of those, who, in their lives wrought for RIGHT and, passing,
died for MEN! For a flag; beneath and within its folds his welcome has
been measured and parsimonious;--a country; the construing and
application of its laws and remedies as applied to him, has inflicted
intolerable INJUSTICE: Has persecuted more often than blessed. And so
and thus, its perusal finished, its pages closed and laid aside, you are
shaken and swayed in your feelings, even as a tree, bent and riven
before the march and sweep of a mighty hurricane.

* * * * *

LOOKING BACKWARDS--

The spell of the book strong upon you, you see in your mind's eye,
thousands of plantations covering a fourth of a continent of a new and
virgin land. The toilers "Black Folk"; men, women and children--SLAVES!

* * * * *

YOU HEAR--

The crack of the "driver's" lash; the sullen bay of pursuing hounds.

* * * * *

JUST OVER YONDER--

Is the "Auction Block". You hear the moans and screams of mothers torn
from their offspring. You see them driven away, herded like cattle,
chained like convicts, sold to "master's" in the "low lands", to toil--

"Midst the cotton and the cane."

YOU LISTEN--

Sounding far off, faint at first, growing louder each second, you hear
the beat of drums; the bu