red people to vote the
temperance ticket?"
"Yes, but some ob de culled people gits mighty skittish ef dey tries to
git em to vote dare ticket 'lection time, an' keeps dem at a proper
distance wen de 'lection's ober. Some ob dem say dere's a trick behine
it, an' don't want to tech it. Dese white folks could do a heap wid de
culled folks ef dey'd only treat em right."
"When our people say there is a trick behind it," said Robert, "I only
wish they could see the trick before it--the trick of worse than wasting
their money, and of keeping themselves and families poorer and more
ignorant than there is any need for them to be."
"Well, Bobby, I beliebs we might be a people ef it warn't for dat
mizzable drink. An' Robby, I jis' tells yer what I wants; I wants some
libe man to come down yere an' splain things ter dese people. I don't
mean a politic man, but a man who'll larn dese people how to bring up
dere chillen, to keep our gals straight, an' our boys from runnin' in de
saloons an' gamblin' dens."
"Don't your preachers do that?" asked Robert.
"Well, some ob dem does, an' some ob dem doesn't. An' wen dey preaches,
I want dem to practice wat dey preach. Some ob dem says dey's called,
but I jis' thinks laziness called some ob dem. An' I thinks since
freedom come deres some mighty pore sticks set up for preachers. Now
dere's John Anderson, Tom's brudder; you 'member Tom."
"Yes; as brave a fellow and as honest as ever stepped in shoe leather."
"Well, his brudder war mighty diffrent. He war down in de lower kentry
wen de war war ober. He war mighty smart, an' had a good head-piece, an'
a orful glib tongue. He set up store an' sole whisky, an' made a lot ob
money. Den he wanted ter go to de legislatur. Now what should he do but
make out he'd got 'ligion, an' war called to preach. He had no more
'ligion dan my ole dorg. But he had money an' built a meetin' house,
whar he could hole meeting, an' hab funerals; an' you know cullud folks
is mighty great on funerals. Well dat jis' tuck wid de people, an' he
got 'lected to de legislatur. Den he got a fine house, an' his ole wife
warn't good 'nuff for him. Den dere war a young school-teacher, an' he
begun cuttin' his eyes at her. But she war as deep in de mud as he war
in de mire, an' he jis' gib up his ole wife and married her, a fusty
thing. He war a mean ole hypocrit, an' I wouldn't sen' fer him to bury
my cat. Robby, I'se down on dese kine ob preachers like a thousand
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