hite man
struck you, you could not return the blow, and you could not testify
against him in a court of justice. You are black, my lad, and you are
not free. Did you ever hear of the Dred Scott decision, delivered by
the great, wise, and learned Judge Taney?"

"No, sir," answered the boy.

"It is too long to read," rejoined the judge, taking up the pamphlet he
had laid down upon the lad's entrance, "but it says in substance, as
quoted by this author, that negroes are beings 'of an inferior order,
and altogether unfit to associate with the white race, either in social
or political relations; in fact, so inferior that they have no rights
which the white man is bound to respect, and that the negro may justly
and lawfully be reduced to slavery for his benefit.' That is the law
of this nation, and that is the reason why you cannot be a lawyer."

"It may all be true," replied the boy, "but it don't apply to me. It
says 'the negro.' A negro is black; I am white, and not black."

"Black as ink, my lad," returned the lawyer, shaking his head. "'One
touch of nature makes the whole world kin,' says the poet. Somewhere,
sometime, you had a black ancestor. One drop of black blood makes the
whole man black."

"Why shouldn't it be the other way, if the white blood is so much
superior?" inquired the lad.

"Because it is more convenient as it is--and more profitable."

"It is not right," maintained the lad.

"God bless me!" exclaimed the old gentleman, "he is invading the field
of ethics! He will be questioning the righteousness of slavery next!
I'm afraid you wouldn't make a good lawyer, in any event. Lawyers go
by the laws--they abide by the accomplished fact; to them, whatever is,
is right. The laws do not permit men of color to practice law, and
public sentiment would not allow one of them to study it."

"I had thought," said the lad, "that I might pass for white. There are
white people darker than I am."

"Ah, well, that is another matter; but"--

The judge stopped for a moment, struck by the absurdity of his arguing
such a question with a mulatto boy. He really must be falling into
premature dotage. The proper thing would be to rebuke the lad for his
presumption and advise him to learn to take care of horses, or make
boots, or lay bricks. But again he saw his old friend in the lad's
face, and again he looked in vain for any sign of negro blood. The
least earmark would have turned the scale, but he could