Tails, Chick, Bantam, Stork, Worm,
Snake, and Maggot indicate the simple origin of many names. There were
many strange combinations of Christian names and surnames: Peter
Wentup, Christy Forgot, Unity Bachelor, Booze Still, Cutlip Hoof, and
Wanton Bump left little to the imagination.]

[Footnote 4: These tables and those on the pages immediately following
are taken from _A Century of Population Growth_, issued by the United
States Census Bureau in 1908.]

[Footnote 5: _The Scotch-Irish in America_ pp. 219-20.]

[Footnote 6: See _The Century Magazine_, September, 1891, and Lodge's
_Historical and Political Essays_, 1892.]

CHAPTER III

THE NEGRO

Not many years ago a traveler was lured into a London music hall by
the sign: _Spirited American Singing and Dancing_. He saw on the stage
a sextette of black-faced comedians, singing darky ragtime to the
accompaniment of banjo and bones, dancing the clog and the cakewalk,
and reciting negro stories with the familiar accent and smile, all to
the evident delight of the audience. The man in the seat next to him
remarked, "These Americans are really lively." Not only in England,
but on the continent, the negro's melodies, his dialect, and his
banjo, have always been identified with America. Even Americans do not
at once think of the negro as a foreigner, so accustomed have they
become to his presence, to his quaint mythology, his soft accent, and
his genial and accommodating nature. He was to be found in every
colony before the Revolution; he was an integral part of American
economic life long before the great Irish and German immigrations,
and, while in the mass he is confined to the South, he is found today
in every State in the Union.

The negro, however, is racially the most distinctly foreign element in
America. He belongs to a period of biological and racial evolution far
removed from that of the white man. His habitat is the continent of
the elephant and the lion, the mango and the palm, while that of the
race into whose state he has been thrust is the continent of the horse
and the cow, of wheat and the oak.

There is a touch of the dramatic in every phase of the negro's contact
with America: his unwilling coming, his forcible detention, his final
submission, his emancipation, his struggle to adapt himself to
freedom, his futile competition with a superior economic order. Every
step from the kidnaping, through "the voiceless woe of servitude" and
the atte