party; they refuse to let the negro vote with them, but they force him
upon us. They don't do it out of regard to the negro, but only to spite
us.' I don't think, Minnie, that I am much given to gloomy forebodings,
but I see from the temper and actions of these rebels, that they are
encouraged and emboldened by these tidings from the North, and to-day
they are turning people out of work for voting the radical ticket. A
while ago they tried flattery and cajolery. You could hear it on almost
every side--'We are the best friends of the colored people.' Appeals
were made to the memories of the past; how they hunted and played
together, and searched for birds' nests in the rotten peach trees, and
when the colored people were not to be caught by such chaff, some were
trying to force them into submission by intimidation and starvation."

Just then a knock was heard at the door, and a dark man entered. There
was nothing in his appearance that showed any connection with the white
race. There was a tone of hopefulness in his speech, though his face
wore a somewhat anxious expression.

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson," said Louis, for, in deference to their
feelings he had dropped the "aunt" and "uncle" of bygone days.

"Good morning," replied the man, while a pleasant smile flitted over his
countenance.

"How does the world use you?" said Louis.

"Well, times are rather bilious with me, but I am beginning to pick up a
little. I get a few boots and shoes to mend. I always used to go to the
mountains, and get plenty of work to do; but this year they wouldn't
give me the situation because I had joined the radicals."