"'Exhibit number three,' said I to these northern philanthropists,
'is our late distinguished fellow citizen, Abednego Shadrach Jones.
He was our county clerk down here a while back. 'Nego, who paid the
taxes, time you was clerk?' He was right uncomfortable. 'Why, boss,'
said he, 'you paid most of 'um, you an' the white folks in heah. No
niggah man had nothin' to pay taxes on.'

"'You know that we white folks had to pay for the schools and
bridges, and the county buildings--had to pay salaries--had to pay
the county clerk and the janitor--had to pay everything?' I said to
him. 'Yassah,' said Nego.

"'You were elected legally, and we white folks couldn't out-vote you,
nohow?' 'Yassah,' said he. 'I s'pose we wus all 'lected legal 'nough.
I dunno rightly, but dey all done tol' me dat wuz so.'

"'Nego,' said I, 'step up here to your boss' desk and write your
name, just like you do when I give you credit for a bale of cotton.'
Nego he steps up and he makes a mark, and a mighty poor mark at that.
'You can go,' I said to him.

"'Now, gentlemen,' said I to them, 'do you want exhibits number four
and five and six?' And they allowed they didn't.

"There was one fellow in the lot who stepped up to me and took my
hand. He was a Federal colonel in the war, but he said to me,
'Colonel Blount, I beg your pardon. You have made this plainer to me
than I ever saw it before. It would be the ruin of this country if
you gave over the control of your homes and property and let them be