Oneendofthelog wasalreadyoccupiedbyavenerable-looking coloredman.Heheldonhiskneesahatfullofgrapes,overwhichhewassmacking hislipswithgreatgusto,andapileofgrape-skinsnearhimindicatedthattheperformancewasnonewthing.Herespectfullyroseasweapproached,andwasmoving away,whenIbeggedhimtokeephisseat.“Don'tletusdisturbyou,"Isaid."There'splentyofroomforusall

Abouttenyearsagomywifewasinpoorhealth,andourfamilydoctor,inwhoseskillandhonestyIhadimplicitconfidence,advisedachangeofclimate.

The first is African music, the second Afro-American, while the third is a blending of Negro music with the music heard in the foster land.

-songs of undoubted Negro origin

And then they taught him to sing, and when once the glory of the Jubilee songs passed into the soul of George L. White, he knew his life-work was to let those Negroes sing to the world as they had sung to him

heir appearance was uncouth, their language funny, but their hearts were human and their singing stirred men with a mighty power.

t has been neglected, it has been, and is half despised, and above all it has been persistently mistaken and misunderstood; but notwithstanding, it still remains as the singular spiritual heritage of the nation and the greatest gift of the Negro people.

And so by fateful chance the Negro folk-song--rhythmic cry of the slave--stands to-day not simply as the sole American music, but as the most beautiful expression of human experience born this side the seas.

  THEY that walked in darkness sang songs in the olden days--Sorrow Songs--for they were weary at heart. And so before each thought that I have written in this book I have set a phrase, a haunting echo of these weird old songs in which the soul of the black slave spoke to men. Ever since I was a child these songs have stirred me strangely.

Thus sadly musing, I rode to Nashville in the Jim Crow car.

The dwellings were scattered rather aimlessly, but they centred about the twin temples of the hamlet, the Methodist, and the Hard-Shell Baptist churches. These, in turn, leaned gingerly on a sad-colored schoolhouse. Hither my little world wended its crooked way on Sunday to meet other worlds, and gossip, and wonder, and make the weekly sacrifice with frenzied priest at the altar of the "old-time religion." Then the soft melody and mighty cadences of Negro song fluttered and thundered.

Then the father, who worked Colonel Wheeler's farm on shares, would tell me how the crops needed the boys; and the thin, slovenly mother, whose face was pretty when washed, assured me that Lugene must mind the baby.

fell the awful shadow of the Veil,

 Next morning I crossed the tall round hill, lingered to look at the blue and yellow mountains stretching toward the Carolinas, then plunged into the wood, and came out at Josie's home

half-truth

Such men feel in conscience bound to ask of this nation three things: 1. The right to vote. 2. Civic equality. 3. The education of youth according to ability.

First, political power, Second, insistence on civil rights, Third, higher education of Negro youth,--

In the history of nearly all other races and peoples the doctrine preached at such crises has been that manly self-respect is worth more than lands and houses, and that a people who Page 51 voluntarily surrender such respect, or cease striving for it, are not worth civilizing.

 Next to this achievement comes Mr. Washington's work in gaining place and consideration in the North. Others less shrewd and tactful had formerly essayed to sit on these two stools and had fallen between them; but as Mr. Washington knew the heart of the South from birth and training, so by singular insight he intuitively grasped the spirit of the age which was dominating the North. And so thoroughly did he learn the speech and thought of triumphant commercialism, and the ideals of material prosperity, that the picture of a lone black boy poring over a French grammar amid the weeds and dirt of a neglected home soon seemed to him the acme of absurdities.

"In all things purely social we can be as separate as the five fingers, and yet one as the hand in all things essential to mutual progress." This "Atlanta Compromise" is by all odds the most notable thing in Mr. Washington's career.

Emancipation to the youth with dawning self-consciousness, self-realization, self-respect. In those sombre forests of his striving his own soul rose before him, and he saw himself,--darkly as through a veil; and yet he saw in himself some faint revelation of his power, of his mission. He began to have a dim feeling that, to attain his place in the world, he must be himself, and not another. For the first time he sought to analyze the burden he bore upon his back, that dead-weight of social degradation partially masked behind a half-named Negro problem. He felt his poverty; without a cent, without a home, without land, tools, or savings, he had entered into competition with rich, landed, skilled neighbors. To be a poor man is hard, but to be a poor race in a land of dollars is the very bottom of hardships. He felt the weight of his ignorance,--not simply of letters, but of life, of Page 9 business, of the humanities; the accumulated sloth and shirking and awkwardness of decades and centuries shackled his hands and feet. Nor was his burden all poverty and ignorance. The red stain of bastardy, which two centuries of systematic legal defilement of Negro women had stamped upon his race, meant not only the loss of ancient African chastity, but also the hereditary weight of a mass of corruption from white adulterers, threatening almost the obliteration of the Negro home.

being a problem

They approach me in a half-hesitant sort of way, eye me curiously or compassionately, and then, instead of saying directly, How does it feel to be a problem? they say, I know an excellent Page 2 colored man in my town; or, I fought at Mechanicsville; or, Do not these Southern outrages make your blood boil? At these I smile, or am interested, or reduce the boiling to a simmer, as the occasion may require. To the real question, How does it feel to be a problem? I answer seldom a word.

Had it occurred in the wilds of interior Africa, there would have been an outcry from the humane people of this country against the savagery which would so mercilessly put men and women to death

add this measure of proof to maintain our contention that it is only necessary to charge a Negro with a crime in order to secure his certain death.

It tells the world, with perhaps greater emphasis than any other feature of the record, that Lynch Law has become so common in the United States that the finding of the dead body of a Negro, suspended between heaven and earth to the limb of a tree, is of so slight importance that neither the civil authorities nor press agencies consider the matter worth investigating.

To keep up the flagging spirits of the dense crowd around the jail, the rumor went out more than once, that Miller had confessed. But the solemn assurance of the minister, chief-of-police, and leading editor—who were with Miller all along—is that this rumor is absolutely false.

The entire system of the judiciary of this country is in the hands of white people.

After burning the feet and legs, the hot irons—plenty of fresh ones being at hand—were rolled up and down Smith's stomach, back, and arms. Then the eyes were burned out and irons were thrust down his throat.

"First outraged with demoniacal cruelty and then taken by her heels and torn asunder in the mad wantonness of gorilla ferocity."

True chivalry respects all womanhood, and no one who reads the record, as it is written in the faces of the million mulattoes in the South, will for a minute conceive that the southern white man had a very chivalrous regard for the honor due the women of his own race or respect for the womanhood which circumstances placed in his power.

It was to his interest to dwarf the soul and preserve the body

her face turned to the East,

his entire inheritance woman died, leaving to Georges, her portrait of the boy's father.

They threw themselves into each others arms. ey Alf d' t h h · trance to re s proper y. when the carriage passed throug t e mam en .. Th ·t· 'What's this I see ' he shouted, uncmlmg an e overseer was wa1 1ng. · · · ' , k · · th · · h l · d h' belt· Jacques 1ss1ng e new immense whip that e a ways carne on IS , • . · Wh · t· ence'' With this lashes began arnval before my very eyes. . . . at imper m · . , . ,, to fall on the unhappy man, and spurts of blood leaped from his face.

He was betrayed by the treachery of his own people, and died a martyr to freedom

"'Well, chilern, whar dar is so much racket dar must be somethmg out o kilter. I tink dat 'twixt de niggers of de Souf and ·de women at de N orf all a talkin' 'bout rights, de white men will he in a fix pretty soon. But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout? Oat man oher dar say dat women needs to be helped into carriages, and lifted oher ditches, and to have de best place every whar. Nobody eher help me into carriages, or ober mud puddles, or gives me any best place [and raising herself to her full height and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked], and ar'n't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! [And she hared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremendous muscular power.] I have plowed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me-and ar'n't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man (when I could get it), and bear de lash as well-and ar'n't I a woman? I have borne thirteen chilern and seen 'em mos' all sold off into slavery, and when I cried out with a mother's grief, none but Jesus heard-and ar'n't I a woman? Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head-what dis dey call it?' 'Intellect,' whispered some one near. 'Oat's it honey. What's dat got to do with women's rights or niggers' rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint and yourn holds a quart, would n't ye be mean not to let me have my little half-measure full?' And she pointed her significant finger and sent a keen glance at the minister who had made the argument. The cheering was long and loud.

Don't let her speak, Mrs. Gage, it will ruin us. Every newspaper in the land will have our cause mixed \ivith abolition and niggers, and we shall be utterly denounced.'

5: Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies, Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies: The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays, On ev'ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays; Harmonious lays the feather'd race resume,

Ye shady groves, your verdant gloom display To shield your poet from the burning day: Calliope awake the sacred lyre, While thy fair sisters fan the pleasing fire: 15: The bow'rs, the gales, the variegated skies In all their pleasures in my bosom rise.

See in the east th' illustrious king of day!

I believe there are few events in my life, which have not happened to many: it is true the incidents of it are numerous; and, did I consider myself an European, Page 3 I might say my sufferings were great: but when I compare my lot with that of most of my countrymen, I regard myself as a particular favourite of Heaven