Nothing at first struck me
with greater wonder at the South than to see the most fashionably
dressed ladies in the most public streets stop to help a black woman
with a burden on her head, if she needed assistance, or to hold a gate
open for a man with a wheelbarrow.
One white boy cried to another across a street, "Come along, it's most
time to be in school." The other answered, in a petulant tone, "I a'n't
going to school." A tall, white-headed negro was passing; his black
surtout nearly touched the ground; he had on his arm a very nice
market-basket, covered with a snow-white napkin, and in his right hand a
long cane. Hearing what the last boy said, he came to a full stand, put
down his basket, clasped his long cane with both hands, and brought it
down on the brick sidewalk with three quick raps, and then a rap at each
of these points of admiration: "What! what! what!" said he, drawing
himself up to express surprise, and calling out with magisterial voice;
"Go to school! my son! go to school! and larn! a heap!" the cane making
emphasis at every expression. The white boy retreated under the
impression of a well-deserved, though kind, rebuke. He did not call the
old man "nigger," nor in any way insult him.
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