Wyeth was nodding in the office, when, about ten o'clock that night, he heard some one coming up the stair. From the way he halted at intervals, and set something down, he judged he must be carrying a load.

He was.

Presently the person reached the landing, and, halting again, dropped something heavy, then breathed long and deeply. A moment later, he heard him pick up whatever it was, and come on toward his door. It was burst open in a moment, and some one stumbled in behind a big package.

It was Slim. He dropped the package as soon as he was inside, with an air of disgust, and fell, apparently exhausted, into a chair. He was silent, while he got his breath. When this had become regular, he got up and moved to the desk, where he figured for some time. Wyeth remained silent, but quietly expectant. It came presently.

"Liars! Dirty liars! Stinking, low down, dirty lying n.i.g.g.as. d.a.m.n all of them, d.a.m.n them!"

Wyeth was still silent. Slim looked about himself wearily, and then did some more figuring. Presently Wyeth heard him again.

"Lying n.i.g.g.a's, o'nry n.i.g.g.a's, dog-gone the bunch!"

Wyeth was impatient. He wanted to ask very innocently what the matter was. Suddenly he saw Slim looking at him savagely. Wyeth made an effort to look innocent, and not burst out laughing. After awhile he heard Slim again.

"I'm done! I'm through selling books to Negroes _now_!" He then arose, and strode back and forth across the room in a terrible temper.

Wyeth started to say: "You mean you are through getting orders." But he waited.

"The first old n.i.g.g.a I come up to, looked up when he saw me, and then just laffed, 'ke-ha!' Then, when I held the book toward him, he said: 'Yu' betta' gwan 'way frum heh wi' dat book!' And then just laffed again, like it was something so funny. I got mad right then, but kept my temper and said:

"'What's the matter with you! Didn't you order this book from me two weeks ago?'" He paused at this stage, and looked at Wyeth again with a savage glare. "But that old devil just kept on laffing like a vaudeville show was before him, instead of me with the book he had ordered, and which he told me to be sure, _sure_ to bring today. My n.i.g.g.a was rising now; but just then I heard a little half-naked kid: 'Uh! Misteh! 'oo might's well ferget it. 'Cause th' ole man there,' pointing to the old sinner, 'orders sumpin' from eve' agent what comes 'long; puvidin' i'

do'n cos' nuthin' t' give th' odah.' And all the time that old c.o.o.n was just laffing, 'ke-ha!'" He gave Wyeth another glare, and went on:

"The next one I come onto looked at the book as though it was something dangerous. And then he squints up at me--I think he must have been near-sighted--and says: 'Sah, I decided since I give you that odah, that I wa'n't go'n' take th' book.' When he saw my eyes, he could see I was mad enough to kill him on the spot. He saw danger in them too, because, near-sighted or not, he began edging away, but again I held back my n.i.g.g.a and says: 'What in h.e.l.l you mean by making up your mind like that!'"

"He must have been drinking Sparrow Gin when he gave you that order,"

suggested Wyeth, with a twinkle of the eye.

"What?" inquired Slim, listening.

"I'd advise you to take along a little corn liquor the next time you go to deliver; pour a little juice into them; get them drunk. They'll take their books then."

Slim kicked a piece of paper on the floor before him viciously, and said: "I'll take along a club and knock their lying heads off their shoulders, 's what I'll do."

"Did you have enough books?" inquired Wyeth, ignoring the big package Slim had brought in.

"You seem possessed with no sympathy, Mr. Wyeth," he complained, and then grew thoughtful. Presently, seeming anxious to tell more of his experiences, he went on. "One woman I had an order from, when I knocked on the door, she opened it and said: 'I'm so sorry, but my husband won't let me take that book,' and then she handed me a nickel, saying, 'so I'm going to give you this for your trouble.' I could not, of course, be ugly, as much as I felt like it, but I had to say something. So I inquired, as kind as I could under the circ.u.mstances, 'What am I to do with this?' She looked distressed at first, then brightened with a thought, and replied, as though she were doing something wonderful: 'Why, you can use it for car fare. You won't have to walk back.'"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"_Shoo Fly_"

Wyeth had not been able, as yet, to awaken much literary interest among his people in the south, but he had a great many agents working all over the north. Of those he had secured in Dixie, he was deluged with complaints to the effect that so many people failed to take the books they ordered; so, he began shipping only fifteen when an agent sent in an order for thirty books. This worked better, and the office was not the recipient of so many complaints thereafter.

As for Slim, he went with the cook on Fourteenth Street, ate two meals there out of every three, and canva.s.sed whenever he felt so disposed. He had some cards made, only one hundred. Four hundred more would have cost but little additional. He handed them about, advertising that he would conduct a singing cla.s.s at his residence, beginning any time any one wished lessons. He was successful in delivering more books, when he returned to work among the domestics, but not so many that, at any time afterwards, was Wyeth put to such strenuous efforts to secure books, in order that he might have one for every customer.

When the colleges had closed for vacation, Wyeth hired the matron to work in the office, and, upon finding her very interesting, Slim became more in evidence about the office.

Just about this time, the auditorium was completed which was begun two years before, by the lodge of which B.J. d.i.c.kson was the secretary. It was decided to ask the head of Tuscola, the great Negro educator, to speak at the dedication services. He was secured, and this fact caused thousands to gather for the occasion. It gave Wyeth an opportunity to hear the noted Negro for the second time in his life, the first being twelve years before, in Chicago.

The day came at last. It rained in the forenoon, but was calm and clear in the afternoon. The night was fit, and the mammoth place was filled to overflowing, while thousands, unable to gain admittance, loafed outside, where they were entertained by a band, that served to keep them quiet.

For d.i.c.kson, fully acquainted with his own race, was aware that they would disturb the speaker, if some diversion was not resorted to, for their amus.e.m.e.nt.

The speaker looked very tired and worn, and Wyeth felt a pang at his heart when he saw him. His years of service were beginning to tell upon him. He had returned recently from the west, where he had gone for the purpose of raising $150,000 for his school, and had, as he did in everything else, succeeded beyond requirements. He was not only an educator, but a practical business man as well. To one who sat near him, Sidney Wyeth said that evening: "And no one of these odd ten millions is competent, in the public's favor, to take that old man's place, when eventually he will be called." The other sighed as he made reply: "There are many, though, who feel that they and not he should be in the confidence of the world, and have wasted themselves in uselessness and inactivity, as a result of their imagination." The speaker's eyes, at the distance Wyeth saw them, seemed dazed, and his voice was strained; but he did not soon forget the words he spoke to those black people, in dedication of an instant that had been inspired by his work. B.J.

d.i.c.kson came in for a worthy praise, which Wyeth knew he justly deserved.

It was some two weeks afterwards, that a convention was held, which brought together a cla.s.s of men, who were largely leaders of this race.

They were the doctors, the dentists, the pharmacists, and all men connected with physical and surgical dispensation; and they came from two adjoining states also. Sidney Wyeth had, therefore, opportunity to see his own people from a professional point of view, and was cheered to observe the most refined set of men of his own kin, that he had ever seen. d.i.c.kson thought so too, and wrote as much in _The Independent_, the following week; but he wrote of something else connected with the same men, and served to show Sidney Wyeth something he did not know, could not have believed; but d.i.c.kson made it plain to the thousands of readers of _The Independent_, of which Wyeth was a constant reader.

In the building, conspicuously located on the best corner, was a drug store, acknowledged to be the finest drug store operated by black people in the south. The new building included a street front on another side street, the drug store and many other trades on the ground s.p.a.ce, with a row of offices to the number of about twenty-five, especially fitted for physicians and dentists. All these encircled the auditorium, and were regarded as the most artistic arrangement in the building. Moreover, this was advantageous in many ways. At all events, it happened to be convenient for the men gathered on the occasion referred to. In addition to being used as a gathering place, this auditorium could be conveniently cleared for the purpose of dancing, and was employed for that purpose, on the night the convention closed. And this was what B.J.

d.i.c.kson wrote in the following week's issue of _The Independent_:

"COLOR LINE DRAWN AT THE PHYSICIAN'S BALL

"Last week there was held in Attalia, the annual convention of the Tri-State Medical a.s.sociation, as was stated in last week's issue of _The Independent_. Never before has this city been graced by a more refined, and obviously intelligent cla.s.s of colored men. From all over the state, and the two states adjoining, which are members of the league, came physicians, surgeons, dentists and pharmacists, representing the highest body of men in the Negro race. They were entertained in sumptuous splendor, by the same profession of men in Attalia. This was facilitated by the fact, that the new buildings and the auditorium were employed for the occasion, and the members were not compelled, as they had been in the past, to house their social function in some old deserted hall, in a deserted part of the city.

"It is, therefore, with deep regret, that we are called, by the bond of common sense and race appreciation, to mention a narrowness that pervaded this great occasion.

"It may be recalled, when the leader of our race spoke at the dedication, a few weeks past, that, on the committee were numerous doctors, some of them successful leaders, and some who were not.

Yet it is and always has been the custom of our people, to honor these men in the best way we can, for we have long since come to appreciate that they are a part, and an important part of this new dispensation. Surely it is in order and keeping with the uplift of black people, to help men whose training has fitted them for such an important place. That, perhaps, is why their conduct of last week has constrained us to make this mention.

"They drew the color line. Plainly, and irrevocably. At the ball, at the stag party, and during the entire proceedings of the convention. Not a black person save one--the wife of one of the local physicians who married her for money--was invited. Such an example shocks us, so to speak. It seems incredible, in view of the condition of our race, both morally and mentally. And still, though we have forced our pen to ignore it, it has been, and is shown, right along. At the ball, not only was the color line drawn, but a white orchestra gave the music. Imagine such a spectacle! In the bourbon and always democratic south, our people hiring a white orchestra, at a fabulous sum; for, since long before we were free, Negroes have made music for the richest white people to dance by.

"Surely the old order changeth!

"Negro doctors live by the patronage of their race, positively; the white people would not hire one to doctor a dog. In the dark ages, when it was felt that a Negro was incompetent for anything else but to act as a slave, some excuse could be given for Negroes to hire white doctors. But today, all race loving people give their practice to their own, except those who are nearly white, and wish they were. But more than half of those at the ball have white doctors, and wouldn't hire one of those with whom they danced. But Negro doctors expect Negro practice, and deplore it terribly when Negroes hire white physicians! On the heels of this, too, they say "Shoo fly!" to Negro musicians who are competent to play for the whites, but not for Negro doctors. Like everything else that relates to our people--except their money--our professionals wrinkle their faces, and conclude without trial, that no Negro orchestra is properly trained to play for their b.a.l.l.s; and Negroes who conduct newspapers do not know enough to write a part of what they read; books of Negro authors are not read by them, because they don't know enough--in the minds of these hypocrites--and so it goes in everything. They could not have held their convention in the white auditorium, even if permitted to, because that would have cost more than they were able to pay.

"Now, if Negro orchestras are incompetent as musicians and are, therefore, relegated to the rear, and a white orchestra is hired to give music, and if Negroes as authors and editors, do not know enough to write a part of what they should read, and, moreover, if Negroes who happen not to be the scion of some white man, and, therefore, possessed of a yellow face, are not good enough to mingle and a.s.sociate with them, then the Negro doctors are not fit to 'kill' us. Why not let the white man do this? Admitting that the white orchestra and the white editor and author have more advantages than do the Negroes in the same vocation, is it not credible that the same applies in regard to the doctors? Is it not to be appreciated that, while the white man, often and mostly the son of a rich parent, is taking a post-graduate course abroad, the poor Negro boy is slinging hash in a cheap hotel--most of the best ones hire white help now--to get the wherewith to go back and finish school?

"Oh, we have thought this brave in our people these many years, and our very hearts and souls and sympathies have been with them in this great effort!

"And we are repaid in these terms!

"The black-skinned people who pay them their hard-earned money, that we might have a representative set of men as our leaders, have been scorned for their pains!

"They, the doctors, set up what they silently look upon as society, "blue-veined people." How they must deplore that they are colored, in a literal sense! "We are the best people!" they cry. The insurance companies, started and led to their present position of success by black men, use every means, subtle and otherwise, to throw business to these men. Likewise do the lodges. And with all that, not more than a dozen or so are making a decent living in Attalia. We are still very poor people. Yet when society comes before us, the black ones are not good enough to play for. We must close. It makes us sick!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"_Why Do You Look At Me So Strangely?_"