The Leopard's Spots

lding, but it was built by the generosity of one of their dead members. There were four Presbyterian families in town, and they were working desperately to build a church. The Bap

gatherings in the county. On Sunday mornings everybody who could walk, young and old,

snap and a jerk that smashed the clapper against the side in a stroke that spoke defiance to all rival bells, warning of everlasting f

l boys accompanying their mothers were to be seen on the woman’s side, toge

weather. The services over the men lingered in the yard to shake hands with neighbours, praise or criticise the sermon, and once more discuss great events. The boys gathe

f the old hymns of Zion, the Reading of the Bible, th

the slaves were freed, and society was torn from the foundations of centuries, but you would never have known it from the lips of the Rev. John Durham in his pulpit. These things w

, from whose letters he could compose the most impassioned message to the individual hearer before him. Its literature, its poetic fire, the epic sweep of the Old Testament record of life, were inwrought into the very fibre of his soul. As a preacher he spoke with authority. He was narrow an

before him, realise as his own their sins and sorrows, their burdens and hopes and dreams and fears, and then, when he had made them his own, he could give them the wings of deathless words and carry them up to the heart of

they were growing fewer. Some new and mysterious power was at work among the negroes, sowing the seeds of distrust and suspicion. He wondered what it could be. He had always loved to preach to these simple hearted children

is desertion of his church by the negroes

gallery stairs leading Charlie Gaston by the hand, after the church had been

ur Mistre

Lawd. Eve she stay wid er dis mornin’, while I f

r folks who used to fil

aint heard about dem?”

’t heard, and

preach fur ’em. He ’low he got er call, en he stan’ up dar en holler fur ’em bout er hour ev’ry Sunday mawnin’ en night. En sech whoopin’, en yellin’, en bawlin’! Yer can hear ’em er mile. Dey tries ter git me ter go. I tell ’em, Marse John Durham’s preach-in’s good ernuf fur me, gall’ry er no gall’ry. I tell ’em dat I spec e

this,” said the Pre

gitten madder’n madder et me all de time case I stay at de ole place en wuk fer my po’ sick Mistus. Dey sen’ er Kermittee ter see me

be caref

his skull er little ter show ’im what I gwine

en back to se

er me. En I sont ’em back word ter sen Mr. Buro right on en I land ’im

t the Freedman’s

got ter do wid

tions between the Negro and the white man. They can prohibit you from working for a wh

, or dere’ll be trouble in dis

o me if you get into trouble with them,

med proud of his association in the church with the whites, and the position of inferiority assigned him in no sense disturbed his pride. He

e! I’ll make ’em see de seben stars i