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[107] Having got his papers signed, Pinch whips up his satchel, sticks a fresh quid in his mouth, and leaves the room with Antoine, the two Negroes going out arm in arm, strutting and sniggering through admiring crowds. “Dat Nig is sole,” one fellow cries. “You bet?” asks another. “Golly,” says a third, “ dat Nig is ole Pinch!” And so the dusky hero vanishes from our sight.

“It is a farce,” says Governor Kellogg. “Pinchback is no more senator now than he was before. He goes on a fool's errand, but these coloured children must be humoured. When he reaches Washington they will find out their mistake.”

Governor Kellogg is courteous, grave, and self-possessed. It is a common saying that he lives on lies. A friend who met me in Canal Street said: “Going to see Kellogg? Let me warn you that the man you are going to see is a wonder. He's not afraid. All the Federal troops in New Orleans could not make him tell the truth.” Governor Kellogg has a smooth and winning way, which enemies may describe as wheedling and deceptive; but his eyes look honestly into your face, and his tone of voice is frank and earnest. He appears to me a stirring and

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