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Some scalawag whispers that General Grant desires to see the Negro uppermost in the State, his hands in White men's pockets, and his heels on White men's necks.
The Negroes and Mulattoes think these scalawags speak the truth.
Poor things!
they cannot read and write.
As children they were slaves.
Of politics and history they know less than the most stupid Suabian boor or Wiltshire clown.
Of moral codes and social sciences they have hardly an idea; but the poorest African in Georgia can see the difference between a cabin and a house, a full table and an empty one, a warm coat and a cotton rag, a place in the gutter and a seat in the legislative hall.
“Look,” cry the scalawags, “ at Louisiana and Mississippi!
There you have Negro sheriffs and assessors, judges and legislators.
In New Orleans and Jackson you have Negro Senators, Negro Lieutenant-governors, and Federal armies keeping down the Whites.
Louisiana sends Pinchback, Mississippi sends Rush, to represent the coloured people in the national Capitol!
Why not unite and carry your own candidates?”
Fired by such visions Sam begins to dream of running for the State legislature.
If not so lucky as
1875.
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