or hung nakedly on human frames, the small, choked dwellings,
bursting open at doors and windows with black, round-eyed babies as an
overripe melon bursts with seeds, the children playing marbles in the
court, the parents playing cards in the room, the grandparents smoking
pipes on the porch, and the great-grandparents stairs gazing out at you
like creatures from the Old Testament or the jungle. From the jungle we
had stolen them, North and South had stolen them together, long ago, to
be slaves, not to be citizens, and now here they were, the fruits of
our theft; and for some reason (possibly the Teuton was the reason) that
passage from the Book of Exodus came into my head: "For I the Lord thy
God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the
children."

These thoughts were interrupted by sounds as of altercation. I had
nearly reached the end of the lane, where I should again emerge into the
White man's world, and where I was now walking the lane spread into a
broader space with ells and angles and rotting steps, and habitations
mostly too ruinous to be inhabited. It was from a sashless window in one
of these that the angry voices came. The first words which were distinct
aroused my interest quite beyond the scale of an ordinary altercation:--

"Calls you'self a reconstuckted niggah?"

This was said sharply and with prodigious scorn. The answer which it
brought was lengthy and of such a general sullen incoherence that I
could make out only a frequent repetition of "custom house," and that
somebody was going to take care of somebody hereafter.

Into this the first voice broke with tones of highest contempt and
rapidity:--

"President gwine to gib brekfus' an' dinnah an suppah to de likes ob
you fo' de whole remaindah oh youh wuthless nat'ral life? Get out ob my
sight, you reconstuckted niggah. I come out oh de St. Michael."

There came through the window immediately upon this sounds of scuffling
and of a fall, and then cries for help which took me running into the
dilapidated building. Daddy Ben lay on the floor, and a thick, young
savage was kicking him. In some remarkable way I thought of the solidity
of their heads, and before the assailant even knew that he had a
witness, I sped forward, aiming my kettle-supporter, and with its sharp
brass edge I dealt him a crack over his shin with astonishing accuracy.
It was a dismal howl that he gave, and as he turned he got from me
another crack upon the