hnson, did I?"

"Oh, yes, suh," replied the porter, "I never doubted but what you'd
keep your word. But you see, suh, they were too many for you. There
ain't no one man can stop them folks down there when they once get
started."

"And what are you doing here, Taylor?"

"Well, suh, the fact is that after you went away, it got out somehow
that I had told on Bud Johnson. I don't know how they learned it, and
of course I knew you didn't tell it; but somebody must have seen me
going to your house, or else some of my enemies guessed it--and
happened to guess right--and after that the coloured folks wouldn't
send their children to me, and I lost my job, and wasn't able to get
another anywhere in the State. The folks said I was an enemy of my
race, and, what was more important to me, I found that my race was an
enemy to me. So I got out, suh, and I came No'th, hoping to find
somethin' better. This is the best job I've struck yet, but I'm hoping
that sometime or other I'll find something worth while."

"And what became of the industrial school project?" asked the colonel.
"I've stood ready to keep my promise, and more, but I never heard from
you."

"Well, suh, after you went away the enthusiasm kind of died out, and
some of the white folks throwed cold water on it, and it fell through,
suh."

When the porter came along, before the train reached Chicago, the
colonel offered Taylor a handsome tip.

"Thank you, suh," said the porter, "but I'd rather not take it. I'm a
porter now, but I wa'n't always one, and hope I won't always be one.
And during all the time I taught school in Clarendon, you was the only
white man that ever treated me quite like a man--and our folks just
like people--and if you won't think I'm presuming, I'd rather not take
the money."

The colonel shook hands with him, and took his address. Shortly
afterward he was able to find him something better than menial
employment, where his education would give him an opportunity for
advancement. Taylor is fully convinced that his people will never get
very far along in the world without the good will of the white people,
but he is still wondering how they will secure it. For he regards
Colonel French as an extremely fortunate accident.

* * * * *

And so the colonel faltered, and, having put his hand to the plow,
turned back. But was not his, after all, the only way? For no more now
than when the Man of Sorrows looked out over