it now. They have
brought down as a heritage from the days of their bondage both fear and
disloyalty. So Berry was unbefriended while the storm raged around him.
The cell where they had placed him was kind to him, and he could not
hear the envious and sneering comments that went on about him. This was
kind, for the tongues of his enemies were not.

"Tell me, tell me," said one, "you need n't tell me dat a bird kin fly
so high dat he don' have to come down some time. An' w'en he do light,
honey, my Lawd, how he flop!"

"Mistah Rich Niggah," said another. "He wanted to dress his wife an'
chillen lak white folks, did he? Well, he foun' out, he foun' out. By de
time de jedge git thoo wid him he won't be hol'in' his haid so high."

"Wy, dat gal o' his'n," broke in old Isaac Brown indignantly, "w'y, she
would n' speak to my gal, Minty, when she met huh on de street. I reckon
she come down off'n huh high hoss now."

The fact of the matter was that Minty Brown was no better than she
should have been, and did not deserve to be spoken to. But none of this
was taken into account either by the speaker or the hearers. The man was
down, it was time to strike.

The women too joined their shrill voices to the general cry, and were
loud in their abuse of the Hamiltons and in disparagement of their
high-toned airs.

"I knowed it, I knowed it," mumbled one old crone, rolling her bleared
and jealous eyes with glee. "W'enevah you see niggahs gittin' so high
dat dey own folks ain' good enough fu' 'em, look out."

"W'y, la, Aunt Chloe I knowed it too. Dem people got so owdacious proud
dat dey would n't walk up to de collection table no mo' at chu'ch, but
allus set an' waited twell de basket was passed erroun'."

"Hit 's de livin' trufe, an' I 's been seein' it all 'long. I ain't said
nuffin', but I knowed what 'uz gwine to happen. Ol' Chloe ain't lived
all dese yeahs fu' nuffin', an' ef she got de gif' o' secon' sight, 't
ain't fu' huh to say."

The women suddenly became interested in this half assertion, and the old
hag, seeing that she had made the desired impression, lapsed into
silence.

The whites were not neglecting to review and comment on the case also.
It had been long since so great a bit of wrong-doing in a negro had
given them cause for speculation and recrimination.

"I tell you," said old Horace Talbot, who was noted for his kindliness
towards people of colour, "I tell you, I pity that darky more than I
blame him.