d Aleck with judicial
deliberation, "what is you?"

"Des er ole-fashun all-wool-en-er-yard-wide nigger dat stan's by his ole
marster 'cause he's his bes' frien', stays at home, en tends ter his own
business."

"En yer pay no 'tenshun ter de orders I sent yer ter jine de League?"

"Na-sah. I ain't er takin' orders f'um er skeer-crow."

Aleck ignored his insolence, secure in his power.

"You doan b'long ter no s'iety, what yer git in dat line ter vote for?"

"Ain't I er nigger?"

"But yer ain't de right kin' er nigger. 'Res' dat man fer 'sturbin' de
peace."

They put Jake in jail, persuaded his wife to leave him, and expelled him
from the Baptist church, all within the week.

As the troopers led Jake to prison, a young negro apparently about fifteen
years old approached Aleck, holding in his hand one of the peddler's rat
labels, which had gotten well distributed among the crowd. A group of
negro boys followed him with these rat labels in their hands, studying
them intently.

"Look at dis ticket, Uncle Aleck," said the leader.

"Mr. Alexander Lenoir, sah--is I yo' uncle, nigger?"

The youth walled his eyes angrily.

"Den doan' you call me er nigger!"

"Who' yer talkin to, sah? You kin fling yer sass at white folks, but,
honey, yuse er projeckin' wid death now!"

"I ain't er nigger--I'se er gemman, I is," was the sullen answer.

"How ole is you?" asked Aleck in milder tones.

"Me mudder say sixteen--but de Buro man say I'se twenty-one yistiddy, de
day 'fo' 'lection."

"Is you voted to-day?"

"Yessah; vote in all de boxes 'cept'n dis one. Look at dat ticket. Is dat
de straight ticket?"

Aleck, who couldn't read the twelve-inch letters of his favourite bar-room
sign, took the rat label and examined it critically.

"What ail it?" he asked at length.

The boy pointed at the picture of the rat.

"What dat rat doin', lyin' dar on his back, wid his heels cocked up in de
air--'pear ter me lak a rat otter be standin' on his feet!"

Aleck reexamined it carefully, and then smiled benignly on the youth.

"De ignance er dese folks. What ud yer do widout er man lak me enjued wid
de sperit en de power ter splain tings?"

"You sho' got de sperits," said the boy impudently, touching a canteen.

Aleck ignored the remark and looked at the rat label smilingly.

"Ain't we er votin', ter-day, on de Constertooshun what's ter take de
ballot away f'um de white folks en gib all de power ter de cullud
gemmen--I axe