J. Poindexter, ColoredCobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
General
J. Poindexter, Colored
Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
African Americans -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
With regards to him I'm going mainly on the facts that he's like a lot
of these here Northerners which ain't never been down South to speak of,
and is therefore got curious ideas about the South in general. Long time
before this I has took note that he thinks a colored person naturally
enjoys being called "a dam black rabbit" or "a worthless black
scoundrel" whilst he's waiting on white folks. Also, he can't seem to
get over my failing to say "Yas, Massa" and "No, Massa" when Mr. Dallas
asks me a question; and I can tell he's kind of put out because I don't
go round speaking of myself as "dis nigga" this and "dis nigga" that and
"dis nigga" the other thing. In other words, I ain't living up to the
character of the imaginary kind of a Southern-raised black man, which
he's been led to expect I'd be from reading some of these here foolish
writings which they gets out up here from time to time.
I knows full well what his sensations is in these matters, not only from
the look on his face, but from one or two things which I has overheard
him saying in times past. So now I just puts two and two together, and I
says to myself that if he's entertaining them misled ideas about my
race, he doubtless is also got the notion in his head that every quality
white gentleman from down South, and more especially them which hails
from Kentucky, totes a pistol on the flank and is forever looking for a
chance to massacrete somebody against which he's took a disfancy. I
remembers now that he asked me once how many feuds there was going on in
our part of the state at the present time. Rather than disappoint him, I
tells him several small ones and one large one. And another time he
wants to know from me whether they ever tried anybody in earnest for
shooting somebody down our way. Secretively, at the time, I pities his
ignorance, but I ain't undertaking to wean him from his delusions,
because if that's his way of thinking it ain't beholden on me to try to
educate him different. Looking back on it now, I'm mighty glad I didn't
try neither, because in the arose situation I figures that his
prevailing beliefs is going to fall right in with my plans.
Inside of half an hour I is through with him and ready to tackle the
other matter, which is a harder one, any way you look at it. I takes my
head in both my hands and I says to myself: What kind of a lady is this
here one we got to deal with? With her raisings, what does she probably
like the best in the world? What does she probably hate the most in the
world? What would scare her off and what would make her mad, and what is
it would probably only just egg her on? What would she shy from, and
what would she jump at? Where would she be reckless, and where would she
be careful? And so on and so forth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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