"Huh,-bless-God,-yes. My-people-are-black, yet,-as-I-have-made-plain,- they-like-yellow folks. You-are-not-exactly-yellow;-you-are-a pretty- brown-skin,-a-mighty-pretty-brown-skin. I-really-think-what-makes-blue- veiners-so-aristocratic-is-that-we-blacks-like-them,-the-white folks- like-them,-and-they-like-themselves;-leaving-nobody-to-like-us-blacks. If-we-ever-turn-to liking-black-faces-it-will-only-be-after-the whites- turn-that-way. The-whites-regulate-all of-our-tastes-even-to-telling-us- who-are-our greatest-men-among-us. We-just-won't-acknowledge-a-man-is- great-until-the-whites-have done-so. Our-slave-mammies-had-no-thought from-morning-till-night,-year-in-and-year-out, except-the-thought-of- pleasing-master-and mistress. I-guess-that-is-how-doing-everything to-please-white-people-became-ingrained-in-our nature. You-will-know- more-about-this-when you-get-to-be-a-married-woman-like-I-am,-huh, huh. "Good-day,-Miss-Wysong,-good-day,-I-see you-are-restless-and-tired-of- an-old-man's-gab. Remember-that-I-have-not-promised-you-that-I would-not- be-a-D.-D. My-plans-are-all-laid. Remember-you-are-to-join-my-church. Good day. I-did-not-promise-that-I-would-not-be-no D.-D.,-huh,-huh-huh." Bowing and grinning and grunting, Rev. Josiah Nerve, D. D. S., backed out of the door and out of the gate, and, hat in hand, went strutting proudly down the street, not forgetting that in walking, his feet should come up a little higher from the ground than do the feet of plain every day human beings. Poor deluded soul, contented to grasp with a death clutch at the _shadow_ of Anglo-Saxon civilization. His brethren are many. In due time the whole city came out to view the first step of Rev. Josiah Nerve, D. D. S., toward becoming Rev. Josiah Nerve, D. D. CHAPTER VIII. HE NARROWLY ESCAPED.