Here he paused for an instant, and then resumed, "But the greatest objection we have to the Negro is that his nature does not seem to have in it the seditious element to any appreciable degree. He will move along patiently, enduring evils and debating his right--actually his right--to rebel against oppression. He has an abnormal respect for constituted authority. He does not admit to himself the inherent right to throw off the hand of an oppressor. He stands and looks pleadingly at him, waiting for the time to come when the better sense of the oppressor will assert itself. He really expects for the tyrannous spirit to develop forces within that will overthrow itself. Ignorant of history, he does not know that the spirit of oppression will yield only to force or the fear of it. The Anglo-Saxon has never gotten anything for which he did not fight, or impress the party concerned that he was ready to fight for it. "Now, our Union wants it distinctly understood that what we labor for WE MUST HAVE. We shall have it if we ignore all laws, defy all constituted authority, overthrow all government, violate all tradition. Our end MUST be attained, at whatever cost. If a foe stands in our way, and nothing will dislodge him but death, then he must die. That is the dictum of the Anglo-Saxon. The Negro, lacking this spirit, has no place in our ranks." John Wysong had heard every word of the conversation up to this point, but his mind could go no further. It was in a whirl. Over and over again the words of the Master Workman rang in his ears: "If a foe stands in our way and nothing will dislodge him but death, then he must die." The clatter of the horses' hoofs seemed to say this; the revolving wheels of the carriage seemed to repeat it over and over, and the hum and noise of the city seemed to be but a loud echo of the sentiment that had fallen into Wysong's already disordered brain. Time and again he had to be hallooed to by the policemen to keep in the line mapped out for the parade. His hands trembled with nervous excitement, and his eyes were red and wild-looking. At length the parade was over. The Mayor suggested that the Master Workman go to the City Hall and enter the tower, rising two hundred feet in the air, so that he could have a view of the entire city. John Wysong heard the suggestion and it made him tremble all the more violently, his heart thumping loudly the while. "If a foe stands in our way and nothing will dislodge him but death, then he must die," kept ringing in his ears.