Its huge black form filled up the way; how could Victor and them like
him lift it up, put life and ambition in its big, heavy carcass, and
make it move off and let the hosts go forward?
The beast Greed lifted its long neck and fastened its fiery eyes on
Victor and his peers, and its mighty arms, tipped with a thousand sharp
claws and talons, wuz lifted up to keep them back—force them back into
the prison pens of servitude.
Victor see all this that Genieve couldn’t see, not bein’ made in that
way; he see it, but, like Christian in his march to the Beautiful City,
he wuz determined to press forward.
And as I sot there and looked at him and hearn him talk, I declare for’t
I got all rousted up myself with his project, and I felt ready, and told
him so, to help him all I could consistently with my duties as a pardner
and a member of the Methodist meetin’ house.
And as I hearn him talk, I seemed to be riz up more and more, and able
to see further than I had seen, and I felt a feelin’ that Victor wuz in
the right on’t. I thought back on how eloquent Maggie and I had growed
on the race question, and I felt that I wouldn’t take it back. No; I had
spoke my mind as things seemed to me then, and if the two races wuz
goin’ to be sot down together side by side, I felt that the idees we had
promulgated to each other wuz right idees; but the more Victor talked
the more I felt that his idees wuz right to separate the two races, if
it wuz possible to do it.
His talk made a deep impression onto me, and I went on in my mind and
drew some metafors further, it seemed to me, than I had ever drawed any,
and eppisoded to myself more eloquent than I had ever eppisoded.
I hain’t one to go half way into any undertakin’, and I made up my mind
then and there that if Victor and Genieve married and sot off for this
colony in Africa, that I would set ’em out with a bushel of my best
dried apples, and mebby more. And some dried peaches, and a dozen of
them pans—I thought they would come handy in Africa to ketch cocoanut
milk, or sunthin’.
And I said I would give ’em a couple of hens in welcome, and a male hen
and a pair of ducks, if he spozed he would get water enough to keep ’em
contented. Somehow I kep’ thinkin’ of the Desert of Sarah—I couldn’t
seem to keep Sarah out of my mind.
But he said there wuz plenty of water where they wuz goin’. And he sot
and promulgated his idees to me for some time. And I looked on him with
admiration and a considerable amount of deep respect.
He wuz a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome fellow, with very courteous,
winnin’ manners.
He had a clear-cut, resolute face, and silky brown hair that fell down
over a broad white forwerd, and a mustache of the same color.
His eyes would fairly melt sometimes, and be soft as a woman’s, and then
agin they would look you through and through and seem to be piercin’
through the hull dark path ahead out into the light of safety.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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