But Jim Parks at home, among his white folks, and Jim Parks abroad, with the people of his own race, were different persons--a Dr. Jekel and a Mr. Hyde. At noon, Saturday, the last day of the Mecklenburg court, Judge Shaler presiding, Solicitor Bluelaw called the Zion Camp Meeting case, and put Rev. Archie Degraffenreid LaFayette Small, colored, on the stand. “Parson,” said the prosecuting attorney, “tell the court what took place at the camp ground that Sunday.” “Yes, sir; it wuz lak dis: I’d been in de pulpit about two minutes, gettin’ ready to preach de eight o’clock sermon, when I seed a commotion in de grounds, about two-hund’d yards away, an’ twuzn’t long ’fo’ I heard a pistol crack, an’ dere wuz a scatteration of people.” “Who used the weapon?” “I heard ’em say it wuz dis here Jim Parks--dat boy over dere.” “Don’t tell what you heard,” said Col. Calvin Tedder, attorney for the defense, “but what you actually saw.” “Yes, sir; well de moist dat I seed wuz folks runnin’--gittin’ away frum dere.” “Did you hear more than one pistol shot?” asked the solicitor. “Yes, sir; some several shots. In fact, sir, dey come so fas’ dat I couldn’t give out de hymn fur hearin’ ’em.” “You were pretty badly frightened, were you not?” “’Cose I wuz, sir, an’ I ain’t shame to say it. I felt my legs trimblin’, an’ I couldn’t keep my eye on de book. “Yes, sir, de public worship wuz already disturbed. Ef de shootin’ had stopped dere de law wuz done broke. “Yes, sir.” “Is this defendant the man who created the disturbance in the yard?” “Yes, sir; he’s de one, fur I knows him well. He’s de one dat tuck Brother Jones’ watermillons.” “How is that?” asked the court, interested. “Yes, sir, please yo’ honor, it wuz lak dis: Brother Jones, uv de Sandy Creek kermunity, focht a load uv watermillons an’ wuz sellin’ ’em, when dis man Parks come out uv one uv de tents an’ pick out a big millon an’ ’low: ‘I’ll des take dis one wid me.’ “‘Not till you give me thirty-five cents,’ says Brother Jones, dis lak dat. “‘Take dat,’ said dis boy, pitchin’ Brother Jones a nickel. “Dat wuz de start uv it, an’ one word brought on another ’till Parks jerked out his gun an’ fell to shootin’.” “Who did he shoot at?” “Brother Jones.” “What did Jones do?” “Run, sir. De last time I seed ’im wuz when he struck de woods ’bout half mile away.” “It’s generally time to run when this negro gets after you with a revolver, ain’t it?” asked the solicitor. “Yes, sir. He’s gut de reputation uv bein’ mighty handy wid his gun.” “What followed? Tell the whole story.” “Well, sir, befo’ Brother Jones wuz out uv sight good, dis Jim Parks come to de arbor an’ saunter down de aisle.” “Did you see him?” “’Cose I did; I wuz makin’ out lak I wuz readin’ de hymn, but de truf wuz I had my eye on dat nigger, ’cause I knowed ’im uv old.” “Go ahead; tell what you saw.”