"Wid the party of Aberham Lincoln, suh; an' if you want to know why, turn to St. Paul (or it may be St. Second Timothy--one or the other) an' you'll see where the brotherin is begged an' commanded for to stand by one another in all manner of trial an' tribulation. In them days, suh, they grit one another wi' a holy kiss; but in these times--la! holy kissin' is done played out like a hoss that went through the war!" At this point the negro legislator, in order to keep up his reputation for representing his race, spoke up. "Frien', what has you been doin', an' what has you been tuck up fer? It look like ter me that you has got a case fer ter fetch up in the gener'l insembly, an' ef you is, I want ter have the handlin' un it." It was Mr. Tidwell who replied. "Don't you remember that old Tuttle was an overseer before the war? He had no niggers of his own, and he took his spite out on other people's niggers. One day, when he was kicking and cuffing this boy here, he hit him one lick too many. Randall turned on him, and came pretty near knocking him into the middle of next week. You-all have put old Tuttle in a place where he has a little power, and now, after all these years, he wants to slap Randall in jail, when he knows just as well as you know that he hit the boy a hundred times as many licks as the boy hit him. And he sha'n't put him in jail! One of you boys run to Mr. Whipple's and tell him that Mr. Sanders wants to see him at the courthouse at once. Tell him that Randall is in trouble." Not only one negro, but half a dozen negroes, went on a run to carry the message to old Jonas. "Ten to one he doesn't come," remarked Mr. Tidwell to his companion in an undertone. Mr. Sanders himself had a very small supply of undertones, and so he spoke right out when he replied to the lawyer--"Ef he don't come I'll go arter him, an' ef I have to do that, I'll paint him red before he gits here! I promise you you won't know him!"