"That was a wise move," said the boy after a moment's thought. "He sold his land at a fair price, got the money back that he put into buildings, established a regular supply of labor for his plantation, and at the same time fixed it all right for you." "Yas, sah," the old negro answered, "an' now every man in the town either owns his house or is buyin' one f'om the syndicate, an' we have bought up all the surveyed property f'om the Colonel. Now, sah," continued the preacher, "if yo' will excuse me, Ah will see that yo'r supper is got ready. Hyar, sah," he added, opening the door into a small room, "is yo'r sittin' room, an' yo'r supper will be served hyar." As much surprised as gratified at the excellent arrangements for his comfort, Hamilton refreshed himself after his dusty ride, and was as hungry as a wolf when supper arrived. A little darky girl, black as the ace of spades, waited at table, and in conversation Hamilton learned that she was the adopted daughter of the eldest son of the negro preacher, the son being a professor in one of the negro colleges. After supper Hamilton asked to see his host in order that he might secure the details of the family for the census, and thus make use of a disengaged evening. "So your son is Professor of English at the University," said Hamilton, as, with all the details secured, he closed the census portfolio. "Do, you think the negro ought only to learn a few things, or do you think he ought to be taught just the same as in the regular universities?" "Thar should be one good university," said the old preacher, "with very difficult admission examinations. It would be a good thing fo' colored lawyers an' doctors, an' if the standard were high--higher even than in white colleges--these men would get standin' fo' themselves an' give standin' to the colored race. But, even then, I'd have them keep away f'om the other lawyers an' doctors." "You're strong on that color line, Ephraim," the boy remarked. "Surely you don't believe in 'Jim Crow' cars and all that sort of thing?" "As long as thar is prejudice, Ah do," was the unexpected answer, "an' thar's no place fo' the negro in the city. He can't beat the white man, an' thar's no chance o' his securin' a monopoly o' any trade. Thar's nothin' fo' him in the city savin' jes' labor an' bein' a servant, a porter, or somethin' o' that kind." "You don't see many negro laborers in Northern cities," the boy remarked, "they're mostly elevator runners and in positions of that kind." "It is in the No'th that trouble lies," the old man said, "the South has settled hers." "How do you make that out?" cried the boy. "You say the South has settled the race question? I thought it was the biggest issue there was, down here and in the Gulf States." The old negro preacher shook his head.