“I went ’long wid Hamp, suh, an’ he show’d me de way ter de gall’ry, an’ I sot up dar an’ look down on um, an’ wonder why all un um, white an’ black, wa’n’t at home yearnin’ der livin’ ’stidder bein’ in dat place a-wranglin’ an’ callin’ names, an’ howlin’ an’ wavin’ der arms an’ han’s. Dey wuz a big fat white man settin’ up in de pulpit, an’ he kep’ on a-maulin’ it wid a mallet. I dunner what his name wuz, but I hear one big buck nigger call ’im Mr. Cheer. Marse Tumlin tol’ me atterwards dat de man wuz de speaker, but all de res’ done lots mo’ speakin’ dan what he did; all un um ’cep’ Hamp. “Yasser; all un um ’cep’ Hamp, an’ he sot dar so still dat ’twa’n’t long ’fo’ I ’gun ter git shame un him. He sot dar an’ fumble wid some papers, an’ helt his head down, an’ look like he skeer’d. I watch ’im, suh, twel I got so res’less in de min’ I can’t set still. Bimeby I got up an’ went down ter de front do’; I wuz gwine ter make my way in dar whar Hamp wuz at, an’ kinder fetch ’im out’n his dreams, ef so be he wuz dreamin’. An’ I’d a gone in, but a nigger man at de do’ barred de way. He say, ‘Who you want ter see?’ I ’low, ‘I wanter see Hamp Tumlin, dat’s who.’ He say, ‘Does you mean de Honnerbul Hampton Tumlin?’ I ’low, ‘Yes, I does ef you wanter put it dat away. _Go in dar an’ tell ’im dat de Honnerbul Minervy Ann Perdue is out here waitin’ fer ’im, an’ he better come quick ef he know what good fer ’im._’ “Wid dat, suh, I hear somebody laugh, an’ look up an’ dar wuz Marse Tumlin standin’ not fur fum de do’ talkin’ wid an’er white man. He ’low, ‘Scott, dis is Minervy Ann. She got mo’ sense an’ grit dan half de white folks you meet.’ Well, suh, de man come up, he did, an’ shuck han’s an’ say he mighty glad ter see me. I never is ter fergit his name on ’count er what happen afterwards. ’Bout dat time Hamp come out an’ Marse Tumlin an’ de ’t’er man draw’d off up de hall. “I say, ‘Hamp, why in de name er goodness ain’t you ’ten’ ter yo’ bizness? What you waitin’ fer? Is you skeer’d?’ He vow an’ declair’ dat he des waitin’ a chance fer ter put de paper in. I tol’ ’im dat de way ter git a chance wuz ter make one, an’ wid dat he went on in, an’ I went back in de gall’ry. Well, suh, ’twa’n’t long ’fo’ Hamp put in de paper. A man at de foot er de pulpit read it off, an’ den a white man settin’ not fur fum Hamp jump up an’ say he want sump’n done wid it, I dunner what. Hamp say sump’n back at ’im, an’ den de white man say he sorry fer ter see de honnerbul gemman gwine back on de erpublican party. Den Mose Bently—I know’d Mose mighty well—he riz an’ say ef de erpublican party is got ter be led ’roun’ by men like de one what des tuck his seat, it’s high time fer honest folks ter turn der backs on it.