She retired presently, but it was sometime before she went to sleep. CHAPTER SEVEN "_It All Falls Right Back on Society_" "Two Negroes killed yesterday in the city, is the homicide record for this town, which makes thirteen killed in the last week," said Wilson Jacobs the following morning, as he laid the paper down to take up his knife at breakfast. "Every day, at least, it is almost every day, there is a murder of each other by our people in this town. Saturday night or Sunday usually sees four or five such crimes." "Isn't it deplorable?" breathed Mildred, seating herself at the other side. "What accounts, Mr. Reverend"--she somehow found it awkward to call him Reverend--"Jacobs, for such acts, that is, such is to be expected; but why does there happen to be so much of it here?" "Ignorance--lack of intelligence in our people. This city has a preponderance of ignorant, polluted people among the Negroes. They flock into this town from all around, and represent the low, polluted, and depraved element of our race. They settle about the levee district, spend their earnings for the worst whiskey, give the remainder of their time to gambling and all forms of vice, and murder is the natural consequence." "Is there no way, there are so many churches, it would seem that so many places of worship would have a good effect upon these people?" said the other anxiously. "More than a hundred Negro churches in this town; but they are, for the most part, churches only. Seventy of these are Baptist, and they are building more right along." "I meet it every day in my work," she said. "Always so many apparently good women, mothers and daughters, sisters, who say: 'I sho would lak t' have that book, but y' see, it's lak this. We's building a new chu'ch; or, a rally is on next Sunday, 'n' all the women is axed t' give five dollars 'n' the men ten,' etc. and etc. But that is not the most I hear; it is: 'Lawd, Lawd, honey, yu' sweet li'l chile. I sho is sorry to disappint you. I sho is. You walkin' way up heh 'n' bringin' tha' book; but don' you know, honey, that low down nigga man a mine went off Sat'dy night un got drunk, got t' fightin' and was 'rested. I did'n' pay no 'tention when 'e did'n' show up a-Sat'dy night; nor was I wo'ied Sunday; but when Monday mawnin' come 'n' no nigga, den I knowed de p'lice done got dat nigga. And dey had, Sat'dy night fo' fightin' 'n' 'sturbin de peace. So I done took yo' money, honey, 'n' got dat nigga out. 'n' now, honey, I jes' cain' say when I'll be ready, 'cause 'e done lost his job, too, so that means I gotta take ceh' a both uv us.'" "If we allow our minds to dwell too long on it, frankly, Miss Latham," said he, "we will become discouraged. Where ignorance is bliss, it may be folly to be wise; but it is unprofitable, from a moral point of view. So, as long as we have a preponderance of ignorance, just so long are we going to have a dreadful homicide record in this, and other towns."