2. That Discrimination between the white and black races is designed by “law,” and rigidly enforced on the colored passenger, and a mere sham to the white passenger. 3. That Imposition upon the colored passenger, in the filthiest, smoky and inferior cars is participated in by the “highest white gentleman” and the lowest “ignoramus Hill Billy.” 4. That _Ignorance_ of Decency, politeness, modesty and morality of the colored passenger is maintained. 5. That Prejudice against the negro race, regardless of characteristics, prevails in general officers—brakemen and depot agents—and in case of a law suit for that which is actually and properly due, it occupies the highest seat in the Court room. 6. That a Christian minister is forced to smoke and associate with the worst of humanity, by his white brother. Christianity in this respect is inconsistent with that preached and practiced in India, China, Japan and Africa. EARLY EXPERIENCE. About one mile from the Coleman plantation lived Mrs. Covington, commonly known as “the Widow Covington.” She owned about 300 acres of cultivated and uncultivated land, left to her by her deceased husband. The land being valued at from one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre to ten dollars per acre, as most southern “sage” ground, placed her in poor circumstances. Her surroundings put her in the estimation of her colored neighbors nothing more than “poor white trash.” On account of her declining condition, my father, who was extremely liberal, sent me to the Widow Covington to assist her in gardening. It was a source of happiness to be away from home, and more especially to visit a white person’s house for the first time. Just as I left my father’s arms with a kiss and “good bye,” he exclaimed, “Be a good boy!” As I walked along the rocky pathway, ascending and descending the lofty hills, a constant voice, so tender and penetrating, seemed to re-echo the words of my beloved father, “Be a good boy.” Appearing at the widow’s gate, the customary salutation, “Hello,” was yelled out. Being told to come in, I briskly attempted to step in at the front door, when I was abruptly told, “Go around the back way.” This I readily did, thinking that preparations were being made to entertain the guest in the front room. I was given a seat in the kitchen, which was both kitchen and dining room, being tosted over toward the north, leaving several spaces large enough for the cook to have chicken visitors during meal hours. When dinner was prepared, the little colored guest was left to partake of the fragments on a separate table. This action being so inhuman, I asked the widow why did she not ask me to the front room, and before going to dinner send me to the toilet room, and let all sit at one table, as there was so much vacancy at her table. The widow displayed no small degree of madness in her response. “I want you to know that you are a nigger, and you must stay in a nigger’s place.”