“Well, dey better lemme erlone, or dere’ll be trouble in dis town, sho’s my name’s Nelse.” “Don’t you resist their officer. Come to me if you get into trouble with them,” was the Preacher’s parting injunction. Nelse made his way out leading Charlie by the hand, and bowing his giant form in a quaint deferential way to the white people he knew. He seemed proud of his association in the church with the whites, and the position of inferiority assigned him in no sense disturbed his pride. He was muttering to himself as he walked slowly along looking down at the ground thoughtfully. There was infinite scorn and defiance in his voice. “Bu-ro! Bu-ro! Des let ’em fool wid me! I’ll make ’em see de seben stars in de middle er de day!” CHAPTER VI--THE PREACHER AND THE WOMAN OF BOSTON THE next day the Preacher had a call from Miss Susan Walker of Boston, whose liberality had built the new Negro school house and whose life and fortune was devoted to the education and elevation of the Negro race. She had been in the village often within the year, running up from Independence where she was building and endowing a magnificent classical college for negroes. He had often heard of her, but as she stopped with negroes when on her visits he had never met her. He was especially interested in her after hearing incidentally that she was a member of a Baptist church in Boston. On entering the parlour the Preacher greeted his visitor with the deference the typical Southern man instinctively pays to woman. “I am pleased to meet you, Madam,” he said with a graceful bow and kindly smile, as he led her to the most comfortable seat he could find. She looked him squarely in the face for a moment as though surprised and smilingly replied, “I believe you Southern men are all alike, woman flatterers. You have a way of making every woman believe you think her a queen. It pleases me, I can’t help confessing it, though I sometimes despise myself for it. But I am not going to give you an opportunity to feed my vanity this morning. I’ve come for a plain face to face talk with you on the one subject that fills my heart, my work among the Freedmen. You are a Baptist minister. I have a right to your friendship and co-operation.” A cloud overshadowed the Preacher’s face as he seated himself. He said nothing for a moment, looking curiously and thoughtfully at his visitor.