The Voice of the PeopleGlasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
General
The Voice of the People
Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson
Virginia -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
And he left the hotel, walking rapidly in the direction of the Capitol.
Once or twice he stopped to speak to an acquaintance who wanted his
opinion of Burr's chances, and to such inquiries his response was
invariably an expression of perfect conviction. But when alone his
uncertainty appeared--and he acknowledged to himself that he was afraid
of Rann's last card. What it was he did not know, but he knew that when
the time came it would be well played. Bassett was right--it was not
party bitterness that moved Rann, it was personal hatred.
The square was flooded with sunshine, and down the green slopes gray
squirrels were feeding from the hands of children. Overhead the elms
were russet from a sharp frost, and the golden leaves of the sycamores
shone against the leprous whiteness of the branches.
Near a fountain he came upon his own small daughter building huts of
pebbles. As she saw him she gave a shrill scream and caught his knees in
a tight embrace. He raised her in his arms for a kiss, and then spoke
cordially to the old negro janitor of the Capitol, who was watching him.
"Is that you, Carter? Good-morning!"
"Well, I declar, boss, I ain' seen you fur a mont' er Sundays."
"You must have been looking at the clouds, Carter."
"Naw, suh, I'se been lookin' right out yer, an' I ain' seen you. Is you
gwine ter 'lect de gov'nor?"
Galt was holding his daughter high enough to reach the branches of an
elm. "I'm trying to, Carter," he returned good-humouredly, "but I can't
do it by myself. Won't you lend a hand?"
"I'll len' 'em bofe, if you want 'em, boss. I'se been stedyin' 'bout dis
bizness, an' I'se got a plan all laid out in my haid. Dey's a lot er
coloured folks in dis State, suh."
"That's so, man."
"An' dey's all got a vote des de same es de white?"
Galt laughed. "Sure's you live," he replied.
"Well, I'se gwine ter git my friend Bob Viars ter git up er meetin' er
all de coloured folks roun' in Cumberland County, an' I'se gwine ter put
on de bes' I'se got an' git up on de platform an' Bob's gwine tell 'em
I'se de janitor er de Capitol dat knows all de ways de laws are
made--an' when Bob says dat, I'se gwine ter bow an' flirt my hank'chif."
Galt nodded. "Oh, I see," he said.
"Den I'se gwine say I'se come ter tell 'em ter 'lect de gov'nor 'case
he's de bes' man in de State an' de greates' gent-man dey's ever lay
eyes on--an' I'se gwine flirt my hank'chif some mo'."
"What else?" said Galt.
"I'se gwine tell 'em I kin prove de gov'nor's de bes' man in de State
by'splainin' er de tarif--dat I kin prove it by'splainin' er de tarif so
dey'll unnerstan' it ev'y word--an' when I flirt my hank'chif dat time,
Bob's gwine call out 'Yo' time's up, boss!' an' I'se gwine answer back,
'Naw 'tain't, Bob, des lemme 'splain de tarif. I'se got de
'splanification er de tarif right on de tip er my tongue,' an' Bob's
gwine holler out, 'Not anudderword, boss, not anudder word!' an' he
gwine shuffle me right spang out."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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