“It does beat all how neat the niggers played their hand. They let on to be sorry they was going out of this region! And I believed they was sorry, and so did you, and so did everybody. Don’t ever tell me any more that a nigger ain’t got any histrionic talent. Why, the way they played that thing it would fool anybody . In my opinion, there’s a fortune in ’em. If I had capital and a theater, I wouldn’t want a better layout than that⁠—and here we’ve gone and sold ’em for a song. Yes, and ain’t privileged to sing the song yet. Say, where is that song⁠—that draft?”

“In the bank for to be collected. Where would it be?”