‚ÄúHe hasn‚Äôt dared,‚Äù Miss Smith went gently on. ‚ÄúNo thought of you but as a teacher has yet entered his dear, simple head. But, my point is simply this: he‚Äôs a man, and a human one, and if you keep on making much over him, and talking to him and petting him, he‚Äôll have the right to interpret your manner in his own way‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe same that any young man would.‚Äù
‚ÄúBut‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut, he‚Äôs a‚ÅÝ‚Äîa‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
‚ÄúA Negro. To be sure, he is; and a man in addition. Now, dear, don‚Äôt take this too much to heart; this is not a rebuke, but a clumsy warning. I am simply trying to make clear to you why you should be careful. Treat poor Zora a little more lovingly, and Bles a little less warmly. They are just human‚ÅÝ‚Äîbut, oh! so human.‚Äù
Mary Taylor rose up stiffly and mumbled a brief good night. She went to her room, and sat down in the dark. The mere mention of the thing was to her so preposterous‚ÅÝ‚Äîno, loathsome, she kept repeating.
She slowly undressed in the dark, and heard the rumbling of the cotton wagons as they swayed toward town. The cry of the Naked was sweeping the world, and yonder in the night black men were answering the call. They knew not what or why they answered, but obeyed the irresistible call, with hearts light and song upon their lips‚ÅÝ‚Äîthe Song of Service. They lashed their mules and drank their whiskey, and all night the piled fleece swept by Mary Taylor‚Äôs window, flying‚ÅÝ‚Äîflying to that far cry. Miss Taylor turned uneasily in her bed and jerked the bedclothes about her ears.
‚Äú Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool is right,‚Äù she confided to the night, with something of the awe with which one suddenly comprehends a hidden oracle; ‚Äúthere must be a difference, always, always! That impudent Negro!‚Äù