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community. Many a time he would have given up in despair had it not been for the love and esteem bestowed upon him by all the black people for miles around. The whites began to hate the young teacher, who told his people of the doctrine of equality and the far sweeping effect of the French Revolution and advised them to build themselves up, economically and spiritually, so that they could be ready when the hour came. Their hatred and contempt inspired him and with trenchant boldness he launched The Revolutionist, a Negro sheet of protest in which he both instructed and destroyed. "He is a dangerous niggah," the whites said, and they plotted among themselves how to overcome him. And Hagar brought to them the longed-for opportunity. Hagar was an industrious clothes-girl in the family of one Colonel Blackburn, who owned the entire community,-cotton, Negroes and poor whites. She was black, not comely, poverty and the abuse of ages robbing her of whatever beauty might have been her share; but she possessed the temper of a cowed being which unfortunately Edna Blackburn, te imperious daughter of the Colonel, aroused one Friday evening. "No; I shan't pay you," said Edna. "The clothes aren't worth it; besides I gave you a gingham apron two weeks ago. What more do you want?" "Ah wants some money, dat's all," flashed back the enraged Hagar. "Dah's mo dan me 'pendant on me fo' it; we has tuh eat and sleep laks de rest ob you, an' dat costs money. 'Sides ain't de wohk all right?" Thus they argued. Presently Hagar insisted upon taking the basked back to her cabin and when she was about to place her hands upon it Edna, as an act of intimidation, wielded a cowhide. Angry to the boiling point, Hagar seized a broom sitting near the kitchen door and in her blind fury struck the white girl on the temples. Edna fell over dead, and Hagar left, little realizing the tragedy she had committed. On the high road she heard a howling in the rear as of human wolves seeking their prey. Intuition told her that it was a lynching party and that evidently she was the intended victim. Dropping the basket, she ran, directing her course to Sinclair where she could put herself under the protection of Professor Simpson. It was a three mile run and only by miraculous effort did she escape the bloodhounds and throw herself at the feet of the youthful leader who was walking up and down the campus, weary after a customary quarrel with the president. "Sabe me! Sabe me! 'Fessah, sabe me!" she gasped. "What is the trouble?" he asked?. "Dey's aftah me! Day's aftah me! De lynchuhs!" was all the satisfaction the terrified girl could give him. Realizing the serious situation, Garrison rand the summons bell himself and almost immediately the entire male portion of the student body filed out fully prepared for drill. In a short address, Garrison informed them that the whites were about to cause trouble and probably attach the college itself. Each student had two different styles of charge and according to Garrison's directions was ordered to use the blanks first and not to fire until the enemy shot or attempted to cross the college boundary. So they stood, a solid phalanx, ready to defend their race and their lives; and their leader during the few moments of grace, his heart kindled with the fire of a patriot, thought of Toussaint who some hundred years since had taken his stand thus against Napoleon's invading army. Poor Hagar, quaking wit fear, crouched behind a bush, her heart beating tumultuously and excitement only keeping her alive. Presently, the whites advanced upon the school. "Heigho!" cried the leader; "Where's the nigguh gal, Haguh? We want huh." Garrison stepped within speaking distance. "And what has she done?" he asked in a voice rigidly calm. With oaths, characteristic of poor whites who ape the aristocracy of the South, the leader informed him of the crime, painting Hagar as both an imbecile and the most ferocious criminal of all ages. "If that is so," replied Garrison, "I shall be pleased to turn her over to the sheriff and his aides with the hope that she will be given a fair trial." "D-n it!" cried the leader. "We want huh now! We're itching to give huh a nice meal of pitch and tah and flame! She killed a white woman! The d-n hussy!" "Yes, we want huh. We want huh!" came from a hundred throats. And with a blood-curdling yell they attempted to break in the college gate. The students immediately fired. The unexpected charge, though harmless, frightened the mob and they fell back. Garrison immediately ordered the more effective bullets. "Fire!" cried the leader to the whites. "And aim foh the professuh!" After an hour of heavy fighting the president's surrey drove up, the president having been out for a drive. "Stop him! Stop him!" cried one of the whites. "He's the nigguh president and probably he knows." The president, frightened like a coward, shook and trembled and when he could manage to control his voice lapsed into dialect. "Yessah, yessah, massas! What's de trubble?" They explained it to him, adding: "We want the gul! We want to give huh huh just desuhts!" "Sho'! Tak' huh! She oughter be hanged! Yessah, she oughter! Kill a white 'oomans! De hussy! An' 'spects us 'spectable folks tuh help huh 'scape! Ah sho' is 'stonished." "Then lead us through your campus and let us search." "Sho'!" his teeth gleaming like a cat's. So, like Judas of old, the pedagog and man of God led the enemy, ordering his students to cease firing, which they refused to do. "It's that Simpson," said the leader, "D-n him!" "Simpson?" asked the president. "Did you say Simpson?" "Yes," replied the leader, "and if we could get him we'd make short work of him." "Ah'll show him tuh you gem'mun de right time. He oughter die! He hates yu white folks." Five minutes later, as Garrison was kneeling at a spring to get a drink of water for a wounded student, the president, inspired with his burning hate, pointed him out and one of the whites fired. The insurgent fell fatally wounded. The students, frightened, threw down their arms and ran pell mell, the whites ollowing ready for slaughter. A young white woman who had been watching the terrible riot from her carriage alighted and made her way to where Garrison was lying in his death agony. Stooping she took his head on her lap and staunched the blood with her delicate lace handkerchief. "Don't you know me?" she said. "Don't you know me, Mr. Simpson?" Garrison looked into her face, but could not name the owner. "Why, we went to school together. Don't you remember? I'm Elizabeth Selwyn, and I'm Georgia-born, too. But despite my Georgia blood, I admire you." "Why do you admire me? I'm black." "Yes, you're black-or rather mulatto- but you're a hero as grand as Charlemagne or Napoleon or Washington. This evening you reminded me of a famous black soldier I read about the other day;-I think his name was L'Ouverture. Oh, that I could love you, that no color line divided us!" "Why?" "I have always dreamed of loving a super-man, a person superior to all others, but I never thought that such would be found in the race I have been taught to despise. When you go before the God of both races, entreat Him to remove his prejudice that is gnawing the heart of society." "I shall do all I can for both races." An then closing his eyes, he said, "Look! I see Toussaint. He's coming to meet me! And with him I see Mirabeau and Wilhelm Tell and Watt Tyler and Wallace! And they have a laurel wreath for me! Oh, I die happy!" And thus he passed away.
There is a picture on the top, left-hand corner of page 172 labeled "Touissant L'Ouverture".
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