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Marquis, Don, 1878-1937

"Danny's Own Story"

I reckon
yo' must love 'em a heap to be that concehned
over the colour of their skins."
And he turned his back on us and went into the
back room all by himself.
We seen we was in wrong in that town. The
doctor says it will be no use trying to interduce
our stuff there, and we might as well leave there
in the morning and go over to Bairdstown, which
was a little place about ten miles off the railroad,
and make our start there.
So we got a rig the next morning and drove
acrost the country. No one bid us good-bye,
neither, and Doctor Kirby says it's a wonder they
rented us the rig.
But before we started that morning we noticed
a funny thing. We hadn't so much as spoke to
any nigger, except our own nigger Sam, and he
couldn't of told ALL the niggers in that town about
the stuff to turn niggers white, even if he had set
up all night to do it. But every last nigger we
saw looked like he knowed something about us.
Even after we left town our nigger driver hailed
two or three niggers in the road that acted that-a-
way. It seemed like they was all awful polite to
us. And yet they was different in their politeness
than they was to them Georgia folks, which is their
natcheral-born bosses--acted more familiar, some-
how, as if they knowed we must be thinking about
the same thing they was thinking about.


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