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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 82, August, 1864"

We can keep you to-night, and probably to-morrow
night, if you like to stay; but after that I can't promise. Mebby we
sha'n't have a ruf for our own heads then. But we'll trust the Lord,"
said Mr. Williams, with a deep, serious smile,--while Mrs. Williams
sighed.
"How is it about that matter?" Gentleman Bill inquired.
"The house is to be tore down Monday, I suppose," replied his father,
mildly.
"My gracious!" exclaimed Bill; "Mr. Frisbie a'n't really going to carry
that threat into execution?"
"That's what he says, William. He has got a prejudice ag'inst color, you
know. Since he lost the election, through the opposition of the
abolitionists, as he thinks, he's been very much excited on the
subject," added Mr. Williams, in his subdued way.
"Excited!" echoed his wife, bitterly.
She was a much-suffering woman, inclined to melancholy; but there was a
latent fire in her when she seemed most despondent, and she roused up
now and spoke with passionate, flashing eyes:--
"Sence he got beat, town-meetin' day, he don't 'pear to take no comfort,
'thout 't is hatin' Judge Gingerford and spitin' niggers, as he calls
us.


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