"I don't quite understand, Jeff; you explain to me," answered Caroline
Darrah in the kind and respectful voice that she always used to these
family servants, which they understood perfectly and in which they took a
huge delight.
"Well, it's jest this way, Miss Ca'line, they is sets in the colored
folks jest like they is in the white folks. We is the _it_ set, me and
Tempie and Eph and all the fust family people. We's got our lawyers and
dentists and a university and a ice-cream parlor with the swellest kinder
soda fount in front. You heard how Mister David got that Country Club
for us, didn't you? Well, he backed the rent notes of the soda fount,
too--and he's jest naterly the fust set candidate fer anything he wants
ter be."
"Isn't he just the kindest best man, Jeff?" asked Caroline Darrah, in her
enthusiasm sacrificing a frosted muffin cake between her clasped hands.
"Yes'm, he am that fer a fact, and they can't no low-down whisky bum beat
him fer jedge, neither--'specially ef they count on using niggers to do
it with. You see the race am so mighty close, that all the booze bosses
is a telling the niggers that they is got the 'ballunce uf power' as they
calls it and it's up ter them ter elect a jedge fer whisky, the friend
'at'll let 'em drink it down. Why, they's got out a bottle of whisky as
has on the label 'Your Colored Friend', and it's put up in clear glass
and at the bottom you can see five new dimes a-shining. A nigger gits the
bottle and the fifty cents ef he votes with them. Old Booze is flinging
money right and left, fer if Mister David gits in he'll shore have ter
git out."
"That is perfectly awful, Jeff!" exclaimed Caroline with horror-stricken
eyes. "The poor people made to sell themselves that way--and the whole
city to lose David, a good judge, because they can't know what they do.
It is horrible and nobody can help it!"
"I ain't so sure about that, Miss Ca'line! Me and Tempie and Doctor Pike
Johnson and the dentist and Bud Simms, the man what runs the Palms, have
thought up a scheme ef we kin work it. You see they ain't a nigger from
Black Bottom to Mount Nebo as wouldn't sell his soul ter git ter the
Country Club and say he's been invited there. Now, we thought as how it
would be a good plan ter give it out that we was going to have er
David Kildare jedge celebration out there and have invertation tickets
printed. Then we could go ter the polls and fight down any dollar bottle
of whisky ever put up with one of them invites--every man ter bring a
lady, and dancing down in a corner of the card. We'd scotch them by
saying no 'lection, no dance, so they'll vote straight. Ain't that the
swell scheme? It'll work if we can make it go."