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- 947
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- 2026-01-30T20:47:57.722Z
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- wooden leg in the distance, "is, no doubt, a churlish fellow enough, and
I would not wish to be like him; but that is no reason why you may not
be some sort of black Jeremy Diddler."
"No confidence in dis poor ole darkie, den?"
"Before giving you our confidence," said a third, "we will wait the
report of the kind gentleman who went in search of one of your friends
who was to speak for you."
"Very likely, in that case," said a fourth, "we shall wait here till
Christmas. Shouldn't wonder, did we not see that kind gentleman again.
After seeking awhile in vain, he will conclude he has been made a fool
of, and so not return to us for pure shame. Fact is, I begin to feel a
little qualmish about the darkie myself. Something queer about this
darkie, depend upon it."
Once more the negro wailed, and turning in despair from the last
speaker, imploringly caught the Methodist by the skirt of his coat. But
a change had come over that before impassioned intercessor. With an
irresolute and troubled air, he mutely eyed the suppliant; against whom,
somehow, by what seemed instinctive influences, the distrusts first set
on foot were now generally reviving, and, if anything, with added
severity.
"No confidence in dis poor ole darkie," yet again wailed the negro,
letting go the coat-skirts and turning appealingly all round him.
"Yes, my poor fellow _I_ have confidence in you," now exclaimed the
country merchant before named, whom the negro's appeal, coming so
piteously on the heel of pitilessness, seemed at last humanely to have
decided in his favor. "And here, here is some proof of my trust," with
which, tucking his umbrella under his arm, and diving down his hand into
his pocket, he fished forth a purse, and, accidentally, along with it,
his business card, which, unobserved, dropped to the deck. "Here, here,
my poor fellow," he continued, extending a half dollar.
Not more grateful for the coin than the kindness, the cripple's face
glowed like a polished copper saucepan, and shuffling a pace nigher,
with one upstretched hand he received the alms, while, as unconsciously,
his one advanced leather stump covered the card.
Done in despite of the general sentiment, the good deed of the merchant
was not, perhaps, without its unwelcome return from the crowd, since
that good deed seemed somehow to convey to them a sort of reproach.
Still again, and more pertinaciously than ever, the cry arose against
the negro, and still again he wailed forth his lament and appeal among
other things, repeating that the friends, of whom already he had
partially run off the list, would freely speak for him, would anybody go
find them.
"Why don't you go find 'em yourself?" demanded a gruff boatman.
"How can I go find 'em myself? Dis poor ole game-legged darkie's friends
must come to him. Oh, whar, whar is dat good friend of dis darkie's, dat
good man wid de weed?"
At this point, a steward ringing a bell came along, summoning all
persons who had not got their tickets to step to the captain's office;
an announcement which speedily thinned the throng about the black
cripple, who himself soon forlornly stumped out of sight, probably on
much the same errand as the rest.
- title
- Chunk 6