Mr. Belknap-Jackson, however, to whom I mentioned the
circumstance, was pessimistic.
"I fear," said he, "we have not heard the last of it. I am sure they
came for no good purpose."
"They were quite orderly in their behaviour," I suggested
"Which is why I suspect them. That Kenner woman, Hobbs, the baker, the
others of their set--they're not thinking people; I dare say they
never consider social problems seriously. And you may have noticed
that they announce an amateur minstrel performance for a week hence.
I'm quite convinced that they mean to be vulgar to the last
extreme--there has been so much talk of the behaviour of the wretched
Floud, a fellow who really has no place in our modern civilization. He
should be compelled to remain on his ranche."
And indeed these suspicions proved to be only too well founded. That
which followed was so atrociously personal that in any country but
America we could have had an action against them. As Mr.
Belknap-Jackson so bitterly said when all was over, "Our boasted
liberty has degenerated into license."
It is best told in a few words, this affair of the minstrel
performance, which I understood was to be an entertainment wherein the
participants darkened themselves to resemble blackamoors.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201