“But you can see, can’t you, that if our men are deprived of the franchise, we become aliens in the very land of our birth?”
“Arthur says that would be better for us; the great loss of life would cease, and we should be at peace with the whites.”
“Ah, how can he argue so falsely! I have lived beneath the system of oppression in the South. If we lose the franchise, at the same time we shall lose the respect of all other citizens. Temporizing will not benefit us; rather, it will leave us branded as cowards, not worthy a freeman’s respect—an alien people, without a country and without a home.”
Dora gazed at her friend with admiration, and wished that she had a kodak, so that she might catch just the expression that lighted her eyes and glowed in a bright color upon her cheeks.
“I predict some fun when you and Arthur meet. I’ll just start you both out some night, and you’ll be spitting at each other like two cats inside of five minutes. Arthur thinks that women should be seen and not heard, where politics is under discussion.”
“Insufferable prig!” exclaimed Sappho, with snapping eyes.
“Oh, no, he isn’t; Arthur’s all right. But you see he is living South; his work is there, and he must keep in with the whites of the section where his work lies, or all he has accomplished will go for naught, and perhaps his life might be forfeited, too.”
“I see. The mess of pottage and the birthright.”
“Bless you! not so bad as that; but money makes the mare go,” returned Dora, with a wink at her friend, and a shrewd business look on her bright little Yankee face. “I say to you, as Arthur says to me when I tell him what I think of his system: ‘If you want honey, you must have money.’ I don’t know anything about politics, as I said before, but my opinion won’t cost you anything: when we can say that lots of our men are as rich as Jews, there’ll be no question about the franchise, and my idea is that Arthur’ll be one of the Jews.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Sappho disgustedly, as she resumed her lounging position.
“Sappho, how did you come to take up stenography? I should have thought you would have preferred teaching.”
“I had to live, my dear; I could not teach school, because my education does not include a college course. I could not do housework, because my constitution is naturally weak.”
It was noticeable in these confidential chats that Sappho never spoke of her early life. Dora had confided to her friend every event of importance that had occurred in her young life; and, in harmless gossip, had related the history of all the friends who visited the house intimately; but all this had begot no like unburdening to eager ears of the early history of her friend. Wonderful to relate, however, Dora did not resent this reserve, which she could see was studied. It spoke well for the sincerity of the love that had taken root in her heart for Sappho, that it subdued her inquisitiveness, and she gladly accepted her friendship without asking troublesome questions.
“How did you finally succeed in getting work? I have always heard that it was very difficult for colored girls to find employment in offices where your class of work is required.”
“And so it is, my dear. I sometimes think that if I lose the work I am on, I shall not try for another position. I shall never forget the day I started out to find work: the first place that I visited was all right until the man found I was colored; then he said that his wife wanted a nurse girl, and he had no doubt she would be glad to hire me, for I looked good-tempered. At the second place where I ventured to intrude the proprietor said: ‘Yes; we want a stenographer, but we’ve no work for your kind.’ However, that was preferable to the insulting familiarity which some men assumed. It was dreadful! I don’t like to think about it. Father Andrew induced the man for whom I am working to employ me. I do not interfere with the other help, because I take my work home; many of the other clerks have never seen me, and so the proprietor runs no risk of being bothered with complaints from them. He treats me very well, too.”
“I have heard many girls tell much the same tale about other lines of business,” said Dora. “It makes me content to do the work of this house, and not complain.”
“You ought to thank God every day for such a refuge as you have in your home.”
“I cannot understand people. Here in the North we are allowed every privilege. There seems to be no prejudice until we seek employment; then every door is closed against us. Can you explain this?”
“No, I cannot; to my way of thinking the whole thing is a Chinese puzzle.”
“Bless my soul! Just look at that clock!” exclaimed Dora, as she scrambled to her feet and began gathering up her scattered property. “Five o’clock, and tea to get. Sappho, you’ve been lazy enough for one day. Come downstairs and help me get tea. The boys will be here in no time, as hungry as bears.”
Piloted by Dora, Sappho became well acquainted with ancient landmarks of peculiar interest to the colored people. They visited the home for aged women on M⸺ Street, and read and sang to the occupants. They visited St. Monica’s Hospital, and carried clothes, flowers, and a little money saved from the cost of contemplated Easter finery. They scattered brightness along with charitable acts wherever a
