The Sable Mother's Warning

"Ephraiin, come to your mudder, boy. Whar you bin?" "Playiu' wid de white f'olks' chillun." "You is, oh? Soe hyar, chile, you'll broke your ole mudder's heart, an' brinp her gray hairs in sorrow to the grave wid recklumness an' earryins on wid ovil l syashuns. liabn't I raised you in de way you should oughter ko?" "Yethuw." "Habn't I reezund wid you, and prayed wid, and deplored de jood Lord to wrap you up in his buzzmn ?" "Yethum." "Well, den, do you s'po.-o l'm gwtqe to hab yer moraLs ruptured by de white tntb f" No. sah I" Git 'm dis minit ; an' if' I evercotcn you 'municatiii' wid de white trash any rao' l'o' da Lord, DigKer, 111 broko yer black baad wid a brick. A Cleveland newspaper man speaks of a "the most ilflicious, deleotable, entrauoing and distraeting of all innocent indulgenoes." A man who can write such beautiful stuff as that, ought to get a salary of at least forty cents a day- and"found 1"