Halfway to New Bedford,
or more, Col. Clifford, recognizing me, left his seat, and not
having seen me before since I had ceased to wait on him (in
everything except hard arguments against his pro-slavery
position), apparently forgetful of his rank, manifested, in
greeting me, something of the feeling of an old friend. This
demonstration was not lost on the gentleman whose dignity I had,
an hour before, most seriously offended. Col. Clifford was known
to be about the most aristocratic gentleman in Bristol county;
and it was evidently thought that I must be somebody, else I
should not have been thus noticed, by a person so distinguished.
Sure enough, after Col. Clifford left me, I found myself
surrounded with friends; and among the number, my offended friend
stood nearest, and with an apology for his rudeness, which I
could not resist, although it was one of the lamest ever offered.
With such facts as these before me--and I have many of them--I am
inclined to think that pride and fashion have much to do with
<314>the treatment commonly extended to colored people in the
United States.
Pages:
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566