FOLKS FROM DEXIE
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oys in ragged knickerbockers huddled togetheron the ground, “shooting craps” with preco-cious avidity and quarrelling over the penniesthat made the pitiful wagers. He heard glibprofanity rolling from the lips of children whoshould have been stumbling through baby cate-chisms; and his heart ached for them. He would have turned and gone back to hisroom, but the sound of shouts, laughter, andthe tum-tum of a musical instrument drew himon down the street. At the turn of a corner,the place from which the noise emanated methis eyes. It was a rude frame building, low andunpainted. The panes in its windows whoseplaces had not been supplied by sheets of tinwere daubed a dingy red. Numerous kegs andbottles on the outside attested the nature of theplace. The front door was open, but the inte-rior was concealed by a gaudy curtain stretchedacross the entrance within. Over the doorwas the inscription, in straggling characters,“Sander’s Place;”’ and when he saw _half-a-dozen Negroes enter, the minister knew instantlythat he now beheld the colored saloon whichwas the frequenting-place of his hostess’s son’Lias; and he wondered, if, as the mother said, 44
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