Have you heard, my friend, the slander that the Negro has to
face? Immorality, the grossest, has been charged up to his race.
Listen, listen to my story, as I now proceed to tell Of
conditions in the Southland, where the mass of Negroes dwell.
Ev'ry city, town or county, ev'ry state on Southern soil, Has
mulattoes in its borders, found among the sons of toil. Can you
tell from whence they landed; or to whither shall they go? Is
the Negro race responsible alone, I'd like to know? When a man
among the Negroes is the least suspected there Of an intimate
relation with a daughter that is fair, Then an angry mob arises
and he answers for the same In a death, the worst in cruelty the
company can name. Though the noonday sun is shining at the time
the lynching's done, Still the officers of justice can't detect
a single one, Who partook in Negro killing, for the deed no one
is blamed, And inside the nation's senate comes a voice, 'We're
not ashamed.' Is the same true when a white man leads a Negro
girl astray? When he