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Show At the End of Day's Run. The war was being discussed from all angles at the regular Saturday night meeting of the Gin and Possum Colored Gentlemen's Social club. "Yes, suh!" announced Pomp Dawson, with a wise look in his rolling eyes, "Dem Guhmans has got guns dat'll shoot, an' shoot tub kill at twenty-fi' miles." "Huh?" asked Brother Jackson, Jack-son, cocking his head. "Yas, suh!" went on Pomp. "Dey not on'y shoot twenty-fi' miles, but dey kill at twenty-fi' miles." "Great Lawd!" gasped Jackson. "Nigger'd run all an' git killed 'bout suppertime, wouldn't he?" |