Dr. Boldish of St. Faith's rich
parish to be one of the party, and at the last moment Temple Bocombe,
the sociologist, consented to join.
"Awfully busy," he said, "but I've been reading up on the Negro problem
since you mentioned the matter to me last week, Mr. Cresswell, and I
think I understand it thoroughly. I may be able to help out."
The necessary spice of young womanhood was added to the party by Miss
Taylor and Miss Cresswell, together with the silent Miss Boldish. They
were a comfortable and sometimes merry party. Dr. Boldish pointed out
the loafers at the stations, especially the black ones; Mr. Bocombe
counted them and estimated the number of hours of work lost at ten cents
an hour.
"Do they get that--ten cents an hour?" asked Miss Taylor.
"Oh, I don't know," replied Mr. Bocombe; "but suppose they do, for
instance. That is an average wage today."
"They look lazy," said Mrs. Grey.
"They are lazy," said Mr. Cresswell.
"So am I," added Mrs. Vanderpool, suppressing a yawn.
"It is uninteresting," murmured her husband, preparing for a nap.
On the whole the members of the party enjoyed themselves from the moment
they drew out of Jersey City to the afternoon when, in four carriages,
they rolled beneath the curious eyes of all Toomsville and swept under
the shadowed rampart of the swamp.
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