"Of course, and that is just what Mr. Cresswell wants. Isn't it, Mr.
Cresswell?" asked Mrs. Grey.
"I think I may say yes," Mr. Cresswell agreed. "I certainly want these
people to develop as far as they can, although Miss Smith and I would
differ as to their possibilities. But it is not so much in the general
theory of Negro education as in its particular applications where our
chief differences would lie. I may agree that a boy should learn higher
arithmetic, yet object to his loafing in plough-time. I might want to
educate some girls but not girls like Zora."
Mrs. Vanderpool glanced at Mr. Cresswell, smiling to herself.
Mrs. Grey broke in, beaming:
"That's just it, dear Miss Smith,--just it. Your heart is good, but you
need strong practical advice. You know we weak women are so impractical,
as my poor Job so often said. Now, I'm going to arrange to endow this
school with at least--at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. One
condition is that my friend, Mr. Cresswell here, and these other
gentlemen, including sound Northern business men like Mr. Easterly,
shall hold this money in trust, and expend it for your school as they
think best."
"Mr. Cresswell would be their local representative?" asked Miss Smith
slowly with white face.
"Why yes--yes, of course."
There was a long, tense silence.
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