Alwyn, I believe."
"Yes, sir."
"And--"
"My friend, Miss Wynn."
The Senator glanced at Miss Wynn and she bowed demurely. Then he turned
to Alwyn.
"Well, Mr. Alwyn, Washington is a bad place to start in the world."
Bles looked surprised and incredulous. He could conceive of no finer
starting-place, but he said nothing.
"It is a grave," continued the Senator, "of ambitions and ideals. You
would far better go back to Alabama"--pausing and looking at the young
man keenly--"but you won't--you won't--not yet, at any rate." And Bles
shook his head slowly.
"No--well, what can I do for you?"
"I want work--I'll do anything."
"No, you'll do one thing--be a clerk, and then if you have the right
stuff in you you will throw up that job in a year and start again."
"I'd like at least to try it, sir."
"Well, I can't help you much there; that's in civil-service, and you
must take the examination."
"I have, sir."
"So? Where, and what mark?"
"In the Treasury Department; I got a mark of ninety-three."
"What!--and no appointment?" The Senator was incredulous.
"No, sir; not yet."
Here Miss Wynn interposed.
"You see, Senator," she said, "civil-service rules are not always
impervious to race prejudice."
The Senator frowned.
"Do you mean to intimate that Mr. Alwyn's appointment is held up because
he is colored?"
"I do.
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