The roar might swell ever so high, but the expression
of his earnest face never changed.
A ragged, ebony giant, squatted on the floor in one of the
aisles, watched the orator with burning eyes and tremulous face
until the supreme burst of applause came, and then the tears ran
down his face. Most of the Negroes in the audience were crying,
perhaps without knowing just why.
At the close of the speech Governor Bullock rushed across the
stage and seized the orator's hand. Another shout greeted this
demonstration, and for a few minutes the two men stood facing each
other, hand in hand.
So far as I could spare the time from the immediate work at
Tuskegee, after my Atlanta address, I accepted some of the invitations
to speak in public which came to me, especially those that would take
me into territory where I thought it would pay to plead the cause of
my race, but I always did this with the understanding that I was to be
free to talk about my life-work and the needs of my people. I also
had it understood that I was not to speak in the capacity of a
professional lecturer, or for mere commercial gain.
In my efforts on the public platform I never have been able to
understand why people come to hear me speak.
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