So Satan had it in for the whole black race, and the
second after he landed on the beach the bridge-building gang was
stampeding over the compound fence and swarming up the cocoanut palms.
"Good morning," Sheldon called from the veranda. "And what do you think
of the nigger-chaser?"
"I'm thinking we have a task before us to train him in to the
house-boys," she called back.
"And to your Tahitians, too. Look out, Noah! Run for it!"
Satan, having satisfied himself that the tree-perches were unassailable,
was charging straight for the big Tahitian.
But Noah stood his ground, though somewhat irresolutely, and Satan, to
every one's surprise, danced and frisked about him with laughing eyes and
wagging tail.
"Now, that is what I might call a proper dog," was Joan's comment. "He
is at least wiser than you, Mr. Sheldon. He didn't require any teaching
to recognize the difference between a Tahitian and a black boy. What do
you think, Noah? Why don't he bite you? He savvee you Tahitian eh?"
Noa Noah shook his head and grinned.
"He no savvee me Tahitian," he explained. "He savvee me wear pants all
the same white man."
"You'll have to give him a course in 'Sartor Resartus,'" Sheldon laughed,
as he came down and began to make friends with Satan.
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