[untitled]

     Jim Parker, the negro, who probably saved the president’s life by promptly knocking down his would-be assassin, regrets that the attempt was not made in the South, where the anarchist would have been promptly lynched. Jim likes the Southern way of doing things. This leads us to remark that the American negro is at home nowhere but in the South. Let him go North and be “mistered” by Yankees, and he still longs for the land of Dixie and “old marster,” where the usual salutation which greets him is: “You, Jim, you black rascal,” but in a tone which means a dime, a dram or tobacco for the asking. Let the negro quit politics and frown down the brutes of his race, and he will always find the white men of the South his best friends and protectors, just as they have ever been in the past. There is a suggestion that Jim Parker be rewarded for his promptness and bravery in handling Czolgosz and it should be done. An appointment to wait about the executive mansion with a good salary for life would be a fitting reward.