I call myself an Anglo-Saxon." "What, not call yourself an Injun,--when your great-grandmother was one?
Here's a pretty go!" "Nonsense! 'tisn't likely that filtered Indian blood can take precedence and mastery of all the Anglo-Saxon material it's run through since then." "Hurray! now you've said it.

Lookee here, Captain.

You say the Anglo-Saxon's the master race of the world." "Of course I do." "Of course you do,--being a sensible fellow.

So do I; and you say the negro blood is mighty poor stuff, and the race a long way behind ours." "Of course, again." "Now, Captain, just take a sober squint at your own logic.

You back Anglo-Saxon against the field; very well! here's Miss Ercildoune, we'll say, one eighth negro, seven eighths Anglo-Saxon.