These laws were not carried into effect: they were pigeon-holed.
Physically strong, tall, well made, with fine dark eyes and a face in which the traces of his handsome youth had not yet been obliterated by portliness and advancing years, still so nimble and athletic that he would jump and run in the sports of his Indian friends, and still so cheerful that he would join them in their dancing “canticoes,” a lover of fast horses, a sprightly and often facetious talker, and fond of good company—he was one of the most gracious and attractive members of the sect whose cause he had long championed with heroic zeal.
The meanes I use to suppresse this frenzy, and which seemeth the fittest for my purpose, is to crush, and trample this humane pride and fiercenesse under foot, to make them feele the emptinesse, vacuitie, and no worth of man[…].
It touches every possible nerve of a progressive Californian, whether black or white, by linking the right-to-work movement to the worst excesses of southern extremism: absurd, Bilboesque miscegenation fears; […]
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