“Won’t yo’ come in, sah?” the woman suggested.  “Yo’ll need a table, an’ pens an’ ink.”

“I have a fountain pen,” the lad answered, “but it would be easier writing on a table.  I guess I will come in.  Now,” he continued, as soon as he was seated, “has this house a number?”

“Yas, sah,” the woman replied, “seventeen, High Street.”

“And this is the first family I’ve seen, and the first house,” said Hamilton, entering a “1” in both columns.  “Now for the head of the family.  I think you said something about your husband?”

“Yas, sah, Steve, he’s my husban’.  We done been married six years.”

“You say his name is Stephen?  What is his other name?”

“Lawson, sah.”

“He’s colored, I suppose.”

“Yas, sah, he’s quite dark complected.”

“And you’re his first wife?” queried the boy, as he wrote “Lawson, Stephen,” in the name column, the word “Head” in the relation column, and the letter “B” for black, under the color or race column.

“Ah reckon Ah’m his first wife,” the woman replied, “he was jes’ twenty-one when Ah married him.”

“And you’ve been married six years,” the boy went on, entering Stephen Lawson’s age as 27, the number of years married as “6,” and “M. 1,” to show that he was married, and married only once.  “But you look like a girl still,” he added, “you must have been married very young.”

“Ah was jes’ sixteen,” she answered; “we was married on mah birthday.”

“And your name is—?”

“Lily, sah.”

“Any other name?”

“Mariamne, sah.”

For a moment or two Hamilton wrote busily, filling in “Lily M.,” “Wife,” “F” for female, “Mu” for mulatto, “22” for present age, “M. 1” for first marriage, and “6” for the number of years in wedlock.

“You have children?”

“One li’l boy, sah, but he’s deaf an’ dumb.  An’ so quick an’ clever, sah, in other ways, yo’ wouldn’ believe!”

“That’s hard luck,” said Hamilton kindly, “but they do such wonderful things to help them now, you know.  And he can learn a lot by reading.”

“Yas, sah, it’s hard enough.  But we’re glad he ain’t blind.”

“And what is his name?”

“Edward Habberton, sah, an’ he’s jes’ fo’ years old, near five.”

Hamilton entered the name of the little deaf and dumb boy, whom he could see sitting in an inner room, and noted down in the schedule his age, his color, and the nature of his affliction.

“Now, Lily,” he continued, “were you both born in Kentucky?”

“No, sah,” she replied, “none of us, savin’ little Eddie.  I’m f’om Delaware, an’ mah Steve, he’s f’om Maryland, where my mother come f’om.”

“Wait a bit,” said Hamilton, holding up his hand to stop her, “let me get this straight.  Stephen Lawson is from Maryland, you said, you’re from Delaware, and the boy was born in this State.  Is that right?”