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hoecakes to go along with them。
'
Portia moved slowly around the kitchen in her stockinged feet
and her father followed her with his eyes。 For a while again
they were silent。
With his eyes wet； so that the edges of things were blurred；
Portia was truly like her mother。 Years ago Daisy had walked
like that around the kitchen； silent and occupied。 Daisy was
not black as he was—her skin had been like the beautiful
color of dark honey。 She was always very quiet and gentle。
But beneath that soft gentleness there was something stubborn
in her； and no matter how conscientiously he studied it all out；
he could not understand the gentle stubbornness in his wife。
He would exhort her and he would tell her all that was in his
heart and still she was gentle。 And still she would not listen to
him but would go on her own way。
Then later there were Hamilton and Karl Marx and William
and Portia。 And this feeling of real true purpose for them was
so strong that he knew exactly how each thing should be with
them。 Hamilton would be a great scientist and Karl Marx a
teacher of the Negro race and William a lawyer to fight
against injustice and Portia a doctor for women and children。
And when they were even babies he would tell them of the
yoke they must thrust from their shoulders—the
69
yoke of submission and slothfulness。 And when they were a
little older he would impress upon them that there was no
God； but that their lives were holy and for each one of them
there was this real true purpose。 He would tell it to them over
and over； and they would sit together far away from him and
look with their big Negro…children eyes at their mother。 And
Daisy would sit without listening； gentle and stubborn。
Because of the true purpose for Hamilton； Karl Marx；
William； and Portia； he knew how every detail should be。 In
the autumn of each year he took them all into town and bought
for them good black shoes and black stockings。 For Portia he
bought black woolen material for dresses and white linen for
collars and cuffs。 For the boys there was black wool for
trousers and fine white linen for shirts。 He did not want them
to wear bright…colored； flimsy clothes。 But when they went to
school those were the ones they wished to wear； and Daisy
said that they were embarrassed and that he was a hard father。
He knew how the house should be。 There could be no f and…
ness—no gaudy calendars or lace pillows or knickknacks —
but everything in the house must be plain and dark and
indicative of work and the real true purpose。
Then one night he found that Daisy had pierced holes in little
Portia's ears for earrings。 And another time a kew…pie doll
with feather skirts was on the mantelpiece when he came
home； and Daisy was gentle and hard and would not put it
away。 He knew； too； that Daisy was teaching the children the
cult of meekness。 She told them about hell and heaven。 Also
she convinced them of ghosts and of haunted places。 Daisy
went to church every Sunday and she talked sorrowfully to the
preacher of her own husband。 And with her stubbornness she
always took the children to the church； too； and they listened。
The whole Negro race was sick； and he was busy all the day
and sometimes half the night。 After the long day a great
weariness would come in him； but when he opened Sie front
gate of his home the weariness would go away。 Yet when he
went into the house William would be playing music on a
comb wrapped in toilet paper； Hamilton and Karl Marx would
be shooting craps for their lunch money； Portia would be
laughing with her mother。70
He would start all over with them； but in a different way。 He
would bring out their lessons and talk with them。 They would
sit close together and look at their mother。 He would talk and
talk； but none of them wanted to understand。
The feeling that would come on him was a black； terrible；
Negro feeling。 He would try to sit in his office and read and
meditate until he could be calm and start again。 He would pull
down the shades of the room so that there would be only the
bright light and the books and the feeling of meditation。 But
sometimes this calmness would not come。 He was young； and
the terrible feeling would not go away with study。
Hamilton； Karl Marx； William； and Portia would be afraid of
him and look at their mother—and sometimes when he
realized this the black feeling would conquer him and he knew
not what he did。
He could not stop those terrible things； and afterward he could
never understand。
'This here supper sure smells good to me；' said Portia。 1 expect
us better eat now because Highboy and Willie liable to come
trooping in any minute。'
Doctor Copeland settled his spectacles and pulled his chair up
to the table。 'Where have your husband and William been
spending the evening？'
They been throwing horseshoes。 This here Raymond Jones
haves a horseshoe place in his back yard。 This Raymond and
his sister； Love Jones； plays ever night。 Love is such a ugly
girl I don't mind about Highboy or Willie going around to
their house any time they wishes。 But they said they would
come back for me at quarter to ten and I expecting them now
any minute。'
'Before I forget；' said Doctor Copeland。 'I suppose you hear
frequently from Hamilton and Karl Marx。'
'I does from Hamilton。 He practically taken over all the work
on our Grandpapa's place。 But Buddy； he in Mobile —and you
know he were never a big hand at writing letters。 However；
Buddy always haves such a sweet way with peoples that I
don't ever worry concerning him。 He the kind to always get
along right well。'
They sat silently at the table before the supper。 Portia kept
looking up at the clock on the cupboard because it
71
was time for Highboy and Willie to come。 Doctor Copeland
bent his head over the plate。 He held the fork in his hand as
though it were heavy； and his fingers trembled。 He only tasted
the food and with each mouthful he swallowed hard。 There
was a feeling of strain； and it seemed as though both of them
wanted to keep up some conversation。
Doctor Copeland did not know how to begin。 Sometimes he
thought that he had talked so much in the years before to his
children and they had understood so little that now there was
nothing at all to say。 After a while he wiped his mouth with
his handkerchief and spoke in an uncertain voice。
'You have hardly mentioned yourself。 Tell me about your job
and what you have been doing lately。'
'Course I still with the Kellys；' said Portia。 'But I tells you；
Father； I don't know how long I going to be able to keep on
with them。 The work is hard and it always take me a long time
to get through。 However； that don't bother me none。 It about
the pay I worries about。 I suppose to get three dollars a week
—but sometimes Mrs。 Kelly likes a dollar or fifty cents of
paying me the full amount。 Course she always catches up on it
soon as she able。 But it haves a way of leaving me in a pinch。'
〃That is not right；' said Doctor Copeland。 'Why do you stand
for it？'
'It ain't her fault。 She can't help it；' said Portia。 'Half the folks
in that house don't pay the rent； and it a big expense to keep
everthing up。 I tell you the truth—the Kellys is just barely
keeping one jump ahead of the sheriff。 They having a mighty
hard time。'
'There ought to be some other job you can get' 'I know。 But the
Kellys is really grand white peoples to work for。 I really fond
of them as I can be。 Them three little children is just like some
of my own kinfolks。 I feel like I done really raised Bubber and
the baby。 And although Mick and me is always getting into
some kind of quarrel together； I haves a real close fondness
for her； too。' 'But you must think of yourself；' said Doctor
Copeland。
'Mick； now' said Portia。 'She a real case。 Not a
soul know how to manage that child。 She just as biggity and
headstrong as she can be。 Something going on in her72
all the time。 I haves a funny feeling about that child。 It seem to
me that one of these days she going to really surprise
somebody。 But whether that going to be a good surprise or a
bad surprise I just don't know。 Mick puzzle me sometimes。
But still I really fond of her。'
*You must look out for your own livelihood first。'
'As I say； it ain't Mrs。 Kelly's fault It cost so much to run that
big old house and the rent just don't be paid。 Ain't but one
person in the house who pay a decent amount for his room and
pay it on the dot without fail。 And that man only been living
there a short while。 He one of these here deaf…and…dumb folks。
He the first one of them I ever seen close up—but he a mighty
fine white man。9
'Tall； thin； with gray and green eyes？' asked Doctor Copeland
suddenly。 'And always polite to everyone and very well
dressed？ Not like someone from this town— more like a
Northerner or maybe a Jew？'
'That him；' said Portia。
Eagerness came into Doctor Copeland's face。 He crumbled his
hoecake into the collard juice in his plate and began to eat
with a new appetite。 'I have a deaf…mute patient；' he said。
'How come