Village books

" Here he broke out
into his big loose laugh again, and renewed the alcoholic scent around
Peter.
"And you made good?"
"Sho did, black man, an', 'fo' Gawd, I 'serve a medal ef any man ever
did. Dey gimme dish-heah fuh stobbin fo' white men wid a baynit. 'Fo'
Gawd, nigger, I never felt so quare in all my born days as when I wuz a-
jobbin' de livers o' dem white men lak de sahgeant tol' me to." Tump
shook his head, bewildered, and after a moment added, "Yas-suh, I never
wuz mo' surprised in all my life dan when I got dis medal fuh stobbin'
fo' white men."
Peter Siner looked through the Jim Crow window at the vast rotation of
the Kentucky landscape on which his forebears had toiled; presently he
added soberly:
"You were fighting for your country, Tump. It was war then; you were
fighting for your country."
* * * * *
At Jackson, Tennessee, the two negroes were forced to spend the night
between trains. Tump Pack piloted Peter Siner to a negro cafe where they
could eat, and later they searched out a negro lodging-house on Gate
Street where they could sleep.


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