Village books

"
"I am, sir."
"Good God, Tomwit! you don't imagine I'm comparing a nigger to a
thoroughbred, sir!"
On the street corners, or piled around on cotton-bales down on the wharf,
the negro men of the village discussed the fight. It was for the most
part a purely technical discussion of blows and counters and kicks, and
of the strange fact that a college education failed to enable Siner
utterly to annihilate his adversary. Jim Pink Staggs, a dapper gentleman
of ebony blackness, of pin-stripe flannels and blue serge coat--
altogether a gentleman of many parts--sat on one of the bales and
indolently watched an old black crone fishing from a ledge of rocks just
a little way below the wharf-boat. Around Jim Pink lounged and sprawled
black men and youths, stretching on the cotton-bales like cats in the
sunshine.
Jim Pink was discussing Peter's education.
"I 'fo' Gawd kain't see no use goin' off lak dat an' den comin' back an'
lettin' a white man cheat you out'n yo' hide an' taller, an' lettin' a
black man beat you up tull you has to 'kick him in the spivit.


Pages:
83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107