按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
on his chest as though he slept。 But he was not sleeping； now
and then a nervous tremor would pass over his face。 Then he
would breathe deeply and compose his face again。 Smells of
the supper began to fill the stifling room。 In the quietness the
clock on top of the cupboard sounded very loud； and because
of what they had just said to each other the monotonous
ticking was like the word 'chil…dren； chil…dren；' said over and
over。
He was always meeting one of them—crawling naked on a
floor or engaged in a game of marbles or even on a dark street
with his arms around a girl。 Benedict Copeland； the boys were
all called。 But for the girls there were such names as Benny
Mae or Madyben or Benedine Ma…dine。 He had counted one
day； and there were more than a dozen named for him。
But all his life he had told and explained and exhorted。 You
cannot do this； he would say。 There are all reasons why this
sixth or fifth or ninth child cannot be； he would tell them。 It is
not more children we need but more chances for the ones
already on the earth。 Eugenic Parenthood for the Negro Race
was what he would exhort them to。 He would tell them in
simple words； always the same way； and with the years it
came to be a sort of angry poem which he had always known
by heart。
He studied and knew the development of any new theory。 And
from his own pocket he would distribute the devices to his
patients himself。 He was by far the first doctor in the town to
even think of such。 And he would give and explain and give
and tell them。 And then deliver maybe two score times a
week。 Madyben and Benny Mae。
That was only one point。 Only one。
All of his life he knew that there was a reason for his working。
He always knew that he was meant to teach his people。 All
day he would go with his bag from house to house and on all
things he would talk to them。 MCUULLEKS
After the long day a heavy tiredness would come in him。 But
in the evening when he opened the front gate the tiredness
would go away。 There were Hamilton and Karl Marx and
Portia and little William。 There was Daisy； too。
Portia took the lid from the pan on the stove and stirred the
collards with a fork。 'Father—' she said after a while。
Doctor Copeland cleared his throat and spat into a
handkerchief。 His voice was bitter and rough。 'Yes？'
'Less us quit this here quarreling with each other。'
'We were not quarreling；' said Doctor Copeland。
'It don't take words to make a quarrel；' Portia said。 'It look to
me like us is always arguing even when we sitting perfectly
quiet like this。 It just this here feeling I haves。 I tell you the
truth—ever time I come to see you it mighty near wears me
out。 So less us try not to quarrel in any way no more。'
'It is certainly not my wish to quarrel。 I am sorry if you have
that feeling； Daughter。'
She poured out coffee and handed one cup unsweetened to her
father。 In her own portion she put several spoons of sugar。 'I
getting hungry and this will taste good to us。 Drink your
coffee while I tell you something which happened to us a
piece back。 Now that it all over it seem a little bit funny； but
we got plenty reason not to laugh too hard。'
'Go ahead；' said Doctor Copeland。
'Well—sometime back a real fine…looking； dressed…up colored
man come in town here。 He called hisself Mr。 B。 F。 Mason
and said he come from Washington； D。 C。 Ever day he would
walk up and down the street with a walking…cane and a pretty
colored shirt on。 Then at night he would go to the Society
Caf6。 He eaten finer than any man in this town。 Ever night he
would order hisself a bottle of gin and two pork chops for his
supper。 He always had a smile for everybody and was always
bowing around to the girls and holding a door open for you to
come in or go out For about a week he made hisself mighty
pleasant wherever he were。 Peoples begun to ask questions
and wonder about this rich Mr。 B。 F。 Mason。 Then pretty soon；
after he acquaints hisself； he begun to settle down to business。'
Portia spread out her lips and blew into her saucer of
r ncn&i
coffee。 'I suppose you done read in the paper about this
Government Pincher business for old folks？'
Doctor Copeland nodded。 'Pension；' he said。
'Well—he were connected with that。 He were from the
government。 He had to come down from the President in
Washington； D。 C； to join everbody up for the Government
Pinchers。 He went around from one door to the next
explaining how you pay one dollar down to join and after that
twenty…five cents a week—and how when you were forty…five
year old the government would pay you fifty dollars ever
month of your life。 All the peoples I know were very excited
about this。 He give everbody that joined a free picture of the
President with his name signed under it。 He told how at the
end of six months there were going to be free uniforms for
ever member。 The club was called the Grand League of
Pincheners for Colored Peoples— and at the end of two
months everbody was going to get a orange ribbon with a G。
L。 P。 C。 P。 on it to stand for the name。 You know； like all these
other letter things in the government。 He come around from
house to house with this little book and everbody commenced
to join。 He wrote their names down and took the money。 Ever
Saturday he would collect In three weeks this Mr。 B。 F。 Mason
had joined up so many peoples he couldn't get all the way
around on Saturday。 He have to pay somebody to take up the
collections in each three four blocks。 I collected early ever
Saturday for near where we live and got that quarter。 Course
Willie had joined at the beginning for him and Highboy and
me。'
'I have come across many pictures of the President in various
houses near where you live and I remember hearing the name
Mason mentioned；' said Doctor Copeland。 'He was a thief？'
'He were；' said Portia。 'Somebody begun to find out about this
Mr。 B。 F。 Mason and he were arrested。 They find out he were
from just plain Atlanta and hadn't never smelled no
Washington； D。 C； or no President。 All the money were hid or
spent。 Willie had just throwed away seven dollars and fifty
cents。'
Doctor Copeland was excited。 'That is what I mean by—'
c
'In the hereafter；' Portia said； 'that man sure going to66
wake up with a hot pitchfork in his gut。 But now that it all
over it do seem a little bit funny； but of course we got plenty
reason not to laugh too hard。'
'The Negro race of its own accord climbs up on the cross on
every Friday；' said Doctor Copeland。
Portia's hands shook and coffee trickled down from the saucer
she was holding。 She licked it from her arm。 'What ； you
mean？'
'I mean that I am always looking。 I mean that if I could just
find ten Negroes—ten of my own people—with spine and
brains and courage who are wilMng to' give all that
they have'
Portia put down the coffee。 'Us was not talking about anything
like that'
'Only four Negroes；' said Doctor Copeland。 'Only the sum of
Hamilton and Karl Marx and William and you。 Only four
Negroes with these real true qualities and backbone'