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asked Portia thickly。
The music stopped。 'Why； Mr。 Blount； I thought you knowed
he was gone。 While you were sitting at the table with your
peach puff he come to the doorway and held out his watch to
show it were time for him to go。 You looked straight at him
and shaken your head。 I thought you knowed that。'
'Maybe I was thinking about something else。' He turned to
Willie and said angrily to him： 'I never did even get to tell you
what I come here for； I didn't come to ask you to do anything。
All I wanted—all I wanted was this。 You and the other boys
were to testify what happened and I was to explain why。 Why
is the only important thing—not what。 I would have pushed
you all around in a wagon and you would have told your story
and afterward I would have ex
253
plained why。 And maybe it might have meant something。
Maybe it'
He felt they were laughing at him。 Confusion caused him to
forget what he had meant to say。 The room was full of dark；
strange faces and the air was too thick to breathe。 He saw a
door and staggered across to it。 He was in a dark closet
smelling of medicine。 Then his hand was turning another
doorknob。
He stood on the threshold of a small white room furnished
only with an iron bed； a cabinet； and two chairs。 On the bed
lay the terrible Negro he had met on the stairs at Singer's
house。 His face was very black against the white； stiff pillows。
The dark eyes were hot with hatred but the heavy； bluish lips
were composed。 His face was motionless as a black mask
except for the slow； wide flutters of his nostrils with each
breath。
'Get out；' the Negro said。
'Wait' Jake said helplessly。 'Why do you say that？'
'This is my house。'
Jake could not draw his eyes away from the Negro's terrible
face。 'But why？'
'You are a white man and a stranger。'
Jake did not leave。 He walked with cumbersome caution to
one of the straight white chairs and seated himself。 The Negro
moved his hands on the counterpane。 His black eyes glittered
with fever。 Jake watched him。 They waited。 In the room there
was a feeling tense as conspiracy or as the deadly quiet before
an explosion。
It was long past midnight。 The warm； dark air of the spring
morning swirled the blue layers of smoke in the room。 On the
floor were crumpled balls of paper and a half…empty bottle of
gin。 Scattered ashes were gray on the counterpane。 Doctor
Copeland pressed his head tensely into the pillow。 He had
removed his dressing…gown and the sleeves of his white cotton
nightshirt were rolled to the elbow。 Jake leaned forward in his
chair。 His tie was loosened and the collar of his shirt had
wilted with sweat Through the hours there had grown between
them a long； exhausting dialogue。 And now a pause had come。
'So the time is ready for' Jake began。254
But Doctor Copeland interrupted him。 'Now it is perhaps
necessary that we' he murmured huskily。 They
halted。 Each looked into the eyes of the other and waited。 'I
beg your pardon；' Doctor Copeland said。
'Sorry；' said Jake。 'Go on。'
'No； you continue。'
'Well' Jake said。 'I won't say what I started to say。
Instead we'll have one last word about the South。 The
strangled South。 The wasted South； The slavish South。'
'And the Negro people。'
To steady himself Jake swallowed a long； burning draught
from the bottle on the floor beside him。 Then deliberately he
walked to the cabinet and picked up a small； cheap globe of
the world that served as a paperweight。 Slowly he turned the
sphere in his hands。 'All I can say is this： The world is full of
meanness and evil。 Huh！ Three fourths of this globe is in a
state of war or oppression。 The liars and fiends are united and
the men who know are isolated and without defense。 But！ But
if you was to ask me to point out the most uncivilized area on
the face of this globe I would point here'
'Watch sharp；' said Doctor Copeland。 'You're out in the ocean。'
Jake turned the globe again and pressed his blunt； grimy
thumb on a carefully selected spot。 'Here。 These thirteen
states。 I know what I'm talking about。 I read books and I go
around。 I been in every damn one of these thirteen states。 I've
worked in every one。 And the reason I think like I do is this：
We live in the richest country in the world。 There's plenty and
to spare for no man； woman； or child to be in want。 And in
addition to this our country was founded on what should have
been a great； true principle—the freedom； equality； and rights
of each individual。 Huh！ And what has come of that start？
There are corporations worth billions of dollars—and
hundreds of thousands of people who don't get to eat。 And
here in these thirteen states the exploitation of human beings
is so that—that it's a thing you got to take in with your own
eyes。 In my life I seen things that would make a man go cra2y。
At least one third of all Southerners live and die no better off
than the lowest peasant in any European Fascist
255
state。 The average wage of a worker on a tenant farm is only
seventy…three dollars per year。 And mind you； that's the
average！ The wages of sharecroppers run from thirty…five to
ninety dollars per person。 And thirty…five dollars a year means
just about ten cents for a full day's work。 Everywhere there's
pellagra and hookworm and anaemia。 And just plain； pure
starvation。 But！' Jake nibbed his lips with the knuckles of his
dirty fist。 Sweat stood out on his forehead。 'But！' he repeated。
Those are only the evils you can see and touch。 The other
things are worse。 I'm talking about the way that the truth has
been hidden from the people。 The things they have been told
so they can't see the truth。 The poisonous lies。 So they aren't
allowed to know。'
'And the Negro；' said Doctor Copeland。 'To understand what is
happening to us you have to'
Jake interrupted him savagely。 'Who owns the South？
Corporations in the North own three fourths of all the South。
They say the old cow grazes all over—in the south； the west；
the north； and the east。 But she's milked in just one place。 Her
old teats swing over just one spot when she's full。 She grazes
everywhere and is milked in New York。 Take our cotton mills；
our pulp mills； our harness factories； our mattress factories。
The North owns them。 And what happens？' Jake's mustache
quivered angrily。 'Here's an example。 Locale； a mill village
according to the great paternal system of American industry。
Absentee ownership。 In the village is one huge brick mill and
maybe four or five hundred shanties。 The houses aren't fit for
human beings to live in。 Moreover； the houses were built to be
nothing but slums in the first place。 These shanties are nothing
but two or maybe three rooms and a privy— built with far less
forethought than barns to house cattle。 Built with far less
attention to needs than sties for pigs。 For under this system
pigs are valuable and men are not。 You can't make pork chops
and sausage out of skinny little mill kids。 You can't sell but
half the people these days。 But a pig'
'Hold on！' said Doctor Copeland。 'You are getting off on a
ta