EBONY 
 
 OCTAVUS ROY COHEN 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 POLISHED EBONY
 
 Hearin' you is the easiest thing they is." 
 
 Page 288.
 
 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 BY 
 
 OCTAVUS ROY COHEN 
 
 Author of "The Crimson Alibi," etc. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 
 H. WESTON TAYLOR 
 
 NEW YORK 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 
 1919
 
 COPYBIGHT, 1919 
 
 BY OCTAVUS ROY COHEN
 
 ps 
 
 To 
 MY Wire
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 AO 
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 3 
 
 POOL AND GINUWINB 47 
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 93 
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 119 
 
 NOT WISELY BUT Too WELL 145 
 
 BACKFIRE . . 181 
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 213 
 
 POPPY PASSES 243 
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION .... . 275
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 " Heahin' you is the easiest thing they is " 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 PAOZ 
 
 " Semore," she murmured with downcast 
 lids, "I I is totumly misundumstood 
 you" 28 
 
 " Elias' face was pathetic. He stood in his 
 tracks, back against the door, eyes rolling 
 wildly and showing white " 110 
 
 " He crossed the room and hammered on the 
 board wall until it shook " . . 214
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS
 
 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 
 
 URIAS NESBIT paused with his hand on 
 the knob of the front door. From the rear 
 of his cottage there was wafted to his ears 
 the rhythmic swish-swash of soapsuddy lingerie ca- 
 ressing a rubbing board. 
 
 Urias nodded grimly and entered the three-room 
 mansion. He proceeded to the bureau, opened the 
 top drawer, tchk'd petulantly and strode through 
 the kitchen into the yard. 
 
 Elzevir heard the slam of the door and straight- 
 ened her shapely body. Her plump, rounded arms 
 were soapy to the elbows. She sensed the captious 
 antagonism of her husband and carried the war 
 into his country. " Wha's troublin' yo' min' now, 
 'Rias?" 
 
 He frowned with dark disapproval. " Whar yo' 
 di'min' ring is at? 
 
 Elzevir mechanically raised her left hand and 
 glanced at the ringless third finger. Then her 
 teeth clicked together. " You is some naggin' man, 
 'Rias. You know puffectly well my ring is in the 
 top bureau drawer." 
 
 " Yeh," he retorted with biting sarcasm. 
 " Tha's jes' the trouble. I knows whar tis at. I 
 is tol' you a thousan' times a'ready, Elzevir, an' Ise 
 tellin' you again if 'n you leave that ring in yo'
 
 4 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 bureau drawer 'stead of lockin' it up in yo' trunk 
 when you washes, it's gwine be stold jes' sho's hell's 
 a fishpond." 
 
 " Huh ! You is been sayin' that for a yeah. 
 Tain't been stold twell yet." 
 
 " They's folks dyin 1 ev'y day, Elzevir, which aint 
 never died befo' ! " 
 
 He turned away and was safely within the house 
 before a fitting retort came to her lips. He made 
 his way once more to the bureau drawer and took 
 therefrom a diamond ring of scintillant brilliance. 
 
 For sixty-three weeks Urias Nesbit had paid on 
 that ring. One hundred and twenty-five dollars 
 had been expended for the stone in instalments of 
 two dollars each Saturday afternoon. That had 
 been in the days when the elusive coyness of the 
 regal Elzevir bade fair to put Urias permanently 
 into the matrimonial discard. The ring had won 
 her. And so they were married. 
 
 That diamond ring was the guarantee of Elze- 
 vir's social eminence. At first there had been 
 skeptics numbering legion who questioned the 
 genuineness of the stone, but they had been ef- 
 fectively squelched by the triumphant Elzevir who 
 invariably convoyed them to a jeweller of unim- 
 peachable integrity for an appraisement. And as 
 there wasn't a jeweller in the city who did not in- 
 stantly value the ring at anywhere from a hundred 
 and twenty-five to a hundred and fifty dollars, its 
 reputation quickly spread and by her diamond 
 Elzevir became known. 
 
 But the diamond was the lone sign of affluence 
 about the Nesbit menage. Somehow work and 
 Urias didn't get along very well together. The
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 5 
 
 best he had ever been able to do was seven dollars 
 a week some weeks. The instinct of self-preser- 
 vation had driven Elzevir to take in two family 
 washings per week at one dollar and a half each. 
 To her surprise she did not lose caste. Other so- 
 ciety queens had been dethroned for less. And 
 Elzevir correctly guessed that because she was pos- 
 sessed of a hundred-and-twenty-five dollar diamond 
 ring, the taking in of a couple of washings was 
 catalogued among the justifiable eccentricities of 
 the wealthy. 
 
 She paid the diamond full homage. The Tif- 
 fany setting was kept immaculately clean. The 
 stone itself sparkled elegantly from the brown 
 background of her finger. It was the supreme joy 
 of her existence, the fetich to save which she had 
 more than once cheerfully faced hunger. Once, 
 during a long, jobless period, Urias had insisted 
 that she pawn the gem. "Di'min's is all right, 
 Elzevir, but they is no good if'n you is sta'vin' to 
 death." 
 
 " This heah ring gwine stay whar it is at which 
 is on my finger, 'Rias. If'n I die fum starvin' be- 
 cause you is too lazy to wuk then I reckon it'll 
 look gran' on my corpse." 
 
 But all of her passionate love for the ring could 
 not emancipate Elzevir from her cardinal weak- 
 ness. She was careless. For instance, she had 
 for months been cognizant of the fact that one of 
 the prongs was badly worn and that there was 
 grave danger of some day losing the stone. For 
 months she had conscientiously meant to see a 
 jeweller and have a new prong installed but a 
 thousand and one things had prevented.
 
 6 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Again, during the arduous hours of her twice- 
 weekly washing seances she invariably slipped the 
 ring from her finger and placed it in the top drawer 
 of her bureau : a drawer the lock of which had long 
 ceased to be of any save ornamental value. Her 
 husband had scolded her about it chided her so 
 frequently and earnestly that his criticism had de- 
 generated into mere nagging. According to his 
 views the treasure should, on wash days, be care- 
 fully locked in her trunk: a trunk being to the 
 negro what a steel deposit vault is to his more 
 Caucasian brother. 
 
 And Elzevir meant to do it. She always meant 
 to do the right thing. But the bureau drawer was 
 handy and she was regularly a half-hour late in 
 starting . . . and the ring was inevitably dropped 
 carelessly into the bureau drawer. 
 
 Urias's fears for its safety were well grounded. 
 The ring was famed in coloured social circles and 
 he realized that the neighbours must know that 
 when washing for the white folks, Elzevir was with- 
 out it. He knew, too, that while she was washing 
 clothes in the back yard any larcenous individual 
 could enter the front door, conduct a thorough 
 search, find the ring and extract it from its hid- 
 ing place and vamoose undetected. 
 
 " Jes' like'n to a woman," he soliloquized bitterly. 
 " She ain't never gwine re'lize what that ring is 
 ontil it's stold fum her." 
 
 He left the house in high dudgeon and traced his 
 steps downtown. Near the L. & N. crossing which 
 divides the north and south sides of the city he 
 almost collided with a young overalled negro who 
 pulled up short, grinned with delight and clutched
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 7 
 
 his arm eagerly. " I is been lookin' for you ev'y- 
 where, 'Rias." 
 
 "Is you?" 
 
 " Sho' is. Got a few minutes to spare? " 
 
 " Spare time," answered Urias gloomily, " is the 
 on'y thing I ain't got anythin' else but." 
 
 "You ain't wukin'?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " How come? " 
 
 " Me'n my boss ain't been gittin' 'long so well 
 for some time so I thought I better quit." 
 
 " 'Rias," interrogated the other intensely, " how'd 
 you like to make a hund'ed dollars cash 'thout doin' 
 no wuk? " 
 
 Urias glared severely at his companion. " Cass 
 Driggers, you might's well on'erstan' I ain't in no 
 jokin' humour." 
 
 " Nor neither I ain't. Ise plumb serious." 
 
 " Huh ! When you makes talk like what you 
 is doin', you is plumb foolish." 
 
 Cass's voice took on a nuance of pleading earn- 
 estness. " Tain't so, 'Rias. They's a chancst for 
 I an' you to make a hund'ed dollars each easy. 
 'Thout doin' no wuk a tall. An' seein' as I an' you 
 is good frien's, Ise lettin' you in fifty-fifty." 
 
 " Splain it, Cass an' if'n you ain't want me to 
 git pow'ful mad, you loocidate it tho'ough an' com- 
 plete." 
 
 " Heah's the how of it, 'Rias. For th'ee months 
 sencst I been wukin' as a mechanic down to the 
 'Celsior gyrage I is been teachin' a white genie- 
 man name of Cap'n Zacharias Foster how to run 
 a new flivver which he done bought. It been jes' 
 about a hopeless job 'cause'n he's one of them they
 
 S POLISHED EBONY 
 
 men which je&> wa'nt bohn to run no autymobile. 
 This mawnin' I gits a telyphone call fum him. He 
 says he's out on the Potterville road him an 
 what's lef of the flivver. I got the wreckin' car 
 an' driv out. They was jes' 'bout as much lef 
 of his clothes as they was of the car an' he 
 was most nekkid. I prized him up an' driv him 
 
 in. 
 
 " If'n yo'd ever wukked 'round a gyrage, 'Rias, 
 yo'd know they is two kin's of men whut owns 
 autymobiles. One kin' loves 'em an' t'other kin' 
 hates 'em. They ain't no inbetwix'. I is seen 'em 
 all but I ain't nev' saw no man so sick of -autymo- 
 biles as whut Cap'n Zacharias Foster was this 
 mawnin'. 
 
 " * I'd sell that oP junkpile for sevumty-five dol- 
 lars,' he said. 
 
 " ' Huh ! Cap'n,' I comes back. * You is the jok- 
 ines' man ! ' 
 
 " With that he swears the mos' elegant I ev' did 
 heah. 'I mean it,' he growls. 
 
 " ' Bet'n you woul'n't put that in writin',' I says. 
 
 " I knowed he was a pow'ful sot feller an' sho 
 nuff he pulls out a notebook an' writ out a 'gree- 
 ment to sell me that car for sevumty-five dollars 
 if'n I perduced the cash in fohty-eight hours. 
 An'," as Urias showed symptoms of interrupting, 
 " that ain't noways the all of it, neither. 'Rias 
 I is got that car sol' for th'ee hund'ed dollars soon's 
 I fix it up a bit." 
 
 Urias turned toward Cass Driggers a face 
 wreathed in superlative contempt. "What is I 
 got to do with all this? " 
 
 "You is the feller," explained Cass blandly,
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 9 
 
 " what is gwine put up the sevumty-five dollars ! " 
 
 " Haw ! " returned Urias with ponderous sar- 
 casm. "You is foolish as you look. How come 
 you to git the idee in yo' haid I is got sevumty-five 
 dollars? " 
 
 " I ain't. But you is gwine git it." 
 
 " I ain't nev' yit been in jail, an' " 
 
 " Lis'en heah, 'Rias : they ain't no trouble 'bout 
 me gitten the money. Reckon Flo'ian Slappey'd 
 lemme it if n I'd take him in on the deal, or I could 
 git Semore Mashby to do it " 
 
 Urias clutched his short, dumpy friend by a 
 greasy shoulder. " If'n you was ev' to give Semore 
 Mashby the oppomtunity to make money, Cass, I'd 
 plumb ruint you. That oP jack-face' monkey is 
 so tight 'bout'n money he ties chains to his dimes. 
 Semore Mashby, Cass, is a discredick to the col- 
 oured race an' sides, he is got too much money 
 a'ready." 
 
 Cass nodded vehement agreement. " Ise with 
 you in all what you says bout'n Semore Mashby, 
 'Rias. I woul'n't enter into no business deal with 
 that man on'y if'n I had to. But I is savin' I c'n 
 git the money a' right. They's Flo'ian Slappey: 
 he's the on'y an' original take-a-chancst feller, an' 
 fust off I thought I'd go to him, but I says to my- 
 se'f : * Cass Driggers,' I says, ' 'Rias Nesbit an' 
 you is been buddies sencst you was kids an' if'n 
 they's more'n two hund'ed dollars profit gwine be 
 divided up seems like you owes him a slice of it.' 
 Tha's jes' zac'ly what I says to myse'f, 'Rias, jes' 
 like that which is how come I to decide I an' you 
 is gwine split up them they profits." 
 
 Urias shook a perturbed head. " You is speakin'
 
 10 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 silly. I ain't got no sevumty-five dollars an' you 
 know it." 
 
 " Sho' I does. But worser men'n you is made 
 money what they ain't nev' had befo'." 
 
 " I got zac'ly th'ee dollars, fo' bits an' a dime, 
 Cass. I ain't hahdly prospec' tha's enough to buy 
 no autymobile." 
 
 "Woul'n't Elzevir like bout'n a hund'ed dol- 
 lars?" 
 
 " Her ! If n Elzevir ev' seen that money all to 
 oncet I'd be a widdier." 
 
 " Sho' nuff. Tha's jes' what I says to myse'f. 
 I says : ' Cass Driggers,' I says, l 'Bias is yo' buddy 
 an' Elzevir is his wife, an' Elzevir is a broad 
 'ooman " 
 
 " Crost the hips mebbe. But if n you is makin' 
 talk 'bout gitten Elzevir interes' in 'vestin' sev- 
 umty-five dollars . . . anyways, Cass she jes' 
 ain't got it!" 
 
 Cass lowered his voice discreetly. " She is got 
 it, too!" 
 
 "Elzevir?" 
 
 "Uh-huh!" 
 
 " Sevumty-five dollars? " 
 
 " Yeh." 
 
 " You is absotively an' entirely crazy, Cass Drig- 
 gers. If n autymobiles was sellin' for ten dollars 
 apiece each me'n Elzevir between us coul'n't buy 
 a puncture. Whar you git that notion 'bout Elze- 
 vir havin' sevumty-five dollars? " 
 
 " Her di'min' ring ! " sibilated Cass eagerly. 
 " OF Semore Mashby is a lookin' man when it comes 
 to good s'curity an' he'd easy leave us have sevumty- 
 five on that ring, an' "
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 11 
 
 " They's a train leavin' fum heah in twen'y min- 
 utes, Cass/' remarked his tall friend with heavy 
 irony. " Bes' thing for you to do is to take that 
 train, git off at Tuscaloosa an' enter right into the 
 'sane asylim. If n they balks 'bout lettin' you in, 
 you jes' tell 'em you got the idee Elzevir'd let that 
 ring git away fum her even for a minute . . . 
 tell 'em that, Cass, an' they is gwine make you they 
 stah bo'der." 
 
 " But they is a hund'ed dollars cl'ar profit for 
 you, 'Rias. Ain't you hankering none a tall for a 
 hund'ed dollars?" 
 
 " Hund'ed dollars ain't no good to a daid man." 
 
 " You is sho' Elzevir woul'n't " 
 
 " I is sho' that if 'n I was to siggest it to Elzevir 
 they woul'n't be nothin' lef on my shoulders but 
 a li'l piece of neck." 
 
 Cass shook his head dolefully and tramped along 
 in sombre silence. "I I kinder sispected yo'd 
 take it thisaway, 'Rias an' so I done had another 
 idee." 
 
 " If'n tain't no better'n that fust one yo'd better 
 leave it stay whar it is at." 
 
 " It's a good idee, 'Rias an' it'd wuk if 'n you 
 was a man with any cou'age jes' even a li'l bit 
 of cou'age. . . ." 
 
 " I ain't nev' been no coward, Cass." 
 
 " Bout'n some things you is." 
 
 "Name which?" 
 
 "Elzevir!" 
 
 " There you goes ag'in 
 
 "Lis'en heah to what I is sayin', 'Rias. Elze- 
 vir's got a di'min which is wuth a hund'ed an' fifty 
 dollars, easy. If'n we was to try an' pawn that
 
 12 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ring wt couFn't git more'n fifty dollars or mebbe 
 fohty. But Semore Mashby'd let us have sevumty- 
 five " 
 
 "Goo'-bye, Cass. I gits ne'vous when I talks 
 with a crazy man." 
 
 " Wait a minute. Heah me th'ough. Me'n you 
 is buddies, 'Bias, an' if n somebody is got to git a 
 hund'ed dollars off'n me, I'd a heap ruther it was 
 you. Now I got it all figgered out how we c'n raise 
 that sevumty-five dollars an' ifn yo'll lemnie 
 splain " 
 
 " Go ahead," commanded 'Bias with weary hope- 
 lessness in the grip of a desire to humour his 
 friend's infirmity, " but be sho' you splain it tho'- 
 ough." 
 
 Cass perked up with enthusiasm. " Heah's the 
 how of it. A di'min' ring is a di'min' ring, an' ifn 
 a 'ooman is got one she is salisfied. Now my idee 
 is that we is gwine borry Elzevir's di'min ring 
 on'y she ain't gwine know nothin' about we is done 
 so!" 
 
 " Tha's a fine idee, Cass. An' w'en we finishes 
 doin' that mebbe we is gwine borry the Chinnerses 
 baby off'n Truman an' Orpha an' they ain't gwine 
 know it, neither." 
 
 " Babies is diff'ent f urn di'min's, 'Bias. We is 
 gwine borry yo' wife's di'min' but she ain't gwine 
 know it because we is gwine put another di'min' 
 back in the place of the one we borries ! " 
 
 " Ifn you is got a di'min' a'ready what you wants 
 with mine? " 
 
 " Ain't got one yit. We is got to buy it fust." 
 
 "With my th'ee dollars?" sarcastically. 
 
 " Yeh. They on'y costs two dollars an' a halft."
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 13 
 
 " Beckon you ain't know no more bout'n di'min's 
 than what you does 'bout wifes." 
 
 "Les'n heah to what I is sayin', 'Rias. We is 
 gwine downtown an' buy a immytation di'min' fum 
 off'n that feller on Secon' Avenue. It's glass in 
 course, but they ain't nobody less'n a jooler could 
 tell it, 'cause it's set in ten yeah goF plate. 
 
 " Then," he continued radiantly, " we is gwine 
 to yo' house tomorry while Elzevir is doin' the Car- 
 ruthers' washin' I is hea'd you scoP her a-plen'y 
 bout'n she leaves her ring in the bureau drawer 
 w'en she washes. We is gwine borry her ring an' 
 leave the immytation in the place of it. An' seein' 
 as they looks jes' alike she is gwine put it on an' nev' 
 be no wiser. Tha's where rings is diff'ent fum 
 chillun." Cass paused to inspect the face of his 
 friend and noted with satisfaction that he had made 
 a vast impression. He drove his advantage home 
 in sledge-hammer fashion. 
 
 " I is gwine take that ring so's you won't be 
 mixed up in it none a tall an' borry sevumty-five 
 dollars fum off Semore Mashby on it at five dollars 
 int'res'. Then Ise gwine buy that flivver off'n 
 Cap'n Zacharias Foster an' fix it up, the gyrage 
 givin' me credick fo' the twen'y dollars wuth of 
 materials I need. I ain't gwine cha'ge you nothin' 
 for my labour. Then I gwine sell the car for th'ee 
 hund'ed dollars, pay Semore Mashby the eighty 
 what we is gwine be owin' him, settle with the 
 gyrage, split the difT ence with you an' sneak Elze- 
 vir's ring back ag'in. You think it over, 'Rias, an' 
 see if'n I is as crazy as what you thought I was." 
 
 Urias thought it over. The scheme was flawless. 
 u You is sho' you can sell the car? "
 
 14 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Sho' ain't even the word, 'Rias. I can sell it 
 for th'ee hund'ed easy. They is somethin' 'bout a 
 secon'-han' flivver, 'Bias, which gives white folks 
 the itch in they money pockets. Beckon they think 
 they is gittin' nothin' for less. I asts you for the 
 las' time is you with me? " 
 
 Urias didn't have a chance. He battled desper- 
 ately with his conscience and his ingrained terror 
 of a militant spouse. Arrayed on the other side 
 was his passion for money and plenty of it and 
 a hundred dollars all in one luscious lump was 
 more than he had dreamed of in his most avari- 
 cious mental orgies. And finally albeit trem- 
 blingly he informed Cass Driggers that he was 
 with him. The die was cast and if Urias felt 
 like unto the trembling surgical victim who fear- 
 fully inhales his first paralysing whiff of ether 
 while eyeing a glittering array of knives and 
 clamps, he did not show it by other than a slight 
 greenish pallor under his rich brown skin. 
 
 He voiced only one doubt. " You you ain't 
 gittin' me into nothin', is you, Cass? " 
 
 "Meanin' which?" 
 
 " They ain't possibly gwine be no slip 'bout sellin' 
 that car? " 
 
 "Huh! You is just makin' sounds with yo' 
 voice, 'Rias. You ain't talkin' a tall." 
 
 They proceeded to an almost- jewelry store on 
 Second Avenue where for twenty minutes they pot- 
 tered around purple velvet trays. They laid aside 
 a half-dozen " as good as the real thing only an 
 expert can tell them" diamonds, and from that 
 half dozen made a choice. 
 
 The brummagem brilliance of the ultimate selec-
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 15 
 
 tion allayed to some slight extent the doubts which 
 clung, fungus-like, in Urias's congenitally guileless 
 breast. He was forced to admit that he couldn't, 
 to save his life, have distinguished the imitation 
 stone with its plated setting from the genuine blue- 
 white and its fourteen-karat mounting. 
 
 "Think Elzevir'll know the diffe'nce?" de- 
 manded Cass triumphantly as they left the store. 
 
 " Not less'n she's a wizzid," answered the con- 
 siderably relieved Urias. 
 
 Knowing that he was on the eve of borrowing 
 without her consent the gem which headlighted 
 her way along the topmost social stratum, Urias 
 Nesbit was unusually considerate of his wife's feel- 
 ings that night. They walked to town and howled 
 deliriously through four acts of a moss-eaten farce 
 which was playing a two-day visit to the city. 
 Their two tickets had cost all of four bits and 
 their seats were in the front row of the super- 
 gallery which does not exist in the north and which 
 is known south of the Line as Buzzard Roost or 
 Nigger Heaven. 
 
 The following morning Urias hung doubtfully 
 around the garage where Cass Driggers was em- 
 ployed. Cass was labouring skilfully over what 
 had once been a proud and valiant flivver. About 
 eleven in the morning a distinguished, hatchet- 
 faced gentleman swung into the repair shop and 
 stood eyeing the wreckage with a baleful stare. 
 
 " What are you doing, Cass? " 
 
 Driggers straightened and bobbed his head an 
 inherited courtesy which he reserved for those espe- 
 cially distinguished southern white folks in the 
 light of whose approval he desired to bask.
 
 16 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Howdye, Cap'n Foster. How you is f eelin' this 
 mawnin', suh?" 
 
 " As miserable as that mess looks. I'm through 
 with automobiles, Cass." 
 
 " You is gwine git ov' that feelin', Cap'n Foster. 
 They all does!" 
 
 " Not I. I wish I could sell the thing for junk." 
 
 " You is gwine sell it, Boss-man. An' I is gwine 
 buy it. 'Member our 'greement bout'n that sev- 
 umty-five dollars?" 
 
 " You don't mean you contemplate paying sev- 
 enty-five dollars for that bunch of tin? " 
 
 " Sho' is, Boss ; by tomorry afternoon." 
 
 Mr. Zacharias Foster withered Cass with a glare 
 of supreme contempt. "Cass Driggers," he 
 snapped. " You haven't the sense of an ape ! " 
 
 After he had left Urias took his place near the 
 repair pit and gazed upon the ex-automobile. 
 " You reckon you c'n r'illy fix her up, Cass? " 
 
 "Huh! 'Rias, these heah cars is like snakes. 
 You c'n cut 'em in half but they goes right on. 
 Hones', it takes th'ee wrecks to get 'em goin' good." 
 
 Urias was sceptical. During lunch he kept his 
 eyes away from the brilliant ring which shone 
 splendidly from the finger of his consort. He was 
 gradually becoming alive to the fact that if any- 
 thing went wrong he was holding the bag. He 
 admired his friend's loyalty in wishing to donate 
 to him one hundred dollars, but he was acutely con- 
 scious that Cass Driggers was risking nothing. 
 
 When he reached the garage at two o'clock he 
 was aflame with open rebellion. But his mistrust 
 disappeared like magic at sight of the reincarnation 
 which confronted him.
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS IT 
 
 Cass had worked fast and expertly. Bent fend- 
 ers had been straightened, an axle treated likewise, 
 a new wheel provided, one casing vulcanized, new 
 lenses placed in the headlights (Cass confided long 
 afterwards that he had used window-glass), the car 
 had been washed and polished and the top put up 
 and dusted. " One graham cracker an' a glass of 
 milk in 'er radiator an' she'll be better'n new," 
 exulted Cass. 
 
 Urias was converted. In the face of his friend's 
 mechanical legerdemain he hadn't the heart to 
 withdraw. The glittery beauty of the car im- 
 pressed him vastly. " Ought to git fo' hund'ed for 
 that," he muttered. 
 
 By three o'clock the conspirators reached the 
 neighbourhood which Mr. and Mrs. Urias Nesbit 
 graced with their presence. Urias reconnoitred 
 meticulously, ascertained positively that his wife 
 was engaged in divorcing certain pieces of Car- 
 ruthers linen from more or less dirt, and pussy- 
 footed nervously through the front door. 
 
 He opened the bureau drawer. The real dia- 
 mond sparkled a welcome. He acted swiftly 
 speed being a virtue. The fake diamond was sub- 
 stituted and Urias retreated precipitately. From 
 the corner he paused to observe the swaying form 
 of his wife who laboured earnestly over the wash- 
 tub. 
 
 Cass relieved his friend of the ring and de- 
 parted joyfully townward. " Gwine see OF Semore 
 Mashby an' raise that sevumty-five dollars," he 
 proclaimed. " Yo'd better not come with me if'n 
 you ain't want Semore to sispec' whar I got this 
 heah ring at."
 
 18 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Urias parted from his friend and his ring re- 
 luctantly. He gloomed down the street to Bud 
 Peaglar's Barbecue Lunch Room & Billiard Parlour 
 and was soon immersed in a free-for-all game of 
 Kelly Pool at two bits per player. He won two of 
 the first three games and temporarily forgot to 
 worry about the diamond. 
 
 But at the very instant that Urias pocketed 
 with much gusto his own eight ball, collecting 
 therefor a net profit of one dollar and forty cents, 
 things were happening at his home. 
 
 Elzevir had finished her washing. She entered 
 the house, changed her waist and applied a guar- 
 anteed-to-make-kinky-hair-straight tonic to her ra- 
 ven tresses. Then she opened her bureau drawer 
 and reverently picked up the ring which glittered 
 adorably in its nest. Idly she slipped it on her 
 finger. 
 
 It got as far as the bony knuckle ! 
 
 And there it balked ! 
 
 A slight frown corrugated her chocolate fore- 
 head. She pushed the ring. It cut into the flesh 
 but obstinately refused to proceed beyond the 
 knuckle. A tremor of apprehension shook her 
 shapely form. 
 
 Urias Nesbit and Cass Driggers had slipped. 
 They had expended a vast amount of mental effort 
 in selecting a ring which was the apparent dupli- 
 cate of the one which they borrowed. But to them 
 a ring was a ring. They had totally forgotten that 
 rings have sizes and that the one they had substi- 
 tuted was about three sizes too small for Elzevir's 
 finger ! 
 
 The knuckle refused passage to the ring. Tiny
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 19 
 
 beads of perspiration appeared on Elzevir's brow. 
 She inspected the ring closely and her most awful 
 fears were confirmed. Her ring boasted a sadly 
 worn and defective prong. The prongs of this 
 usurper were new and flawless. Elzevir dropped 
 limply into a wicker chair. 
 
 " Oh ! my Gawd ! " she groaned. " My di'inin' is 
 done been stold! Ol' 'Rias is gwine give me the 
 devil an' some, sho' nuff ! " 
 
 It was all very plain to her. In some way news 
 of her carelessness with the family Koh-I-Noor had 
 become bruited about. Perhaps Urias himself had 
 told of it. A covetous, unscrupulous gentleman 
 had thereupon stolen it, substituting an imitation 
 in order to postpone discovery as long as possible. 
 
 The gloom of the ages descended in one great 
 gob on the shoulders of Elzevir Nesbit. She bowed 
 supinely under the burden of woe which had been 
 heaved at her. That Urias was the culprit she 
 never dreamed. He, like Caesar's wife, was miles 
 above suspicion. Besides, she knew that he didn't 
 have the nerve. 
 
 As the horror of the situation banged itself with 
 trip-hammer blows into her consciousness she saw 
 one fact staring her in the face. Urias must not 
 know of the loss ! He must, at all hazards, be kept 
 in ignorance. For the first time in her married 
 life Elzevir knew fear of her husband. 
 
 She thought it over from every conceivable an- 
 gle. She reinspected the ring. It was a beautiful 
 ring: even she in her misery gave credit for that 
 much. She knew that if it could be made to fit her 
 finger, Urias would never suspect the substitution. 
 She was a woman of action. Twenty minutes
 
 20 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 later she entered a second-class downtown jewelry 
 store. She laid the ring on the counter : " Wha's 
 that wuth, white folks? " 
 
 The expert flipped it contemptuously. " Dollar 
 and a half probably." 
 
 " How much'll it cost me to delarge it to fit my 
 finger right now? " 
 
 He named his price and she nodded grimly. 
 Forty minutes later she left the store with the cut 
 glass glowing in noble camouflage from her finger. 
 She felt slightly better. But even yet the future 
 was drab with the sadness of irrecoverable loss, 
 although Elzevir was concerned principally with 
 the present and its chances of detection. For the 
 moment she seemed safe. 
 
 If only Urias hadn't been so passionately per- 
 sistent with his warnings. If only his fervid dia- 
 tribes on the subject of her carelessness had been 
 less frequent. In that event she might have dared 
 the truth. But now she knew that at any cost he 
 must be kept in ignorance. 
 
 She was safe socially. So often had her ring 
 been professionally appraised in the presence of 
 sceptical witnesses that there remained no con- 
 scientious doubters in darktown. And so she de- 
 termined upon a career of deception, hoping that 
 it might exist until it became a habit. Should 
 Urias learn of her loss, her tenure as head of the 
 family would be at an end. Elzevir set her lips, 
 stifled her grief and went home to prepare dinner. 
 
 Meanwhile Cass D riggers was progressing very 
 well indeed with Semore Mashby. 
 
 Semore doubted the genuineness of Cass's prof- 
 fered security. Cass conducted him triumphantly
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 21 
 
 to the best jewelry store in town and had the most 
 expert expert in that store appraise the stone. 
 " Hundred and fifty dollars," was the instantaneous 
 verdict. Semore was convinced. He produced the 
 seventy-five dollars from a capacious wallet, wrote 
 a receipt and an I. O. U. for eighty dollars pay- 
 able in thirty days and pocketed the ring. 
 
 Both men were content. Semore was happy be- 
 cause there was more than an even chance that 
 Cass would not redeem the ring and also because 
 even if he did Semore would have profited at the 
 rate of eighty per cent per annum, which is slightly 
 more than is allowed under the Alabama usury 
 laws. 
 
 Cass was happy because with Semore's loan he 
 stood to clear two hundred dollars for himself 
 and his pal . . . and he chortled with glee as he 
 contemplated the day of the money's return, at 
 which time he would tell Semore of the wealth be- 
 gotten with his money. 
 
 Semore Mashby was about as popular with his 
 coloured brethren as a policeman with a gang of 
 crap-shooters. He was tall and angular and 
 shifty-eyed and had developed canniness to a 
 high art. He loved to make money almost as much 
 as he hated to see others do likewise. He was mis- 
 anthropic and miserly. Each dollar that dropped 
 into the pocket of his frayed coat clinked twice 
 once for itself and once for the dollar it was des- 
 tined to earn. 
 
 But as heartily as Semore was disliked, just so 
 heartily was he feared. His wealth by dark- 
 town standards put that of Croesus into the also- 
 ran class. He was the last refuge of desperate
 
 22 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 darkies who needed money on any terms and didn't 
 have collateral satisfactory to licensed pawnbrok- 
 ers. Semore handled any collateral cheerfully, 
 willingly lending on such stuff as came his way as 
 much as fifteen per cent of the forced-sale value. 
 Of course a diamond was different. That was high 
 finance. 
 
 And so darktown hated Semore Mashby: hated 
 him passionately and single-mindedly. If there 
 was any unanimity of feeling among the negroes 
 of the community it was in the desire to sting Se- 
 more for even a modest portion of his bankroll. 
 " If'n I could once do Semore Mashby out'n a dol- 
 lar," Urias had often articulated, "I'd be buried 
 smilin'." 
 
 For the man who succeeded in parting Semore 
 from any of his coin there was waiting a universal 
 acclaim. Several had tried it with results dis- 
 astrous to themselves. But it was understood that 
 there was open season on Semore's bankroll three 
 hundred and sixty-five days in the year. 
 
 So much the public knew of Semore Mashby: 
 so much and no more. He was looked upon as a 
 dried fig of humanity, a bloodless entity from which 
 all semblance of softness had been squashed. 
 Above all, he bore reputation as a misogynist. And 
 of all things in the catalog, Semore Mashby was not 
 that. 
 
 Vistar Goins was her name, a delectable creamy- 
 brown creature of luscious curves and full red 
 lips; a vivacious, pert-tongued little thing whose 
 elan set Semore's heart to thumping madly beneath 
 his threadbare shirt. 
 
 Vistar was a woman of keen perception and nice
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 23 
 
 discretion. She was dazzled by Semore's wealth 
 but wary of his tight-fistedness. She realized that 
 a wealthy husband is an asset only when his wealth 
 circulates out as well as in. 
 
 Vistar had a sneaking desire to marry Semore. 
 More than once she had been tempted to take a 
 chance : not because he had awakened in her maid- 
 enly breast any grand passion but because he had 
 the wherewithal to insure her physical comfort to 
 the end of her days provided he would. But 
 she was afraid that after the rose-and-rapture pe- 
 riod of the honeymoon she would find herself still 
 engaged as maid-of-all-work at some fashionable 
 South Highlands home with part of her weekly 
 earnings swelling the considerable Mashby fortune. 
 
 " If'n I ev' seen that man spen' a dollar where 
 they wa'n't th'ee dollars comin' back to him, I'd 
 marry him quick," she had informed her best friend 
 more than once, " but I is skeered to take chaucsts. 
 Semore ain't even a member of the Over The River 
 Buryin' Sassiety 'cause even if it on'y costs ten 
 cents a week he'd have to be daid to c'lect an' that 
 ain't his way of doin' business." 
 
 However, the delicious Vistar was too adroit to 
 let Semore go entirely. For a year she had kept 
 him dangling disgruntedly. For a year his pas- 
 sion for her had mounted in inverse ratio to her 
 unattainability. His shiny, russet -black suit 
 flapping about the skinny, angular frame like the 
 clipped wings of a bald-headed buzzard trying to 
 take flight, served as a warning. If he wouldn't 
 buy himself a new suit it was self-evident that he 
 would be chary of expending real money for wifely 
 raiment. And fine clothes were as necessary to
 
 24 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Vistar's happiness and well-being as colours are 
 necessary to the rainbow. 
 
 He called upon her the night of his little business 
 transaction with Cass Driggers. He was at peace 
 with the world. Only that day he had summarily 
 foreclosed a chattel mortgage on some cotton which 
 had been grown by an old-fashioned, painfully un- 
 businesslike darkey living a few miles from the city. 
 He had promptly sold the two bales at a net profit 
 on the deal of more than seventy dollars. He gazed 
 upon Vistar with a warm and appreciative eye. 
 His protestations of love were even more fervid 
 than usual but there was a new note in his declara- 
 tion of eternal and liberal affection. 
 
 Vistar Goins sensed that the answer she returned 
 this night must be final. 
 
 "I I reckon you wa'n't hahdly bolm to be a 
 husband, Semore." 
 
 "Huh? Wha's the matter with me? Ain't I 
 the richest nigger in this heah town? " 
 
 " Sho' is I reckon. But they ain't nobody c'n 
 prove it 'ceptin' the cashier at the bank." 
 
 " Tha's what makes good credick, Hon." 
 
 " Credick don' nev' git nobody nothin' if n 'tain't 
 nev' took adwantage of. You know, Semore, I is 
 a pow'ful free spender." 
 
 " Tha's because you is single," returned Semore 
 tolerantly. "A married 'ooman ain't got no use 
 for fancy clothes." 
 
 "An' I reckon yo'd spec' yo' wife to wuk, 
 woul'n't you?" 
 
 " Wuk," proclaimed Semore sententiously, " ain't 
 never hu't no one. If n you wan'ed to wuk I reckon 
 I'd be broad-minded enough not to stop you."
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 25 
 
 "But s'pose Idi'n't?" 
 
 Semore smiled enigmatically. "Well, if'n that 
 was the case " Something in his smile decided 
 her. It was at one time a concession and an iron 
 warning. It seemed to threaten : " Once you is 
 married to me you is gwine want to wuk ! " Re- 
 luctantly knowing that it was her last chance 
 Vistar took the plunge. She shook her head 
 
 " Reckon I cain't do it, Semore/' 
 
 It was the first time her refusal had been un- 
 qualified by some ray of hope. Semore bent skin- 
 nily forth in his red plush chair, gripping the bat- 
 tered arms with talon-like fingers. " You you 
 mean you ain't nev' gwine marry with me?" 
 
 She sighed. " Reckon not, Semore. Me'n you 
 wa'n't meant for each other/' 
 
 A good deal of the calculating harshness disap- 
 peared. He was stunned by her refusal. It had 
 never occurred to him that he would not eventually 
 be accepted. He had fancied that the lure of his 
 wealth was too much for any dusky damsel to re- 
 sist. " Ise rich," he faltered. 
 
 "Guess so. But me I is always said I was 
 gwine marry for love. . . . Yo'd better go, Semore, 
 'cause this heah intumview is painful for the both 
 of us/' 
 
 He rose. " I is comin 1 back - 
 
 " 'Tain't no use. I ain't nev' gwine marry you." 
 
 " But, Honey. . . ." 
 
 "Goo'-bye, Semore. You is gwine fin' another 
 gal soon what you will like her better'n me. Guess 
 I ain't wo'thy of you, nohow." 
 
 He turned toward the door in a daze. He knew 
 that her answer was final and he simulated a trag-
 
 26 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 edy which he did not feel however great a blow 
 his pride had received. At that, he had really 
 wanted to marry Vistar. She was a woman to do 
 any man proud. She would be as great satisfac- 
 tion as a first mortgage on city real estate. And 
 she was turning him down. 
 
 He stood uncertainly before her, swaying like a 
 great blackbird on the rundown heels of his enor- 
 mous shoes. His ancient Prince Albert coat was 
 pushed back, his fingers shoved into the pockets of 
 his much-mended grey vest. His expression showed 
 equal portions of lugubriosity and surprise. He 
 had not expected this. " Nev' can tell bout'n 
 wimmin. . . ." His fingers brushed against some- 
 thing hard. He frowned then remembered the 
 ring he had that day received as security from Cass 
 Driggers. 
 
 He drew it forth and inspected it glumly. The 
 light from the electric bulb struck it full and re- 
 flected dazzlingly into the- popping eyes of Vistar 
 Coins. Realizing that he was making his final 
 exit from the list of Vistar's matrimonial possi- 
 bilities Semore instinctively gave play to the the- 
 atric instinct of his race. He turned the diamond 
 over and over, muttering miserably; scarcely con- 
 scious that Vistar's eyes were focussed covetously 
 upon the stone's scintillant perfection. 
 
 " Reckon I ain't gwine have no use for this ring 
 now," mourned Semore sadly. " Might's well th'ow 
 it away.'' 
 
 " Wh-what's that? " faltered Vistar. 
 
 " Nothin'. Nothin' on'y jes' a hund'ed an' fifty 
 dollar di'min' 'gagement ring." 
 
 " Whar you git it at? "
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 27 
 
 " Bought it. Ain't got no use for it now." 
 
 A tremor of misgiving smote Vistar amidships. 
 Was it possible, she cogitated wildly, that she in 
 common with the general coloured population 
 had mistaken the consistency of Semore's heart? 
 " What you buy it for? " 
 
 " Huh ! What you reckon .a man usuamly buys 
 a di'min' ring for w'en he's plumb crazy bout'n a 
 gal an' is gwine ast her to be his wife? " 
 
 Vistar shook her head. She couldn't quite grasp 
 the idea that Semore was capable of an affection 
 strong enough to unloose his purse strings to the 
 tune of a hundred and fifty dollars. " Is that a 
 ginuwiue di'min'? " 
 
 " Reckon they ain't nothin' countumfeit bout'n 
 Semore Mashby." 
 
 "An' an' you bought it for me?" 
 
 " Co'se." 
 
 Vistar's doubts were dispelled. Her heart flip- 
 pity-flopped toward Semore. A surge of genuine 
 affection accompanied realization of the fact that 
 she had done the man an injustice. And if her 
 sudden accession of ardour was influenced largely 
 by the blue-white sparks which glinted from the 
 diamond she was at least honestly unconscious of 
 the fact. " O-o-oh ! Semore!" she quavered. 
 
 He stiffened. Here was a nuance which he had 
 never before heard from her luscious red lips. 
 "Wh-wh-what?" 
 
 " Semore," she murmured with downcast lids, 
 "I I is totumly misundumstood you. . . ." 
 
 " Vistar ! You you ain't mean that . . . 
 that . . ." 
 
 She shook her head violently and sidled closer
 
 28 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 to his skinny frame in maidenly token of surren- 
 der. Her left hand strayed upward and rested 
 maddeningly on his frayed vest. " Oh ! Honey " 
 
 Better men than Seiuore Mashby have made 
 greater tactical blunders in the embrace of soft 
 round arms. He could no more have resisted the 
 lure of the parted, upturned lips than he could 
 have neglected to collect interest due him. He 
 crushed her to him and quivered with the delicious 
 novelty of a soul kiss such as had inflamed only a 
 few of his wildest dreams. 
 
 When, two minutes later, they seated themselves 
 on the sofa and entwined themselves again in each 
 other's arms the fourth finger of Vistar Goins' 
 left hand flamed with the glory of Elzevir Nesbit's 
 diamond ! 
 
 Elzevir frowned as she massaged, with a hot iron, 
 various rough-dried garments of the white folks. 
 
 She had plumbed the nethermost depths of misery 
 and she was scared : scared completely and thor- 
 oughly. During dinner the previous night she had 
 intercepted countless glances directed by Urias 
 toward her imitation ring. Conditions had been 
 worse at the matutinal feast. It could mean but 
 one thing : Urias suspected the true state of af- 
 fairs but was not sufficiently convinced to voice his 
 suspicions. 
 
 Once before he had pursued such a course and 
 been forced to retreat precipitately from the house 
 pursued by a verbal barrage of terrible intensity. 
 Elzevir knew that Urias was merely awaiting sub- 
 stantiation of his suspicions before loosing his in- 
 itial tirade. The future seemed dark with impene-
 
 Semore," she murmured with downcast lids, "I 1- 
 is totumly misundumstood you."
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 29 
 
 trable blackness, the clammy gloom about the Nes- 
 bit house was thick enough to be sliced with a knife. 
 
 There came a light knock at the door and Elzevir 
 called a " Come in " without turning her head. 
 The door swung back and she heard a cheery, musi- 
 cal voice : " Mawnin 1 , Mis' Nesbit." 
 
 Elzevir dropped the iron and squared her shoul- 
 ders. She and Vistar had long and frankly con- 
 fessed to a mutual antipathy and she knew that the 
 visit boded some unpleasantness. " Mawnin', Miss 
 Goins." 
 
 " Jes' dropped in for a minute. Le's sit on the 
 po'ch." 
 
 Elzevir dropped into a wicker chair opposite her 
 visitor. " Fine day, ain't it, Miss Goins? " 
 
 " Elegant. But I guess mos' ev'ything looks fine 
 to me today, Mis' Nesbit." 
 
 " How come that? " 
 
 With downcast eyes and modest mien Vistar 
 wordlessly extended her left hand. Elzevir 
 gasped : " You is got a di'min'? " 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 "How come that?" 
 
 " I is engage'," simpered the fair Vistar. 
 
 "G'wan. To which?" 
 
 " Semore Mashby." 
 
 " Semore. . . . Lis'en heah, Vistar Goins, is you 
 tellin' me the Gawd's hones' truth? " 
 
 " Sho' is, Mis' Nesbit. Ain't that ring prove it? 
 Semore give me that las' night." 
 
 Here was a draft doubly bitter. She knew that 
 Vistar disliked her and had always been intensely 
 jealous of the social pre-eminence which was hers 
 by reason of ownership of a genuine diamond. And
 
 30 
 
 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 now Vistar had come to cut her social props from 
 under, to smash her cosmic scheme in the solar 
 plexus. How thorough a job she was performing, 
 even Vistar did not know, for she did not dream 
 that the ring which glowed from Elzevir's finger 
 was born in a glass factory. 
 
 Elzevir was lavish in her praise. " Lemme see 
 it, Miss Goins. I sho' does congratumlate you." 
 
 Vistar slipped the ring from her finger and passed 
 it over, exulting in her triumph. Elzevir inspected 
 it languidly then suddenly her eyes narrowed, 
 her lips compressed and every muscle in her body 
 tensed. 
 
 She recognized her own ring ! 
 
 There wasn't a doubt of it. The worn and bat- 
 tered prong, the ... she spoke merely because she 
 was afraid that by prolonged silence she might be- 
 tray her emotional seethe to Vistar's close and 
 exuberant scrutiny. " Sho' is a han'some ring, 
 Miss Goins." 
 
 " My inten'ed ain't no piker, Mis' Nesbit." 
 
 Elzevir did not know how Semore Mashby had 
 become possessed of her ring. She didn't particu- 
 larly care. All that she did know was that by some 
 kind act of a merciful Providence the missing ring 
 was once again in her possession and there she in- 
 tended to keep it. Her conscience was clear: the 
 ring had been stolen from her. It had come home 
 to roost. It was her property and her property 
 she intended it to remain. To her legal right of 
 possession she intended to add actual possession. 
 
 " Elegant ring," she murmured absently, turn- 
 ing it this way and that in the sunlight. " Prettier 
 than mine, I reckon."
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 31 
 
 " Tha's nachel," cooed Vistar. " My fiansay is 
 got mo' money than what yo' husband is got. He 
 c'n fo'd ril fine stones." 
 
 "Tain't no larger lemme see," and Elzevir, 
 a-tremble with inspiration, slipped the imitation 
 diamond from her finger. She compared the 
 rings carefully. She shuffled them deliberately. 
 And finally she slipped a ring back on her 
 finger. 
 
 But the ring which she returned to Vistar Goins 
 was a gold-plated affair set with a piece of glass! 
 The Nesbit crown jewel had been restored. 
 
 Vistar was pitifully unsuspicious of the substi- 
 tution. She slipped the imitation on her finger 
 and sighed with satisfaction. " I espec' I'll have 
 sev'al more di'min's pretty soon," she commented 
 idly. " Semore is so foolish in how he spen's money 
 whar I is consarned at." 
 
 Elzevir knew that she was now safe from detec- 
 tion. Should trouble arise she realized that she 
 could easily prove ownership to the ring she wore. 
 And Vistar had rubbed it in just a little bit too 
 strong. 
 
 " Semore Mashby ain't got no reppitation for 
 bein' zac'ly what yo'd call a spen'thrif," she re- 
 marked acidly. 
 
 "Whar I is consarned at 'tis diffe'ent," came 
 the bland answer. 
 
 Elzevir's eyes narrowed. " You ain't happen' to 
 show that to no jooler yet, is you? " 
 
 " What for? " 
 
 " Nothin'. Nothin' tall. On'y some immytation 
 di'min's, Miss Goins, looks pow'ful like the ril 
 thing."
 
 32 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Vistar rose indignantly. "Is you meanin' to 
 'sinuate, Mis' Nesbit, that " 
 
 " I ain't 'sinuatin' nothin 1 , Miss Goins. I is said 
 what I is said. An' what I is said is that Mistuh 
 Mashby ain' nev' th'ew no money away yet an' if n 
 'twas me he give that stone to I'd be pow'ful sho' 
 'twas ginuwine befo' I went boastin' roun' wimmin 
 what ev'ybody knows wears the ril thing. Tha's 
 all what I is got to say, Miss Goins. Ise busy 
 doin' hones' wuk. Good day! " 
 
 It was ridiculous; unthinkable; absurd! Se- 
 more would never dare. But the seeds of distrust, 
 so cleverly planted, insisted on sprouting. 
 
 An hour later she staggered from a lead- 
 ing jewelry store. Tears part of stricken pride 
 and part of fury trembling in her eyes. "A 
 dollar and a half," had been the jeweller's prompt 
 verdict. " It isn't worth a cent more than that." 
 
 She walked dizzily toward her home, groping 
 blindly through the wreckage of her air-castles. 
 All the venom in her nature had concentrated 
 against Semore Mashby; Semore the hopelessly 
 tightwad whose fervently protested love for her 
 had proved not sufficiently strong to master the 
 plea of the dollar. 
 
 She was prostrated, abased, made a laughing- 
 stock in the eyes of the society set. Nor was she 
 labouring under any delusions. Elzevir Nesbit de- 
 tested her and Elzevir knew that the visit of the 
 morning had been for the express purpose of quaf- 
 fing the nectar of superiority. Elzevir would not 
 rise to heights of mercy. Not a chance. Nor 
 would the story lose colour in the telling. The 
 world had become a dark, drab place for the crushed
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 33 
 
 Vistar. Her pride had wenteth before her fall 
 and the fall was exceeding hard. 
 
 Her first move was strictly feminine. She went 
 home and cried it out. And with her cry came 
 realization that, diamonds or no diamonds, Semore 
 was not and could never have become her man. 
 When she left home it was to walk swiftly to Se- 
 more's office, a dingy room in an ancient two-story 
 red-brick building a half-block removed from the 
 best business section of darktown. 
 
 She had been in the office before and never liked 
 it. Now its noisome dankness smote her and filled 
 her soul with loathing for the place and the man 
 who sat hunched like a great skinny buzzard in his 
 swivel chair. At sight of her Semore rose eagerly 
 and started forward with arms outstretched. He 
 caught the pale yellow gleam of cold fury in her 
 eyes and paused. . . . 
 
 Vistar exploded. She ripped the offending ring 
 from her finger and hurled it viciously. It struck 
 a broken button on his vest and tinkled to the floor. 
 Semore's lantern jaw dropped weakly. " Wha- 
 wha's the matter, Hon? " 
 
 " I I " Vistar choked. She turned word- 
 lessly toward the door. 
 
 "Vistar Honey Sumthin's wrong ? '' 
 
 She whirled in a fury. " You is said sumthnT, 
 Semore. They is plen'y wrong ! " 
 
 He cautiously rescued the ring from a dust-heap. 
 " S'posin' you tell me. . . ." 
 
 " If'n I was to tell you what I is thinkin', Semore 
 Mashby, you sho' would have me 'rested. I is 
 thinkin' things bout'n you, Semore Mashby, which 
 I cain't say 'thout fo'gettin' I is a lady. I is on'y
 
 34 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 gwine say this much they is some wimmin you 
 en fool with a fake di'min', but I ain't one of 
 them ! " 
 
 " Fake di'uim'? " Semore stiffened. His parsi- 
 monious soul shrivelled before the possibilities con- 
 tained in the accusation. " What you mean 
 fake?" 
 
 " Mebbe so I is got a price, Semore Mashby ; but 
 'tain't no dollar'n a half! You go give that they 
 di'min' to s'mother gal what ain't got sense enough 
 to know yo'd fool her. Tha's all vhat I is got to 
 say bout'n it. Goo'-bye! you ol'- ol' rooster!" 
 
 The door slammed behind hei, raising a tiny 
 spurt of dust. Semore's head wobbled crazily on 
 his thin neck. He passed talon-like fingers across 
 a perspiring forehead. His chief terror, however, 
 was not of his blasted love-hopes but of the cer- 
 tainty that something was wrong with his dia- 
 mond. 
 
 He knew Vistar Goins: knew her very well in- 
 deed. And he realized that she was not of the type 
 to theatrically fling real diamonds around his office. 
 Therefore, she must know that the stone was imita- 
 tion. Quod erat demonstratum! 
 
 But how? Twenty- four hours previously one of 
 the best jewellers in the city had appraised the 
 stone as worth not a cent less than a hundred and 
 fifty dollars. He broke the world's middle-distance 
 records in traversing the distance between his office 
 and the jeweller's. He shoved the ring across the 
 counter: " How much that is wuth, Cap'n? " 
 
 The white man glanced at the bit of glass and 
 smiled. " About a dollar. Maybe two." 
 
 " Two dollars? " There were tears in Semore's
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 35 
 
 voice. " Ain't they some mistake, Boss-man? " 
 
 " No. It is a cleverly-cut imitation and a fairly 
 well made, plated setting. But it's intrinsic value 
 isn't possibly more than two dollars." 
 
 Semore closed his eyes in horror. In the light 
 of this certain financial catastrophe the loss of a 
 prospective wife and a happy home seemed as noth- 
 ing. " B-b-but," he stammered. " It wa'n't on'y 
 yestiddy you tol' me that they ring was wuth a 
 hund'ed an' fifty dollars! " 
 
 The jeweller shook his head. " Not that ring. 
 That is not the ring I appraised for you yester- 
 day." 
 
 " But Boss-man," wailed Semore, " is you sho' 
 bout'n that? " 
 
 " Positive. The ring you showed me yesterday 
 was a very pretty genuine diamond. This thing is 
 plain glass." 
 
 "O-o-o-oh! Lawdy!" 
 
 " You haven't loaned any money on that, have 
 you?" 
 
 Semore glanced at the ring. He raised pain- 
 filled eyes to the face of his vis-a-vis. " No," he 
 groaned, " I ain't loant nothin' on nothin'. I 
 reckon I is jes' nachelly gave sevumty-five dollars 
 to cha'ity ! " 
 
 The stricken Semore lurched into the street and 
 groped blindly toward his musty office. There he 
 sank into a creaky chair and lighted a cigar butt 
 which he spitted on a penpoint so that he might 
 get the ultimate puff of rancid smoke. He tried 
 to collect hie thoughts. 
 
 He knew that the jeweller was above reproach. 
 Some fiend of evil had stolen his real diamond and
 
 30 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 substituted this bit of glass. And yet no one 
 had possessed the ring save himself. It hadn't been 
 out of his pocket 
 
 He leaped to his feet and smashed a bony fist 
 into the palm of his other hand. 
 
 "Me an' Samson," he roared, resorting to the 
 Bible for a parallel, " we is both been done dirt 
 by wimmin! Vistar Goins wukked me for that 
 di'min' an' then double-crossed me ! " 
 
 It was all quite plain. Vistar still had the real 
 diamond. He slapped a battered felt hat on his 
 head with the intention of putting the case in the 
 hands of Lawyer Evans Chew. Then he realized 
 that Chew, in common with all the other men of 
 parts in darktown, disliked him and would take 
 great pleasure in exploiting his discomfiture. He 
 loved money passionately, but he knew that it was 
 worth more than seventy-five dollars to conceal the 
 story of his undoing. And he was wise enough to 
 understand that he would have a very difficult time 
 in proving that Vistar had substituted the imita- 
 tion for the real. If he had her arrested and she 
 should subsequently be acquitted they'd cer- 
 tainly run him out of town. 
 
 He removed his hat and settled into the slough 
 of despond. He was heartsick and weary. 
 " Reckon I deserves it," he muttered bitterly, " for 
 foolin' with wimmin." Semore Mashby's conver- 
 sion to misogyny was complete. 
 
 There came a light tap on the door and it was 
 flung open. Cass Driggers poked a grinning head 
 into the room. "Hello, Ol' Spoht!" he greeted 
 cheerily. " How you makin' it this mawnin'? " 
 
 Semore pulled himself together with a mighty
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 37 
 
 effort. He tried to grin and met with sickly suc- 
 cess. " Tol'able, Brother Driggers ; soht of tor- 
 able." 
 
 " So'm I, Brother Mashby. Jes' paused by to 
 let you know bout'n that sevumty-five dollars 
 you loant me yestiddy you 'members it, don' 
 you?" 
 
 " Yeh," choked Semore, " I 'members it tho'- 
 ough." 
 
 " I done finish a deal what tu'n it into th'ee 
 hund'ed dollars," exulted Cass. " I is comin' 'roun' 
 this evenin' to redeem that they ring back ag'in." 
 
 Worse and more of it. Ossa piled on Pelion. 
 This new aspect to a phantasmagoria of misery 
 smote Semore where it hurt worst. He temporized. 
 " Ain't no hurry, Brother Driggers : you is got 
 thutty days." 
 
 " I is got th'ee hund'ed dollars," chuckled Cass. 
 "An' t'night I pays you eighty an' gits the ring." 
 
 Semore was face to face with the necessity for 
 immediate and decisive action. His brain was 
 sadly addled but not to such an extent that he 
 failed to realize the urgency of saving the present 
 situation at any cost. He knew that if he should 
 be suspected of evil-doing, Cass Driggers would 
 cheerfully railroad him to the chaingang. 
 
 And he couldn't return the diamond to Cass 
 because he didn't have the diamond. He knew 
 that Cass had placed in pawn with him a genu- 
 ine diamond and that he had nothing to return 
 save a cheap imitation. Sooner or later Cass 
 would discover the substitution and he Semore 
 Mashby would make the acquaintance of the city 
 jail. He didn't fool himself. He realized that he
 
 38 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 had as much chance for mercy as a Brunswick stew 
 at a nigger barbecue. 
 
 " Tha's a pow'ful nice ring, Cass." 
 
 " Reckon so. Cost a hund'ed an' fifty dollars." 
 
 " 'Tain't wuth all of that." 
 
 "We ain't scussin' what i's wuth, Brother 
 Mashby. I is gwine git it back for eighty dollars. 
 That lets you out." 
 
 It did let him out hard. " I is soht of growed 
 fon' of that ring," murmured Semore. 
 
 " I an' you both." 
 
 " Sposin' you sell it to me? " 
 
 " That ring ain't for sale." 
 
 "How 'bout a hund'ed an' twen'y-five dollars 
 cash: fifty more'n what I loant you on it yes- 
 tiddy?" 
 
 " You is the humourestes' feller, Semore. That 
 ring ain't for sale." 
 
 " Hund'ed an' fifty? " 
 
 " Nothin' stirrin'. If'n you want a di'min' ring 
 for yo' ownse'f, whyn't you go downtown an' buy 
 you one? " 
 
 For a wild instant Semore thought of doing that 
 and attempting to substitute the new ring for that 
 of Cass which had passed into the avid clutches of 
 a heartless woman. But that would not entirely 
 negative the danger of discovery. Cass must never 
 know. 
 
 " Hund'ed an' sevumty-five? All what you is got 
 an' a hund'ed mo'? " 
 
 " I wants my own ring back," snapped Cass im- 
 patiently. 
 
 Semore was on the rack. He knew that be was
 
 ALL THAT GLITTEKS 39 
 
 up against it good and proper. " T-t-t-two hun- 
 d'ed?" he faltered. 
 
 Flat rejection trembled on Cass's lips but he 
 choked it back. Here was a chance " You is 
 off'rin' all what we is borried an' a hund'ed an' 
 twen'y-five mo' for that ring, Semore?" 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 " Put it in writin','' commanded the budding 
 financier. 
 
 Semore did so, every scratch of the pen making 
 a furrow in his heart. Cass inspected the docu- 
 ment and grinned. " Let you know this evenin', 
 Brother Mashby. Way I figgers it out, I ain't 
 gwine lose nothin' no way." 
 
 Semore knew that Cass was speaking fact. It 
 seemed that for once in his life he was on the short 
 end of everything. His opinion of women in gen- 
 eral and of Vistar in particular at that moment 
 dwarfed Schopenhauer's famous essay into a flaccid 
 compliment by comparison. Cass paused at the 
 door. 
 
 " If'n you ain't look shahp, Semore," he flung 
 over his shoulder, " you is gwine begin' spen' some 
 money pretty soon an' then you gwine die of a 
 busted heart." 
 
 Cass ran down the stairway, turned the corner 
 at top speed and accelerated all the way to the 
 Nesbit homestead. He laid the proposition glow- 
 ingly before the astounded Urias and backed it up 
 by an exhibition of the documentary evidence. 
 " So you see, 'Rias," he concluded triumphantly, 
 " we is gwine take this extray hund'ed an' twen'y- 
 five an' buy a new an' ginuwine di'min' for Elzevir
 
 40 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 an' the sevumty-five what we owes Semore will be 
 extry profit for us." 
 
 Urias shook his head doubtfully. " Cain't be 
 did, Cass. Elzevir'd know it, sho'." 
 
 " Huh ! " negatived the optimistic Cass. " She 
 ain't able to tell her ril di'min' fum a fake, so how 
 she gwine know ifn we give her a ril, hones'-to- 
 Gawd di'min' which we is gwine spen' a hund'ed an' 
 twen'y-five dollars for? " 
 
 "They is some things, Cass, which is too 
 much. . . ." 
 
 " A di'min' is a di'min', 'Rias, an' a woman is a 
 woman. Even Elzevir." 
 
 Cass won. Two hours later he left the office of 
 the prostrated Semore Mashby clutching in his 
 hand the informal pawn ticket for eighty dollars 
 and one hundred and twenty-five dollars in cash. 
 Semore had fought a valiant but losing battle for 
 the five dollars interest money. 
 
 Cass and Urias met on the corner and together 
 selected a glittering diamond for which they paid 
 one hundred and twenty -five dollars. Cass was all 
 in favor of a seventy-five dollar stone with a pro- 
 nounced flaw but Urias had been too terrified by the 
 experiences of the immediate past to run further 
 risks. 
 
 Luck was with them. They reached the Nesbit 
 manse, reconnoitred, and saw Elzevir in the back 
 yard putting the finishing touches to an extra 
 washing. Urias sneaked into the house and slid 
 open the bureau drawer. 
 
 The ring was not there ! Then he knew that his 
 wife had at this fatal eleventh hour heeded his nag- 
 ging advice. The ring was locked in the trunk and
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 41 
 
 his wife had the key. The irony of the thing struck 
 him : Elzevir securely locking away an imitation 
 diamond after having for years left a real stone 
 open to any enterprising crook ! 
 
 He lighted a cigarette and lounged through the 
 back door. He noticed that the ring was not on 
 her finger. " 'Lo, Elzevir." 
 
 " Howdye." 
 
 " You sho' does wuk hahd, Elzevir." 
 
 " Lot you knows 'bout wuk ! " 
 
 Urias speculated briefly. " Is you got the key 
 to yo' trunk, Elzevir? " 
 
 " Sho' is." 
 
 " Loand it to me a minute, will you, Hon? " 
 
 He did not detect the gleam of suspicion which 
 leaped into Elzevir's eyes, nor did he take warn- 
 ing from the alacrity with which she handed him 
 the desired key. He chatted with her for a few 
 moments and sidled into the house. 
 
 It required only a few seconds to throw back the 
 lid of the trunk and to locate the ring. He lifted 
 it happily from the tray and fished the new and 
 genuine diamond from his vest pocket. 
 
 He gazed at the two stones. They seemed twins. 
 He couldn't tell which from t'other. 
 
 " What you is doin', 'Rias? " 
 
 Urias whirled. He experienced a sudden sink- 
 ing sensation at the pit of his stomach. He gazed 
 into the level eyes of his militant wife. She held 
 his gaze for awhile, then dropped her eyes to the 
 glittering, glowing diamonds. 
 
 Discretion and circumstance prompted a lie, but 
 intimate knowledge of the woman before him 
 warned that such a course would be troublesome
 
 42 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 and fruitless. And so Urias Nesbit for once in his 
 life told the whole, unadorned, perfect and com- 
 plete truth. 
 
 He pleaded passionately. He offered to escort 
 her to every jeweller in town for appraisement of 
 the ring. And as he talked Elzevir's lips lost their 
 stern rigidity and expanded into a sunny smile. 
 The sun was shining very brightly for Elzevir. 
 And when he finished she merely said : " Call in 
 that wuthless, no-'count Cass Driggers." 
 
 Cass entered sheepishly and stood twirling his 
 hat. Elzevir's voice whipped out like the crack o' 
 doom. "Is you done soP that autymobile yet, 
 Cass?" 
 
 " Uh-huh. Yas'm." 
 
 "How much?" 
 
 "Th'ee hund'ed dollars. I owes the gyrage 
 twen'y-five dollars for mate'ial." 
 
 "An' you owes me sevumty-five dollars for the 
 use of my ring." 
 
 " But Mis' Nesbit " 
 
 "You owes me sevumty-five dollars for the use 
 of my ring," she grated. " Lis'en at me an' per- 
 duce ! " 
 
 Cass looked at Urias and Urias stared miserably 
 back at Cass. Cass did the expedient thing: he 
 handed the seventy-five dollars to Elzevir. " That 
 leaves you two hund'ed," continued Elzevir merci- 
 lessly. "Give me the hund'ed what belongs to 
 'Rias." 
 
 " But, Honey. . . ." 
 
 "'Rias! You keep yo' mouth out of this heah 
 settlin'ment. Han' it over, Cass." 
 
 Cass obeyed dumbly.
 
 ALL THAT GLITTERS 43 
 
 "Ise gwine keep this for you, 'Rias," smiled 
 Elzevir. " Reckon you nev' will know nothin' 
 much bout'n handlin' money. If n you want five 
 dollars " 
 
 " Thanks, sweetness," murmured Urias humbly, 
 as he took the crumpled bill which his wife gener- 
 ously tendered. Then an idea struck him. " What 
 you is gwine do with that fake ring? " 
 
 His wife smiled enigmatically and gazed affec- 
 tionately at her two genuine diamonds. " I reckon 
 I'll wear 'em both." 
 
 " But if'n any one should ast. . . ." 
 
 " Tell 'em they is both ril di'min's." 
 
 " They might want a jooler to look at 'em." 
 
 " Reckon I c'n stan' that, 'Rias. Anyways, you 
 lemme worry 'bout that side of it. All you got to 
 do is jes' like what I says." 
 
 Urias shook his head in bewilderment. "I 
 I ain't on'erstan', Honey." 
 
 " They's a heap of things you ain't never gwine 
 on'erstan', 'Rias. They's some things a wife ain't 
 got no time tellin' her husban'. This heah is one 
 of 'em. Too much infermation is li'ble to go to yo' 
 haid. By the way, Cass, who was fool nuff to buy 
 that busted car? " 
 
 "That autymobile was better'n new,'' defended 
 Cass stoutly. " Them flivvers ain't no good ontil 
 they is been wrecked a few times." 
 
 "Who bought it?" repeated Elzevir firmly. 
 
 Cass grinned. " Cap'n Zacharias Foster," he 
 chuckled, " the man what owned it fust off ! "
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 
 
 THE melancholia of the ages shone in the 
 eyes of the dandified young negro who 
 leaned disconsolately against the lamp- 
 post before the ornate portals of Champion Moving 
 Picture Theatre No. 2 Coloured Only. Even the 
 frankly envious hail : " 'Lo, Bo Brumm'l ! " of a 
 one-time rival failed to rouse him from his lethargy. 
 
 For Florian Slappey had a grudge against the 
 world. Society had done him dirt. The ponies 
 persisted in running true to form when he played 
 the long shots, his creditors exhibited an alarm- 
 ing, and ever-increasing, distrust of well-phrased 
 promises, his favourite lottery gigs remained in the 
 big glass wheel instead of appearing in the lucky 
 dozen which was drawn twice daily. 
 
 It was all wrong. Not that Florian Slappey 
 cared for himself : he was well content with a little 
 money, an absence of the necessity for work, the 
 glory of his social dictatorship and three square 
 meals a day. But continued ill luck was tending 
 to thwart the greatest desire of Florian Slappey's 
 happy-go-lucky young life ; it was veering his 
 bark of romance toward a surfy shoal, and 
 
 "'Lo, Florian!" 
 
 The lithe figure of the young darkey straightened 
 so swiftly that the angle of the pearl grey hat was 
 disturbed by three degrees. Then a hand the 
 fingers of which were tipped by well manicured, 
 
 47
 
 48 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 highly polished fingernails flew to the top piece 
 and it canie off. The body bent gracefully at the 
 waist and as Florian raised his eyes to the super- 
 lative pulchritude of Blossom Prioleau he flushed 
 beneath his coat of racial brunette and gave vent 
 to some of his surcharged emotion by the universal 
 device of sighing. 
 
 For if Florian was a fashion-plate which the 
 men of darktown's uppermost social stratum cop- 
 ied, Blossom was of a magnificence of feature, 
 physique and raiment which defied emulation. 
 
 The blood of Jamaica had blended with the rich, 
 red life stream of imported Africa through many 
 American generations to make of Blossom a per- 
 sonal perfection. She was educated through the 
 sixth grade, lacked none of the social graces, a 
 good spender when she had money to spend, and 
 various white ladies for whom she had toiled in a 
 domestic capacity testified to the fact that she was 
 a marvel of efficiency when she cared to be. 
 
 Blossom was not opposed to work, as such. In 
 fact she rather favoured it for the other fellow. 
 For herself, she looked down upon domestic labor 
 as menial and ill befitting her high social status. 
 Besides, white folks were inconsiderate and lack- 
 ing a sense of appreciation. They refused to make 
 allowances for her undoubted attractiveness when 
 garbed in nurse's cap and apron. They actually 
 demanded the services which they expected to re- 
 ceive from girls less prominent socially. She 
 craved a life of luxury, so when she and Florian 
 
 Therein Florian Slappey was in a fair way to 
 be hoist by his own petard, for Florian was a past 
 master of the gentle art of fooling most of the pub-
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 49 
 
 lie all of the time and he had fooled it into the 
 belief that he was perenially workless because pe- 
 cuniarily insured against labour. The occasional 
 appearance of the correct three numbers chosen 
 from those between 1 and 78 in the lottery wheel 
 had enabled him to keep up appearances since his 
 advent from Montgomery more than a year pre- 
 viously; and it was in the flush of enthusiasm which 
 followed the winning of the Blood Gig numbers 
 5, 10 and 40, paying him four hundred dollars for 
 the two he invested, that he proposed to Blossom 
 Prioleau and was promptly accepted. 
 
 Their engagement, although nominally a secret, 
 had been bruited about among the socially elect 
 and was more or less of a gossip sensation. Flo- 
 rian and Blossom had denied it flatly at Flo- 
 rian's insistence for the simple reason that 
 Florian could not afford a diamond engagement 
 ring, dared not attempt to fool either Blossom or 
 her friends with an imitation stone, ard refused 
 to sacrifice his position as male social dictator by 
 an admission of his inability to supply his lady 
 fair with the glittering, conventional badge of vol- 
 untary lifelong servitude. 
 
 Of late Florian had found reason for rejoicing 
 over this canny foresight. And only Jackson Ram- 
 say, the portly white man who operated the policy 
 game, guessed that Florian was in financial straits. 
 
 Jackson Ramsay was familiar with the symptoms, 
 but fortunately for Florian he was tight-lipped. 
 But he saw the dawn of worry in Florian's eyes 
 with the ill luck which followed the daily morning 
 drawing known as "Pool" and the afternoon 
 lottery arbitrarily yclept " Genuine." Florian's
 
 50 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 bets were becoming more and more reckless. Not 
 content with saddling his bets and winning mod- 
 estly he played three, four and even five num- 
 bers straight. And he had won just as often as 
 men who play that system usually win, which is 
 not at all. The odds to the prospective winner were 
 alluring; the odds against him well-nigh impos- 
 sible. 
 
 For Florian, in common with many thousands of 
 his fellow-negroes in the South, fondly believed 
 that when 78 numbers are put into a wheel and 
 twelve drawn therefrom there was a very good 
 chance of guessing three of the numbers destined to 
 be included in the dozen. So sure was Jackson 
 Ramsay that the bettor could not perform this 
 feat of clairvoyance that to the guesser of three of 
 the twelve numbers he promptly paid 200 for 1, 
 to the lucky chooser of four 500 for 1 ; and to the 
 selector of five, 2,500 for 1. 
 
 But no one, and Blossom least of all, among 
 Florian's friends, had suspected his pecuniary 
 travail . . . which accounted for their failure to 
 understand the sudden friendship between Florian 
 and Sally Crouch the latter a stout female of 
 thirty-five years who owned and operated the Cozy 
 Home Hotel for Coloured and was reputed to have 
 on deposit in the First National Bank a sum in 
 excess of three thousand dollars. And it was the 
 look of frank disbelief in the lustrous black eyes 
 of the adored Blossom Prioleau which brought a 
 surge of apprehension over Florian Slappey as he 
 gingerly squeezed her unresponsive hand. Florian 
 was unpleasantly aware that he faced an emotional 
 Armageddon.
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 51 
 
 " 'Lo, Blossom." 
 
 "What you doin', Florian?" 
 
 "Nothin'. What you doin'?" 
 
 " Jes' walkin' 'round." 
 
 " Thought you was workin'." 
 
 '" I is." 
 
 " Mis' Clarkson give you the day off? " 
 
 " She don't give no days off. Tell you how come, 
 Florian: I'se sick." 
 
 " S'posin' she finds out? " 
 
 " She ain't goin' to. I tol' Ma to stay 'round 
 the house till she comes down in her automobile. 
 Ma'll meet her outside an' tell her I is sick in bed. 
 That'll make it easier tomorrow." 
 
 " I see." He cleared his throat awkwardly. 
 " You ain't lookin' fo' nobody, is you, Blossom? " 
 
 " No." And then, with quick suspicion : 
 "You?" 
 
 " Me? Co'se not. Who'd I be lookin' fo'? " 
 
 " Reckon you ought to know that well as me." 
 
 " Blossom, you's the 'sinuatinest woman. . . ." 
 
 " I ain't 'sinuatin' nothin' I'se scared to say in 
 plain English." 
 
 " How come you says " 
 
 " I reckon you an' me is 'bout due to do some 
 plain an' honest talkin', Florian." 
 
 " I ain't like no rucus, Blossom." 
 
 She sniffed disdainfully. " You ain't the on'y 
 one. But they's things. . . ." 
 
 Florian cast a wild, hunted glance about the 
 congested avenue with its battered taxicabs, its 
 rows of stores operated by negroes for negroes, its 
 pretentious nine-story office building owned and 
 occupied by members of his race; the Penny Pru-
 
 52 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 dential Savings Bank on the ground floor . . . and 
 finally his eye lighted on the inviting portals of 
 Broughton's Drug Store. Unpleasantnesses an- 
 noyed him. He wanted peace and plenty of it. 
 
 "How 'bout a soda, Blossom?" 
 
 " I ain't keen 'bout no soda. What I want is to 
 make talk with you." 
 
 There was no help for it : " Let's talk in there." 
 
 The sight of a frothy, creamy strawberry ice 
 cream soda then in the process of being dispensed 
 to an ebony urchin dispelled Blossom's opposition. 
 " If you wanna " 
 
 They seated themselves at a shiny-topped table 
 in the farthest and most secluded corner. Florian 
 gave the order with the nonchalance of a million- 
 aire. Inwardly he was fidgety. He tried his best 
 to avert the catastrophe : " Pink Broughton sure 
 is got a swell place here." 
 
 " Is he? " 
 
 " He was tellin' me t'other day. . . ." 
 
 The ice cream sodas were served and Blossom's 
 long spoon probed tentatively into the foam. " We 
 ain't interest' in what he was tellin' you t'other 
 day, Florian. What we's interest' in is what I is 
 tellin' you now." 
 
 " You is actin' so strange, hon." 
 
 Blossom's lips compressed tightly. "Reckon 
 I'll be actin' stranger befo' long. Why ain't you 
 been to the house this last two nights? " 
 
 " Business," evaded Florian. 
 
 " Huh ! Fust time I ever knew her name was 
 Business." 
 
 " Who's name? " Innocently. 
 
 " That big, fat Sally Crouch."
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 53 
 
 Florian experienced a sinky sensation near the 
 solar plexus. " Who said somethin' 'bout Sally? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " What for you mention her? " 
 
 " 'Cause she's what I got to talk about. Fust off 
 I want to ask you, Florian is we engaged or ain't 
 we engaged? " 
 
 " Why, honey . . ." 
 
 " Is we or ain't we? " 
 
 " Ain't you know ? " 
 
 " I'se tryin' to find out." 
 
 " I done toP you. . . ." 
 
 " Yeh you tol' me a lot of things. But there's 
 other folks been tellin' me contrariwise. An' you 
 ain't been 'round much lately an' I sort of been 
 thinkin " 
 
 " You're the thinkenest woman, Blossom. You 
 ain't got no call to be thinkin' all the time that- 
 away." 
 
 " I reckon I got a right. Ain't it so I got a right 
 when my fiansay goes traipsin' 'round with a woman 
 who ain't got no education an' who runs a hotel 
 which there ain't the best things in the world said 
 about it? Ain't I huh?" 
 
 " Ain't been runnin' 'round with her." 
 
 " Pflf! Reckon that ol' sofa in her parlour ain't 
 had a chancst to get cool these last few nights." 
 
 " You're the 'sinuatinest woman. . . ." 
 
 Her eyes compelled his and held them levelly. 
 " I asks you this, Florian is you in love with me 
 or is you in love with Sally Crouch? " 
 
 " Honest t' Gawd, Hon I ain't care a snap of 
 my fingers for that woman. I ain't never loved 
 no woman but you, an' "
 
 54 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " When you gwine marry me? " 
 
 Florian flushed. " This ain't no time to make 
 marriage talk, Blossom. Things is too 'carious." 
 
 " This is the time you gwine make marriage talk, 
 Florian. -I ain't calc'latin' to stand no fumadiddle 
 from you nor no other man. You ain't never tol' 
 no one we was engage' an' folks is sayin' that I is 
 runnin' after you fo' your money. . . ." 
 
 " Folks don't know what they's talkin' 'bout," he 
 retorted earnestly, thinking fearfully of his total 
 worldly assets: an extensive wardrobe and about 
 eight dollars in cash. 
 
 " Reckon you ain't the marryin' kind, huh? " 
 
 " Reckon I is." 
 
 " Then whyn't you marry me right off? " 
 
 " I sort of ain't ready, Blossom. They's business 
 reasons. ..." 
 
 " Hm ! What you know 'bout business? You 
 got 'nough money so's you ain't got to work." 
 
 " I does work." 
 
 " Playin' the lott'ry." 
 
 "I'se secretary of The Sons & Daughters of I 
 Will Arise." 
 
 " That don't pay nothin' much." 
 
 He hesitated. . . . " 'Tain't much, I reckon, 
 Blossom ; but I reckon I might's well tell you now 
 as later, I need that money." 
 
 " What. . . ? " She leaned across the table, the 
 strawberry soda temporarily forgotten : " You 
 means to tell me you need the money you git from 
 The Sons & Daughters of I Will Arise? " 
 
 He hung his head in shame. " Uh-huh." 
 
 " How come? I thought you was rich." 
 
 " That's what they all think," he answered mis-
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 55 
 
 erably . . . for greater shame hath no man than 
 to admit his wealth is a chimera. " But that ain't 
 makin' it so." 
 
 " You useter have. . . ." 
 
 " Useter ain't /*. I done had business reverses." 
 
 " Playin' th' lott'ry, I reckon." 
 
 "Sort of. An' other things. An' that's the 
 truth." 
 
 Silence fell between them. Florian Slappey fin- 
 gered the few crumpled bills in his trousers pocket. 
 The girl tried to readjust in a second her precon- 
 ceived ideas of the man and his worldly status. 
 
 " Broke? " she questioned directly. He was dis- 
 concerted. 
 
 " Not entirely." 
 
 "Almost?" 
 
 " Uh-huh ! I woulVt be tellin' no one only you, 
 Hon. . . ." 
 
 " Whyn't you git you a job? " 
 
 He shook his head. "My health ain't so good, 
 Blossom. I got the misery. . . ." 
 
 " An' you " And then a light came to her. 
 Florian Slappey, wealthy, courted the perfect Blos- 
 som Prioleau. Florian Slappey, bereft of lucre, 
 cast mercenary eyes upon the portly and affluent 
 Sally Crouch : Sally of the ample figure, the big 
 heart, the level head: Sally the uncourted, the 
 hard-working, the unbeautiful, the none-too-young. 
 Blossom half rose in her sudden accession of vio- 
 lent anger, and then dropped back to her seat. 
 Florian missed none of the business and knew that 
 his fowl was hung high. " So so that's it? n 
 breathed Blossom, 
 
 " What's it? "
 
 56 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " You go lose yo' money an' make a set f r Sally 
 Crouch 'cause she's got a heap." 
 
 The hour for evasion had passed and Florian 
 knew it. He bent forward earnestly, his slender 
 fingers with their polished nails clasping and un- 
 clasping. " That ain't the way to look at it a tall, 
 Blossom. You knows well enough that I love you : 
 you're the lovinest woman I ever been with. But 
 gittin' married is something different. Honest, I 
 love you too much to marry you an 1 then make you 
 work fo' me. ..." 
 
 " Pff ! I see myself workin' for any man ! " 
 
 " Sure that's it ! " He brightened perceptibly. 
 "It woul'n't nowise be fair fo' you to have to 
 work for me an' I ain't able to work fo' myself. 
 White folks asks too much these days an' they don't 
 pay nothin'. I been tryin' to make back my money. 
 Mister Ramsay c'n tell you: I been playin' th' 
 Pool ev'y mornin' an' saddlin' over to th' Ginuwine 
 in the afternoon, but the gigs ain't been comin' 
 right, I ain't call 'em right no mo'. Wunst I been 
 win a few dollars . . . but I ain't aimin' to marry 
 you on no few dollars, Hon. You is meant for fine 
 clothes an' such like. I knows you woul'n't want 
 to marry me if " 
 
 " Listen here, Florian : you ain't too tin' a tall. 
 I got a single mind, I is. I ain't fickle. I ain't 
 never love' no man but you an' if you is willin' 
 they ain't no reason why we cain't git married 
 today." 
 
 He shook his head in sad negation. " 'Twoul'n't 
 be fair to you, Hon." 
 
 " Reckon I c'n jedge that." 
 
 "I cares too much to let you. 'Cause ef my
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 57 
 
 slreijgth give out. . . . You ain't got no money 
 save' up, is you?" 
 
 " No," suspiciously, " I ain't." 
 
 "Y'see " 
 
 " You gwine marry me? " 
 
 " 'Twoul'n't be right." 
 
 " You mean you won't? " 
 
 " I'm tellin' you " 
 
 " S'posin' you jes' answer my question." 
 
 " Marriage ain't like credit, Blossom. Folks is 
 got to have money or they'll be mis'able. I ain't 
 got the heart to ask no good-lookin' woman like you 
 to t'row herse'f away on ol' trash like me. I ain't 
 aimin' " 
 
 " You is aimin'," she flashed with sudden heat. 
 " You is aimin' to marry fat ol' Sally Crouch an' 
 make her s'port you all yo' nachel life. Tha's 
 all the heart you got : jes' to make a woman work 
 fo' you " 
 
 " Hoi' on, Blossom ; hoi' on. That ain't nowise 
 fair. I ain't the kind of a man to take adwantage 
 of no woman. Love is a fine t'ing, I says, but it's 
 espensive like a Ford. I ain't got no money an' 
 I ain't able to work. Doc Simmons says I ain't. 
 Last white gen'lman I work fo' said the same inden- 
 tical t'ing. I sort of guess that poet what said 
 'bout bein' better to have love' an' lost than to have 
 marry' the girl wasn't no liar at that." 
 
 " An' so," bitterly, " you is plumb sot on marryin' 
 Sally fo' her money?" 
 
 " I ain't never goin' to stop lovin' you, Blossom." 
 
 " Hmph ! Lot of good that's goin' to do either 
 of us. Ain't you got no sense, Florian? Is you 
 saw a picture of Sally Crouch as Missis Florian
 
 58 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Slappey? Why why she even talks like po' 
 white trash. You is a disumpointment to me, Flo- 
 rian that you is." 
 
 " Reckon you'd do the same thing " 
 
 " You ain't know what you is talkin' 'bout. I se 
 had chancsts, I is. I got a friend up home in Nash- 
 ville name 'Zekiel Roth well. He runs a jitney line 
 an' he's got plenty money. I'se tellin' you, Flo- 
 rian, 'tain't his fault none a tall I ain't been Missis 
 'Zekiel Rothwell long time ago. Tha's what. But 
 I ain't b'lieve in marryin' fo' money " 
 
 " Tha's whar you makin' a mistake," he told her 
 earnestly. " A honeymoon ain't last but a week or 
 so, Blossom. Tha's whar its diff'rent from a bank 
 account. We always c'n love each other, Hon. 
 Guess we is just got to try an' be happy. . . ." 
 
 Blossom rose abruptly, a victim of unrequited 
 love and hurt pride. Florian trailed her to the 
 door. A few men seated at the soda fountain 
 turned to stare with glittering eyes at her Juno- 
 esque figure. Florian swelled with self-pity and 
 affection. There was a pleasant glow imparted by 
 the knowledge that he was rejecting the hand of 
 this regal creature; doing it, he told himself, for 
 her own good a Don Quixote. There was a hint 
 of moisture in his eyes as he extended his hand to 
 her in farewell. " Ef on'y I had the money like 
 what folks t'ink I is got. ..." 
 
 "I I woul'n't marry no such man as 
 you," she choked. 
 
 " Don't you go hurtin' my feelin's, Blossom. An' 
 don't you never fo'get I ain't never love' no woman 
 on'y you." 
 
 " Ise goin' to remember ev'ything, Florian ; 'spe-
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 59 
 
 cially that a man what'll sell hisself to a big, fat, 
 wuthless wench ain't worth cryin' 'bout." 
 
 She turned suddenly and walked swiftly down 
 the street. Florian stared after her thoughtfully. 
 He sighed. Then he smiled. So much for that. 
 The job, deliciously unpleasant as it had been, was 
 finished. The Rubicon had been safely crossed, 
 and he flattered himself that it had been rather 
 adroitly handled. He was a bit sorry, of course, 
 that he had been forced to break the heart of the 
 most glorious woman in darktown's 400 . . . but 
 there was an aftermath of quiet pleasure in the 
 knowledge that it had been within his power to do 
 so. There was no doubt that he had pursued the 
 sensible course. He had too long worshipped at 
 the shrine of the money god to underestimate by a 
 farthing the social value of spot cash. He knew 
 that he would always love Blossom, just as he knew 
 she would always care for him. There was a tragic 
 joy in the feeling. And there was always the 
 chance that in the near future the lottery would 
 solve his problems. He fancied himself in that 
 event laying his fortune at Blossom's large and 
 shapely feet . . . offering her that and himself in 
 marriage. 
 
 But that day his gigs failed to materialize in 
 either Pool or Genuine and the following morning 
 he made his way downtown to be greeted by the 
 news that Blossom Prioleau had departed the city. 
 
 " Whar she gone? " 
 
 " Dunno 'zactly, Florian." 
 
 "Y'ain't heard nobody say?" 
 
 " Not 'zactly, though I kinder t'ink like mebbe 
 somebody says 'twas to Nashville whar she was
 
 60 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 bohn at. Funny you ain't know 'bout it, Florian." 
 
 "Me? Hmph! How come I should know whar 
 she is at? " 
 
 The fact remained that Blossom had gone. Flo- 
 rian was pleased. He appreciated the fine display 
 of tact which had prompted her to temporarily re- 
 move herself from the scene of his proposed com- 
 mercial courtship. Thus his carefully planned 
 campaign for the ample hand of Sally Crouch 
 would not be injured by frequent distracting 
 glimpses of the might-have-been Mrs. Slappey. 
 Blossom had gone to visit Nashville. . . . Florian 
 was mournfully happy. The martyr role secretly 
 pleased him. 
 
 Theretofore Florian's attentions to the portly, 
 good-natured Sally had been discreet. Immedi- 
 ately they became flagrant. Society gossipped, 
 marvelled, then disgustedly washed its hands of 
 the affair. Matrons ground their teeth as it be- 
 came more and more apparent that Sally Crouch 
 was destined to become Mrs. Florian Slappey. 
 There would then be no denial of social eminence. 
 
 Florian held social leadership by virtue of brain, 
 education, and from the standpoint of the blind 
 populace wealth. He was a brunette Chester- 
 field and a born leader. Sally Crouch was the very 
 antithesis. During the past four years she had 
 worked too hard with her Cozy Home Hotel to 
 bother much about society, and her social activities 
 began and ended with lodge gatherings where she 
 assumed a back seat. At the evening functions 
 she played the dual r61e of wall-flower and chaper- 
 one. Being fat, and therefore good-natured, she 
 cheerfully recognized the fact that she was not
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 61 
 
 meant to be a butterfly and did not bother her level 
 head about it. 
 
 But after Florian Slappey had paid ardent and 
 unmistakable court to her for a period of three con- 
 secutive weeks immediately on the footsteps of 
 Blossom Prioleau's departure for Nashville life 
 assumed a fresh perspective. Sally's cosmic 
 scheme was wrecked and rebuilt. For the first 
 time in a neglected life Sally Crouch had reason to 
 dream of social recognition and a husband. 
 
 And what a husband! Sally worshipped him 
 blindly. He was all which she was not and which 
 she suddenly found herself possessed of a desire to 
 be. She was too happy and trustful to seek a sin- 
 ister motivating impulse to his sudden passion. 
 That he was marrying her for money never oc- 
 curred to her for she, in common with others of 
 the circle, fancied that he was more than comfort- 
 ably supplied with the goods of this world. 
 
 So she accepted her good fortune with delirious 
 blindness. Florian became a welcome nightly 
 guest at the hotel dinner table and she heaped his 
 plate with countless delicacies prepared as only 
 Sally could prepare them : steaks expertly charred 
 on the outside and rare and juicy within; crisp, 
 crumbly toast; rich brown gravies; thin, tender 
 bacon; oysters fried to a succulence beyond com- 
 pare; puddings and pies and cakes warranted to 
 melt at 98 degrees Fahrenheit. She couldn't un- 
 derstand the phenomenon brought about by the 
 little blind God and she didn't try. Sufficient unto 
 the day she found the pleasure thereof. 
 
 She plunged into an orgy of trousseau-buying. 
 She assumed ill-fitting airs of elegance. She tim-
 
 62 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 orously allowed herself the exquisite luxury of 
 patronizing a few hangers-on who had been wont 
 to look down upon her from their higher rungs of 
 the social ladder. And through it all she lavished 
 upon Florian an intransigent adoration such as 
 falls to the lot of few mere mortals. 
 
 As for Florian, he proved himself possessed of 
 no mean histrionic ability. And at that it wasn't 
 so hard after the initial sting of Blossom's depar- 
 ture had been soothed by time. He almost wished 
 that she might be there to witness the cheerful for- 
 titude which was his in the face of sacrifice. As 
 for his nightly banquets well, the future might 
 be loveless but there wasn't any doubt that Sally 
 was assaulting the famous road to a man's heart. 
 
 The Cozy Home Hotel was prosperous. He could 
 see that with half an eye. Report credited Sally 
 with a fortune of three thousand dollars. He fan- 
 cied gossip had underestimated. It was hard in- 
 deed to forego the delights of the glorious Blos- 
 som, but he derived satisfaction in the vista of 
 luxurious years. 
 
 And so he proposed. There may have been some 
 of the passion and fire of his Blossom courtship 
 lacking but to Sally Crouch his declaration of love 
 was an epic. It was her first. She accepted him 
 voluminously. Stunned darktown learned the 
 news and congratulated dazedly. 
 
 It wasn't understandable, but Florian admitted 
 the truth and as such it was accepted. The Sons 
 & Daughters of I Will Arise elected Sally the 
 following week to the post of Grand Exalted Prin- 
 cess which, while by no means a high office, was
 
 POOL AND GIN U WINE 03 
 
 higher than any to which Sally had ever aspired. 
 And Sally planned for a wedding which was des- 
 tined to live for ever in social history. It was to 
 be a thing stupendous, an artistic triumph calcu- 
 lated to place her iucoutrovertibly on the very pin- 
 nacle of the social heap. Sally was grimly deter- 
 mined that nothing she might do was to fail to bring 
 credit to the proud name of Slappey. 
 
 As for Florian, he was alternately divinely happy 
 and hopelessly miserable. Being human, he had 
 never quite succeeded in ridding himself of the vi- 
 sion of Blossom's physical attributes. On the other 
 hand he could not deny the appeal of Sally's af- 
 fluence and her skill in catering to his gustatory 
 senses. Too, he basked benignly in her worship 
 of himself. 
 
 He played the lottery daily in sums ranging from 
 a nickel to a dollar. His credit had improved since 
 the announcement of the engagement. Jackson 
 Ramsay, operator of Pool and Genuine, cautioned 
 the young negro against too reckless play but Flo- 
 rian was in no mood to listen to reason. 
 
 " Winnin' a few dollars ain't goin' to help me, 
 Mistuh Ramsay. I'm plumb sot on winnin' big 
 or not a tall." 
 
 So he played from day to day : desperately the 
 size of his bets limited only by the state of his 
 finances. He essayed every combination, or gig, 
 known to professional policy players. The morn- 
 ing drawing Pool found him laying several 
 small bets with instructions to carry any winnings 
 over to the afternoon drawing the Genuine. 
 Once in a great while he won a few dollars.
 
 64 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Usually what small winnings were netted in the 
 Pool were swept away in the Genuine. And the 
 wedding day approached. 
 
 It was to be an epoch-making wedding with Sally 
 footing the bills. The hotel on Eighteenth street 
 was to be decorated with azaleas, dogwood and mag- 
 nolias with a final marvellous touch of art in the 
 shape of a monstrous pink and white tissue paper 
 wedding bell. Reverend Plato Tubb, pastor of 
 the First African M. E. Church, had been selected 
 from six eager clergymen who bid down to a mini- 
 mum of profit for the honour of tying the hymeneal 
 knot. Flower girls were drilled daily. A pump 
 organ was installed. Officers of The Sons & Daugh- 
 ters of I Will Arise were to be present in full re- 
 galia and the uniformed drill team had promised 
 an exhibition in the street immediately preceding 
 the ceremony. Every detail had been arranged 
 with meticulous care. Even Florian found him- 
 self thrilling to the spotlight position. Matters, 
 he felt, might be worse. 
 
 The wedding day arrived. Florian rose early. 
 The sky was cloudless, the city droned with the 
 activities of an early June day. Two buzzards 
 circled lazily overhead but if Florian noticed the 
 omen he gave no sign. At eleven o'clock he entered 
 the lottery room and extended a dollar to Jackson 
 Ramsay. " All that on the Green Back gig, Cap'n 
 Ramsay." 
 
 " Straight? " 
 
 " Four full." 
 
 "All or nothing, eh?" 
 
 "Uh-huh!" 
 
 " Pool or Genuine? "
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 65 
 
 " Mawnin' Pool. T'night'll be too late." 
 
 " Aren't you getting reckless, Slappey? " 
 
 " You spoke a mouffuf that time, Cap'n. If that 
 
 four should win I gets five hundred fo' iny dollar. 
 
 An' nothin' nary cent less'n that'll help." 
 Ramsay shrugged his pudgy shoulders and wrote 
 
 the ticket : 
 
 FLORIAN SLAPPEY 
 
 Pool No. 384 
 
 18-44-45-61 (Straight) 
 $1.00 
 
 The door swung back and a wizened negro woman 
 entered. To Ramsay she handed a dime : " Train 
 gig," she ordered. " I done hab a dream las 1 night." 
 
 " 15-45-63," he checked off as he wrote the ticket : 
 "Straight?" 
 
 " No all." 
 
 " That's how you ought to play," said Ramsay 
 to the disdainful Slappey. 
 
 "Huh? Me? If all th'ee comes out she on'y 
 gets sixty for one." 
 
 " Yes," reminded the policy writer, " but if two 
 come out she gets twenty-five for one, and if one 
 of them come out she gets four for one." 
 
 " That ain't my game," commented Florian loft- 
 ily. " I ain't no piker." 
 
 The little old woman gazed admiringly upon 
 Florian. " Yo' shuah ain't, Mistuh Slappey. On'y 
 I cain't 'ford to play it yo' way. You you feel in' 
 well today?" 
 
 " What you got to do with that, woman? " 
 
 " Ain't yo' know me? " 
 
 " Huh? How r come I ought to know you? " 
 
 " I wuks wiv Mis' Sally down t' th' hotel. Mis' 
 Sally, she kinder 'lowed maybe come I might sea
 
 66 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 you down yeah an' she say tell you please to come 
 by an' make talk wif her fo' a minute.'' 
 
 Florian waved a grandiloquent hand, left the di- 
 lapidated building, and strolled idly toward the 
 Cozy Home Hotel. He wondered whether Blossom 
 knew that this was his wedding day, he even specu- 
 lated a bit on the ethical aspect of this mercenary 
 marriage. He was selling himself and his social 
 prestige for many a mess of pottage and a succes- 
 sion of breakfasts of crispy waffles. 
 
 Sally received him in the private parlour. Her 
 greeting was effusive : she threw plump arms about 
 his neck and implanted a fervent and resounding 
 kiss upon his unwilling lips. She was radiant and 
 palpitant as a schoolgirl. And finally when the 
 amorous preliminaries were concluded she seated 
 him beside her on the couch, placed his arm almost 
 all the way around the place where nature had 
 planned a waistline, and 
 
 " Reckon you's wonderin' how come I wanted to 
 see you, darlin'?" 
 
 " I'm always glad to answer yo' biddin'," he an- 
 swered with forced, dignified gallantry, his mind 
 busy with the terror that hereafter this woman was 
 to be his daily companion. Of course, after the 
 honeymoon he would no longer be forced to simu- 
 late affection. ... He speculated briefly and bit- 
 terly on the fate which made Blossom poor and 
 this creature rich. 
 
 " It's about disyer hotel," she started. Florian 
 pricked up his ears. " Bein' as we'se most mar- 
 ried I thought I might 'swell talk t'ings over wid 
 you." 
 
 " That's right honey."
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 67 
 
 She snuggled closer. " You is sech a brainy 
 man, Florian, I jes' sorter wanted yo' adwice " 
 
 " Yes? " 
 
 " Y'see, Florian I ain't never had nothin' but 
 hahd wuk sence I got hoi' of dis hotel. Fust off 
 w'en I took hoi' I done de cookin' an' de laundry 
 an' de maid wuk an' I ain't had so much money, 
 either. You ain't neber gwine know how hahd I 
 wuk." 
 
 "That's right, honey; that's right. You is the 
 magnificentest woman I ever did see. You ain't 
 got to tell me that." 
 
 " I'se so happy, sweetness, I is got to talk wif 
 you. I sort of got to t'inkin' dat Missis Florian 
 Slappey cain't do all what Sally Crouch would 
 do ain't dat right?" 
 
 " You is always right, Sally." 
 
 " Yo' g'wan ! I wuk so hahd wid dis hotel an' I 
 got sort of wond'rin' ef you'd want yo' wife to keep 
 on wukin' like w r hat I been doin'. . . ." 
 
 " You mean you want to know is I er willin' 
 you should keep on runnin' this hotel?" 
 
 " Da's it. Da's it. Yo' done said it dat time." 
 
 He crossed his legs and clasped slender, callous- 
 less hands over one knee. " Hon, I got awful lib- 
 'ral views ; 'bout the lib'ralist what is, I reckon. I 
 says a woman is got jes' as much right to work as 
 what a man is got. 'Course things'll be different 
 when we is married t'night, but I always says that 
 a woman is got her rights an' no man ain't got no 
 call takin' 'em from her." 
 
 " Da's right, Florian ; da's jes' right. But I 
 ain't want to take no 'portant step 'thout constultin' 
 you, an' today was de last day."
 
 08 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "How come that?" 
 
 " It's de lease. Is disaway, sweetness : I done 
 had a fo' yeah lease what says I got to gib dem 
 agents free months' notice ef I want it fo' another 
 two yeahs. I 'most fohgot dat ontil I happen to 
 look at de lease yestiddy. What I asks yo' adwice 
 about is should I sign it up ag'in or should I let it 
 drap?" 
 
 " I got them lib'ral views like what I done said," 
 he repeated earnestly, "an' I got a fine admiration 
 fo' a business woman specially when her busi- 
 ness is lucertive." 
 
 " It ain't de money, Florian ; it's de sediment. I 
 been a-wukin' dis hotel fo' yeahs. . . ." 
 
 " Tha's it, Sally; but the money counts too. I 
 ain't never been no man to sneer with money. An', 
 b'sides, ain't no matter what I thought I ain't got 
 no call to make you give up a business what's 
 makin' money like this hotel " 
 
 She nudged him kittenishly. "G'wan, Florian. 
 How come you t'ink dis hotel makin' money? " 
 
 " Huh? " He was momentarily nonplussed, then 
 chose his words carefully. " It is, ain't it? " 
 
 " No ! Ef 'twas makin' money I woul'n't of ast 
 yo' adwice. 'Tis disaway : de fust-off yeah I run it 
 I jes' 'bout break even; den de nex' yeah I make 
 'bout five hunderd dollars. Come de yeah after 
 I jes' 'bout bust' even, but dis yeah Lawdy ! wid 
 prices gone so high an' me jes' a-wukin' my fingers 
 to de bone an' detrenchin' sumpin' terrible de best- 
 est I could do was lose all what I is had saved up 
 an' some mo' besides." 
 
 "Not not really?" 
 
 " Sho' nuff. I ain't got no cause lyin' to you, is
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 69 
 
 I? An' I woul'n't go fo' to take de hotel fo' an- 
 other two yeahs ef you was apposed to it, sence 
 inebbe you might hab to put up de money to keep 
 it goin'." 
 
 Florian sat up very straight. Something was 
 radically wrong. He scrutinized the face of the 
 woman at his side and found nothing there but 
 guileless simplicity. He saw truth and a truth 
 which he did not want to believe. He couldn't be- 
 lieve it. " You mean you's broke f " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Plumb entirely broke? " 
 
 " Might' nigh." 
 
 " An' an' you sort of wanted to find out would 
 I stan' good fo' any losin's?" 
 
 "Not perzac'ly dat, sweetness. 'Course I ain't 
 gwine lose more'n two or free hundred dollar dis 
 yeah, an' I knows dat ain't nothin' to you; but I 
 sorter fought mebbe you should want me to sell de 
 furniture an' gib up de hotel . . . anyways, dat 
 would jes' 'bout clear up my debts." 
 
 " An' an' leave you how much in the bank? " 
 
 " I got 'bout sebenty dollars now. Ef I sold out 
 an' paid all my debts I don't hahdly reckon I'd 
 have nothin'. 'Course I'll have you, Hon, an' we'll 
 be pow'ful happy, an' sence you ain't got no o'jec- 
 tions against wuk, mebbe I'd git a job cookin' up 
 to de Claremont 'partraents . . . less'n ob co'se 
 you changes yo' mind an' decides you don't want 
 yo' wife to wuk a tall." 
 
 He passed a shaking hand across a perspiring 
 forehead. "I I ain't got no 'jections to you 
 workin'," he said in a slow, dazed manner. " It 
 ain't that "
 
 70 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Den yo' t'ink I better should keep de hotel? " 
 
 "I I guess so. ... Y'see, I cain't think so 
 awful good, Hon. I ain't feel in' jest so well. I 
 always thought this here hotel was the payin'est 
 thing. . . ." 
 
 She chuckled with good-natured amusement. 
 " Ev'ybody fought dat. But what dey t'inks ain't 
 bringin' in no dollars. 'Course I takes in plenty 
 money, but money ain't always profit, an' I 
 wasn't hankerin' to make my husband stan' fo' no 
 debts" 
 
 "That's right, Sally that's right." 
 
 " So I done been hones' wif you. Tonight I be- 
 comes Missis Florian Slappey an' I fought 
 mebbe you ain't want yo' wife to wuk like what 
 Sally Crouch done. It was right I should ask you 
 'bout disyer t'ing, ain't it, sweetness? " 
 
 " Yeh it was right, Sally. On'y I got to 'fess 
 it was a kind of s'prise. I thought this hotel was 
 the payin'est thing." 
 
 She rose : " You set dere a minute, sweetheart, 
 an' I'll show yo' my books." 
 
 One hour later Florian Slappey staggered blindly 
 into the street and clung helplessly to a lamppost. 
 The last scintilla of doubt had been dispelled. He 
 had seen cold, stark figures: black on white. He 
 shuddered at the prospect ... he trembled at what 
 he had done Blossom gone and himself pledged 
 to marry this fat creature who not only had no 
 money but calmly proposed to saddle his insolvent 
 self with her indebtedness. An old crony swag- 
 gered along the pavement and flashed a roll of bills 
 under Florian's nose : " They's others that's in 
 soft," he boasted.
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 71 
 
 " How come? " asked Florian, only mildly inter- 
 ested. 
 
 " Lott'ry." 
 
 " What yo' play? " 
 
 " Green Back gig." 
 
 " Huh ! " Florian experienced a thrill of ex- 
 citement: he had played the three numbers of the 
 Green Back gig with a fourth one added. " Yo' 
 play free or fo'?" 
 
 "Three: 18-44-45." 
 
 " Sixty-one ain't happen to come out, too, is it? " 
 
 " You play them fo' straight? " 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 The other inspected the printed list distributed 
 by Ramsay to his patrons. " Tough luck. Ain't 
 no 61 on it." 
 
 " Guess I might've knowed that," snorted Flo- 
 rian disgustedly. " 'Cause if they had been I'd 
 of won five hundred dollars. All the luck's ag'n 
 me today." 
 
 The other laughed light-heartedly : " You al- 
 ways was a li'l joker, Florian." 
 
 Slappey glared balefully at his affluent friend, 
 half inclined to quarrel. One more number just 
 one more right one included in the dozen drawn 
 from the wheel that morning would have made 
 him temporarily wealthy. Discretion prompted 
 " Lemme five dollars." 
 
 " Cain't." 
 
 " How come? " 
 
 "I I'm owin' this." 
 
 "Fo'?" 
 
 " Honest, Florian. . . ." 
 
 " Th'ee-fifty? "
 
 72 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " You don't onderstan' " 
 
 " Th'ee? " 
 
 " I c'n len' you a dollar," hedged the other des- 
 perately. 
 
 Florian took the dollar ungraciously and made 
 his way down the street musing bitterly on the 
 miserliness of his friends. Luck was certainly not 
 running his way. 
 
 At that he retained enough of his sense of hu- 
 mour to chuckle at the irony of it. Blossom, at 
 worst, would merely not have been an asset : Sally 
 promised to be a heavy liability. There was still 
 hope for him. He was not yet married to Sally. 
 Suppose . . . 
 
 Florian became poignantly aware of the fact that 
 he faced a vital strategic problem. Already the 
 corps of amateur decorators were busy disfiguring 
 the parlour of Sally's white elephant hotel. His 
 feet led him past the hall of The Sons & Daughters 
 of I Will Arise. They hailed him jovially and 
 through a window he glimpsed certain present and 
 past-grand potentates in the gilt and finery of their 
 drill uniforms and gilt swords. He mooned si- 
 lently through City Park, retraced his steps to the 
 congested centre where he had met Blossom the 
 fateful day which marked the termination of their 
 dream of love and subconsciously his feet carried 
 him into the ornate lobby of the Penny Prudential 
 Bank Building. And as he crossed to the bank of 
 elevators his lips expanded slowly to a broad, 
 triumphant grin. 
 
 Florian Slappey had evolved another scheme. 
 
 The ceremony was scheduled for eight-thirty. 
 At seven the last of the dinner guests finished the
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 73 
 
 evening repast, and Sally's assistants cleared away 
 the debris. Then they entered Sally's room and 
 became French maids. 
 
 Sally was desperately fastening an expensive 
 corset about her expansive figure. One female 
 friend was assisting valiantly. Another struggled 
 nobly to lace the white kid boots which did fairly 
 well at the feet but were totally inadequate to the 
 difficulties presented by the elephantine ankles. A 
 foam of lace and lingerie was scattered about on the 
 bed, and atop it all a creamy satin wedding gown. 
 
 Before the hotel the fife and drum corps of The 
 Sons & Daughters of I Will Arise blared nobly and 
 the drill squad executed its evolutions soberly 
 cheered on by a batallion of wide-eyed urchins of 
 the Ethiopian persuasion. A carriage containing 
 the Reverend Plato Tubb of the First African M. E. 
 Church drove up to the door and the drill team 
 from the lodge furnished him a guard of honour 
 up the narrow stairway to the parlour. 
 
 The guests arrived bearing their wedding gifts: 
 pink electroliers, boxes of plated ware, clothes for 
 the bride. . . . These were spread on a camou- 
 flaged kitchen table in the centre of the parlour be- 
 side the donations from former employers of Sally. 
 
 As for the bride she was fluttery as though her 
 age was twenty instead of thirty-five ; and her figure 
 thirty-six instead of ten inches more than that. 
 For the first time in her life Sally Crouch held the 
 centre of the social stage, and she had every cause 
 to exult in her achievement. 
 
 Hitherto Sally had been regarded more as a per- 
 son than as a woman. The sudden shift of Flori- 
 an's affections from the magnificent Blossom to
 
 74 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 the more girthy negress was patently a tactical vie 
 tory on her part. No one in the community sus- 
 pected that Florian might be marrying her for 
 money . . . for there was no one in the community 
 who guessed that Florian was anything but flushed 
 with worldly goods. 
 
 The Reverend Plato Tubb sent word of his readi- 
 ness. Sally gave a fair imitation of a pirouette 
 before the mirror. " Y'ain't t'ink I is look so bad, 
 is you, Eva? " 
 
 " Lawsy, Mis' Sally I ain't never saw a pret- 
 tier bride." 
 
 " 'Course I ain't got no figure. . . ." 
 
 "Ain' no man gwine look fo' no figure when 
 you got them swell clothes." 
 
 " Ev'ybody here? " 
 
 " Ev'ybody. Drill team f 'um the Lodge an' ev'y- 
 thing." 
 
 " Where's Mister Slappey? " 
 
 "Dunno. . . . Livonia, yo' know whar is Mr. 
 Slappey at? " 
 
 " Uh-uh ! Ain't saw him." 
 
 " Go fin' him an' tell him we's ready." 
 
 Ten minutes later Livonia returned, her fore- 
 head puckered. " Cain't find Mister Slappey, Mis' 
 Sally." 
 
 "'Cain't find. . . . Whaffo' you mean by dat?" 
 
 " He ain't yeah, da's all." 
 
 " You ast them Lodge members? " 
 
 " Yup. Dey ain't saw him." 
 
 " You mean dey ain't nobody saw him yeah a 
 tall t'night? " 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 Sally Crouch's thick lips came together firmly.
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 75 
 
 Gathering her bridal train in one large, white- 
 gloved hand, and followed In' her retinue, she sailed 
 into the parlour. She faced the audience belliger- 
 ently. " Looka yeah, coloured folks : I ain't keer 
 how much jokes you play after dis ceremony done 
 been over, but I ain't gwine stan' fo' no fumadid- 
 dles now. Whar Mister Slappey? " 
 
 "Really, Mis' Sally" Reverend Plato Tubb 
 bustled forward. " They all done said . . ." 
 
 " I ain't keer whut dey done said, Reverend 
 Tubb " A small boy entered the door, fought his 
 way to Sally, and forced a crumpled envelope into 
 her hand. " Letter for you, Mis' Sally." 
 
 " Ain' gwine be bothered with no letter." 
 
 " It's fum Mister Slappey." 
 
 Sally opened the letter with trembling fingers: 
 then, without a word, she perused its contents and 
 handed it over to the Reverend Plato Tubb 
 
 DR. VIVIAN SIMMONS, M.D. 
 
 Surgeon & Physician 
 Rates: Office Visit $1. Office Hours: 
 
 House Visit $2. 9-10 A. M. 1-2 p. u. 
 
 All Accounts Cash. 
 TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN (and especially Miss Sally 
 
 Crouch) 
 
 This is to certify that I have on this day examined the patient, 
 Mr. Florian Slappey, Esquire, and find that he seems to have 
 acute articular rheumatism ; indigestion ; a slight fever and 
 simptoms of neuritus. on account of which this is to certify 
 that he is unable to attend his wedding tonight and should be 
 excused. Also I certify that he isn't in no physical condition 
 to get married shortly. 
 
 Given under my hand and seal this fifteenth day of June. 
 
 Dr. VIVIAN SIMMONS, M.D. 
 Witness : 
 Doll White. 
 
 That night Florian Slappey had a dream. He
 
 76 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 dreamed that he was on a railroad train bound for 
 Nashville and the delights of Blossom Prioleau. 
 The train reached Decatur, Alabama there was 
 a crash, a rending of timbers and Florian felt him- 
 self pitched through a window to land easily and 
 hurtlessly on the turf. 
 
 He sat up in bed, eyes wide and slender figure 
 trembling. The dream had been fearfully vivid. 
 He rose and turned on the light to make quite sure 
 that it was a dream. Down the hall he heard the 
 voice of an irate woman : " Yo'-all better be keer- 
 ful how you goes a-slammin' doors thisyer time o' 
 night ! " 
 
 Pretty girl train wreck ! The main facts of 
 his dream remained distinct even now that sleep 
 had been banished. Florian had an idea. He hus- 
 tled across the room, opened the lid of a battered 
 trunk and extracted from the tray a much thumbed 
 volume which bore the title : 
 
 PBOF. HANNIFEB'S PERFECT DSEAM BOOK 
 With Translations into Lottery Numbers 
 
 He consulted the index, and finally turned to 
 page 79. 
 
 Should you dream of a handsome woman In conjunction with 
 a train wreck you will have enormous luck. Borrow one 
 dollar from a friend without telling him your reasons. Play a 
 quarter on each of the following in the morning lottery with 
 instructions to carry winnings over to the afternoon lottery : 
 
 Train Gig 15-45-63 
 
 Little Louse Gig 1-2-3 
 
 Baby Gig 1-12-40 
 
 Blood Gig 5-10-21 
 
 Play these for a single number to win. With your winnings 
 play the following five numbers straight in the afternoon lot- 
 tery : 
 
 9-17-39-46-78
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 77 
 
 At eight o'clock the following morning Florian 
 Slappey approached Phillip Simpson and requested 
 the loan of a dollar. 
 
 "Huh? Whut you want wid a dollar, Flo- 
 rian? " 
 
 " Cain't say. But I wants it, an' I got to borry 
 it." 
 
 " Ain't you got a dollar? " 
 
 " Yeh." 
 
 Simpson's eyes brightened : " Tell you what I'll 
 do : I'll lend you a dollar ef you gib me a dollar 
 as 'scurity." 
 
 Florian speculated. The dream book ordered 
 him to borrow a dollar. ..." That's all right," 
 said he, and the exchange of money was solemnly 
 made. Phillip winked portentously. " Hope dat 
 gig draws out de lott'ry, Florian." 
 
 " I ain't said nothin' 'bout no gig, Phillip." 
 
 " You ain't need to. I had dem dreams my own 
 self." 
 
 Jackson Ramsay, the policy king, welcomed Flo- 
 rian warmly. " Renegged on the marriage game, 
 Florian? " 
 
 Florian cocked one eye. " I is a sick man, Mis- 
 ter Ramsay : too sick to git married." 
 
 " Sure I know. What can I do for you this 
 morning? " 
 
 " Quarter each on train row, baby row, little 
 louse row an' blood row: one, two, three numbers 
 out winnin's to be carry over from Pool to Ginu- 
 wine ef they is any winnin's an' played 
 straight on 9-17-39-46-78." 
 
 " Straight on five numbers? You certainly 
 aren't very anxious to win."
 
 78 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Yassuh, Boss, I am. But I ain't no piker, 
 Cap'n. It's big or nothin'. . . ." 
 
 " I've never known of a man winning five straight 
 on my lottery." 
 
 " They's a fust time to ev'ything, Cap'n." 
 
 Ramsay nodded, took the borrowed dollar and 
 wrote the tickets. "Hanging around, Slappey? " 
 
 " Nossuh. Got business to home. 'Fraid that 
 almost wife of mine might come 'round to see how 
 I'm gittin' 'long." 
 
 Florian proved himself an excellent prognostica- 
 tor. At half past ten o'clock the stairway of his 
 boarding house creaked ominously under the enor- 
 mous weight of Sally Crouch. 
 
 Florian had set his stage with a keen eye to 
 Sally's sense of the proprieties. On the dresser 
 stood a half-empty bottle of suspicious shape and 
 odour. A few pictures which never could have been 
 sent through the Comstock'd mails adorned the 
 walls. Her entrance found him propped in a chair 
 immersed in the pictorial section of the latest Po- 
 lice Gazette. He spoke without turning his head. 
 " 'Lo, Sally." 
 
 " Honey ! " Her arms went about his neck and 
 she implanted a moist kiss on his neck. He 
 abruptly brought the other two legs of his chair to 
 the floor. " Careful, Sally. You might' nigh up- 
 sot me an' Doc Simmons says I ain't in no condition 
 to stan' no sudden shock." 
 
 " I wanted to come 'round' las' night, Flo- 
 rian. . . ." 
 
 " I was pow'ful sick, Sally. Might' sorry, of 
 course, that I couldn't git to come to my wed- 
 din' "
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 79 
 
 Something suspiciously like a sob expanded her 
 bosom. " I was pow'ful dis'pointed, sweetness. 
 An' de guesses et up all de supper I done had fix'. 
 When you gits well we'll jes' hab a private cery- 
 mony wid' de Rev'end Tubb." 
 
 Florian's heart sank. He was afraid that she 
 was still determined. " I been thinkin', Sally " 
 
 " Yeh, sweetness? " 
 
 " That after what th' Doc done tol' me mebbe 
 it ain't fair to no woman to make marriage with 
 her right now, sick like I am." 
 
 Sally's eyes narrowed slightly. " You needs a 
 woman's care'u tenshun, Florian. An' you talks 
 like you was tryin' to hitch out." 
 
 " 'Tain't that a tall, Hon. Ef 'twasn't fo' the 
 booze " 
 
 She sniffed. " I smelled it." 
 
 " Sure. That's the trouble. Doc says I needs 
 to drink it to keep my heart a-goin' an' it makes 
 me pow'ful wilV 
 
 "Hmph!" she retorted coldly: " Reck'n Sally 
 Crouch c'n handle de wildest man ! " 
 
 He shook his head solemnly. " That's right, 
 Sally but I guess I ain't go no right askin' no 
 woman to work fo' me " 
 
 " How come you make talk 'bout wukin' fo' 
 you?" 
 
 " / cain't work," he pleaded desperately, a bit 
 alarmed by a rising inflection in her voice. " Doc 
 Simmons done say so. An' sence I lost all my 
 money spec'latin'. . . ." 
 
 Sally rose suddenly, and placed her hands on 
 hips. Her lips came together tightly and she sur- 
 veyed her might-have-been spouse witheringly:
 
 80 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Mister Florian Slappey, is you mean to sit dey 
 an' tell me you is broke? " 
 
 " Uh-huh ! I is." 
 
 " An' an' you was aimin' to marry me an' 
 lemme s'port you? " 
 
 He was thoroughly alarmed by her manner. 
 The bosom was heaving and the flood-gates were 
 perilously near to opening. " You got me all 
 wrong, Hon. I ain't aimin' to let you s'port me. 
 I sort of got a pride 'bout that. I jes' tellin' you 
 that my health ain't so good. . . ." 
 
 For perhaps fifteen consecutive seconds Sally 
 stared at the thoroughly cowed Florian. Then 
 suddenly she crumpled into a chair, buried her face 
 in her palms and large, voluble sobs caused the 
 room to tremble: "Oh! my Gawd! all men is 
 alike! Dey ain' none ob dem don't try'n take ad- 
 wantage ob a girl. I might've know r ed he ain't wan' 
 nothin' but de money he fought I had ! I might've 
 knowed dat ef I wa'n't so blind. Oh ! Lawdy ! 
 An' he goes'n makes me redikerlous ! He goes an' 
 does dat " 
 
 Florian crossed the room and patted her fear- 
 fully on a shaking shoulder. "Here now, Sally, 
 Hon that ain't no way to carry on ! That ain't 
 no way a tall. . . ." 
 
 " You lemme go, you wuthless no-'count. Take 
 yo' hands offen me. I got a good min' . . ." She 
 rose and faced him, fury and thwarted love flashing 
 from her eyes. He retreated precipitately to a far 
 corner and held a warding hand before him. 
 
 " Here now, Sally that ain't no kind of way for 
 no lady to ac'. . . ." 
 
 " I'se finish' wid bein' a lady," she flamed. " I'se
 
 POOL AND GIN U WINE 81 
 
 finish' wid dat I Huh ! yo' t'ink I gwine s'poht you ! 
 Ain't de bestest man ever live' Sally Crouch would 
 wuk fo\" 
 
 " That's right, Sally; that's right. I ain't wuth 
 it" 
 
 " No, you ain't, you li'l low-down cheap spoht. 
 I glad I foun' you out in time. I am' gwine lay 
 hand on you, Florian not till yet. On'y I warn 
 you dis, don't you make de mistake ob comin' widin' 
 smelliu' distance ob my hotel. You heah me? " 
 
 He nodded energetically. "Is you got to be 
 goin'?" 
 
 She put her hand on the knob. " I ain't got to 
 is, but Ise gwine, Florian jes' 'cause ain't no girl 
 safe wid you fo' long ! " 
 
 Sally's departure effected a quick cure for Flo- 
 rian's malady. Less than half an hour after she 
 left the house he was garbed in cream flannels with 
 a straw hat perched jauntily on the side of his 
 head and a once-broken but cleverly-spliced ma- 
 lacca cane on his arm. Quite as a matter of habit 
 he made his way to the room where Jackson Ram- 
 say held forth as policy king. The bets of the morn- 
 ing lottery Pool had been paid off and Flo- 
 rian casually inspected the dozen numbers which 
 had been drawn from the seventy-eight in the wheel 
 and posted on the board. Number 63 of the Train 
 Gig was on the list. 
 
 " That paid you a dollar," greeted Ramsay cheer- 
 ily. " Gives you an even break on the morning 
 bets. I carried it over to five straight on the Genu- 
 ine this afternoon." 
 
 Florian nodded happily. Matrimonial troubles 
 seemed far behind. " 'Twas on the Train Gig, too,
 
 82 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Cap'n. I reckon Florian Slappey's 'bout due to 
 come in fo' a good-luck break." 
 
 " Not with five straight,'' gloomed the policy king. 
 " It has never yet been done." 
 
 " Hrnph ! They's other things been done today 
 ain't never been done befo'. I got a hunch this 
 my lucky day." 
 
 The hunch persisted despite Florian's veteran 
 knowledge of lottery wheels. He had played five 
 numbers straight : which meant that from seventy- 
 eight numbers in the wheel his five must all be in- 
 cluded in the dozen to be drawn. Should four of 
 them appear he would get nothing but should 
 all five come out he would be paid two thousand 
 five hundred dollars for the dollar carried over by 
 Ramsay from Pool to Genuine. 
 
 Had Florian been a piker he w r ould have sad- 
 dled his bet, in which event the success of his 
 chosen quintet would pay 200 for 1 instead of 2,500 
 for 1. But, on the other hand, the appearance of 
 four of his five would pay 80 for 1 instead of noth- 
 ing, and three of the five would net 20 for 1. The 
 negroes of the city had played policy six days a 
 week since carpet-bagger times and the winning 
 of a five straight had never been known. But it 
 was innate gamblers of the Florian Slappey breed 
 which made Jackson Ramsay w r ith his elaborate 
 central office and twenty-odd branches and agents 
 through the city certain of a sizeable daily profit. 
 
 Florian shambled about the negro section during 
 the long, sultry afternoon elaborating upon the 
 symptoms which Dr. Vivian Simmons had outlined 
 in his alibi letter. In response to repeated state- 
 ments that he never looked better in his life, Flo-
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 83 
 
 rian said that his questioners were not physicians 
 and therefore could not understand a man's in- 
 nards. He tried to appear ill and failed miserably. 
 He was too exalted by his hunch. 
 
 The Genuine was to be drawn at six o'clock. At 
 five-thirty Florian Slappey was on hand, teetering 
 a battered old chair on its hind legs. He puffed 
 tensely on a cheroot and muttered to himself over 
 and over again that he would not win. But the 
 hunch would not down. 
 
 It was a dingy room lacking all the tawdry finery 
 which the central offices had boasted in the palmy 
 days of police tolerance. In one corner was the 
 printing machine on which the lucky numbers were 
 stamped out and in the foreground on a platform 
 a huge glass wheel. Spread out on a table were 
 little squares of paper on which numbers from 1 
 to 78 had been printed. Behind the table was the 
 desk of Jackson Ramsay and a small steel safe. 
 Beside the policy king sat his ebony secretary. 
 
 Within five minutes of Florian's advent the 
 agents began to arrive from the various sub-offices 
 scattered about the city and the bets were trans- 
 ferred from their l>ooks to the central office books. 
 Interested bettors drifted in silently and seated 
 themselves tensely. Most of them were regulars, 
 men who played the lottery morning and afternoon, 
 winning enough here and there to supply them with 
 the money to lose later on. At three minutes be- 
 fore six the clerical work had been completed, the 
 numbers from one to seventy-eight were folded un- 
 der the eyes of the two-score spectators and dropped 
 through a panel into the glass wheel. When the 
 last one had disappeared the panel was shut and
 
 84 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 the wheel spun to mix the numbers. A little boy 
 was brought in from the street and carefully blind- 
 folded. 
 
 Silence settled over the gathering. The negroes, 
 ranging in age from sixteen to sixty ; in colour from 
 a creamy chocolate to blackest ebony; leaned for- 
 ward in their chairs and stared fascinatedly at the 
 transparent wheel. Jackson Ramsay nodded and 
 the thing spun violently, the seventy-eight numbers 
 within tossing about in sight of all. 
 
 And then the wheel stopped and the panel was 
 opened. The blindfolded boy reached in a skinny 
 arm and extracted a bit of paper. The quiet was 
 oppressive. Slowly Ramsay unfolded the paper, 
 and held it up to the gaze of the bettors. 
 
 "Seventy-eight!" 
 
 The secretary wrote the number on a huge black- 
 board. The printer at his little machine slipped in 
 two pieces of type and printed the figure which was 
 displayed to the spectators and placed in a little 
 rack. 
 
 Florian Slappey drew in his breath sharply. 
 Seventy-eight was one of his five. Of course. . . . 
 
 "Thirty-nine!" 
 
 Another one! Ten more numbers to be drawn 
 and two of his had already appeared ! 
 
 "Forty-six!" 
 
 Another! Three out of three! Already if he 
 had saddled his bet he would be twenty dollars 
 to the good. He was on his feet now, heart pound- 
 ing and temples throbbing; muttering to himself 
 all the incantations taught by Professor Hanuifer's 
 Dream Rook. Three out of three! Nine more 
 numbers to be drawn and only two more needed.
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 85 
 
 Nine and seventeen! Nine and seventeen! If 
 only. . . . Nine and seventeen . . . and two thou- 
 sand five hundred dollars! 
 
 " Seventy-one! " 
 
 Slappey sighed and settled back in his chair, pay- 
 iiig no heed to the wild shrieks of a woman who 
 had bet twenty cents on 46-71-78 and had won 
 forty dollars thereby. For ten minutes her paens 
 of joy continued until Jackson Ramsay paid her 
 oil in five-dollar bills and sent her from the place. 
 
 But seventy-one was not on Florian's list. Still, 
 there were eight more numbers to be drawn and 
 only two were needed. If only they'd come . . . 
 the needed nine and seventeen : 
 
 " Nine! " 
 
 " Oo-o-o-oh ! " came the wail from Florian Slap- 
 pey's chair. He rose and crossed to the wheel, 
 great beads of perspiration on his forehead. The 
 word went round that he had played five-straight 
 and that four of them had already appeared. 
 "What you need?" wheezed one old woman. 
 " Which un you need, Florian? " 
 
 " Seventeen . . . seventeen ! Pray fo' that sev- 
 enteen, niggers. Pray fo' it, all of you." 
 
 Seven more to come. Seven more numbers and 
 only one needed to make Florian wealthy. Seven 
 numbers out of seventy-two left in the wheel! 
 
 "Three!" 
 
 Florian's breathing was audible. Six more 
 chances. Six more. . . . 
 
 "Sixty-three!" 
 
 Five chances left. And number seventeen 
 needed. " Come, you number seventeen ! Come t' 
 yo' daddy, ol' darlin' ! "
 
 86 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Twenty!" 
 
 Four more chances. Four more chances for sev- 
 enteen to come. Florian's fists were clenched. 
 His excitement had spread about the room. Even 
 the man who had won a paltry ten dollars with a 
 five cent bet centered his attention on Florian's 
 fight for the needed seventeen. "OP Daddy's 
 a-lookin' fo' you, seventeen! Come out, you 
 beauty ! Or seventeen's a-comin' to his Daddy " 
 
 " Eighteen ! " 
 
 " Oh ! you seventeen ! Tree mo' chancsts. Jes' 
 come out one in that three, oP seventeen, an' I'll 
 never ast you to come out no mo'." 
 
 "Thirty-two!" 
 
 Two more to be drawn. Two more . . . sixty- 
 eight numbers left in the wheel. . . . 
 
 " Seventy-seven ! " 
 
 " A-a-a-a-ah ! OF seventeen. . . . Come out, 
 darlin'! Come t' yo' Daddy, oP seventeen. Ain' 
 never ast you no mo' ef you'll come this time. . . ." 
 
 Florian's face was pathetic. The perspiration 
 streamed from it. The darkies who crowded the 
 room had forgotten everything save Florian and 
 his bet. One more number to be drawn: sixty- 
 seven in the wheel. His fingers closed spasmod- 
 ically. Veteran professional gambler though he 
 was Jackson Ramsay felt the strain ... he was 
 shaking from head to foot . . . shaking and fid- 
 gety. . . . One more chance. . . . 
 
 The skinny arm of the blindfolded negro boy 
 stretched timidly into the wheel. His fingers 
 closed about a folded slip of paper. " Come, oP 
 da'lin' seventeen. . . ." The paper dropped from 
 the trembling fingers. The sigh that went up could
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 87 
 
 have been heard a half-block away. Perhaps that 
 was seventeen which had been dropped. The boy 
 fished for another slip of paper . . . his fingers 
 closed about it. ... 
 
 Jackson Ramsay took it from his grasp. The 
 fat fingers of the policy king trembled visibly. He 
 opened it face outward so that the audience could 
 read the figure. ... It opened! A roar split the 
 roof. . . . 
 
 " Seventeen! " 
 
 At five minutes before midnight the northbound 
 Louisville & Nashville train puffed out of the shed. 
 In the negro coach was a dandified young man who 
 lounged comfortably in his seat and seemed in- 
 effably at peace with the world. The fingers of his 
 right hand never left his trousers pocket where 
 they caressingly fingered a roll of bills containing 
 something under two thousand five hundred dol- 
 lars in United States currency. 
 
 Florian Slappey was in the grip of a radiant 
 happiness which comes to but few men. After 
 blackest darkness rosiest dawn had come. He was 
 emancipated from money trouble, he had engraved 
 his name in policy history, he was well rid of the 
 too ardent and too stout Sally Crouch, and, above 
 all, he was speeding northward to lay his fortune 
 and his heart at the feet of the glorious Blossom 
 Prioleau. 
 
 Never had she seemed as desirable as at this 
 moment. Blossom and money! A honeymoon to 
 New York or St. Louis! An epoch-making wed- 
 ding! A handsomely furnished home! A phono- 
 graph ! Perhaps, even, a Ford !
 
 88 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Florian Slappey did not sleep that night. He 
 was too drunk with unalloyed joy. His dreams 
 were waking ones . . . and all of Blossom. 
 
 At seven o'clock he left the train, climbed a long 
 flight of steps, passed through the coloured waiting- 
 room and stepped into the street. Nashville was 
 rousing itself sleepily from a cool, pleasant night. 
 Street cars clanged impatiently before the Union 
 Station, jitneys scudded up and down the avenue 
 to the left he could see the beckoning gates of 
 Parthenon Park. 
 
 Florian turned to his right and a block down 
 the street stopped at a restaurant where he ate 
 heartily of bacon and eggs and pancakes and coffee. 
 At eight-fifteen he entered a negro barber shop and 
 was shaved and shined and shampoo'd. 
 
 Then he resumed his march down the street until 
 a cross street gave him a glimpse of the Tennessee 
 State Capitol to the left. He followed this street 
 leisurely until he reached the imposing grey-stone 
 edifice, where he paused to admire impartially. 
 
 His watch told him that the hour of nine-thirty 
 had been reached. He resumed his walk pass- 
 ing the Capitol and descending a very steep hill 
 toward a section where the coloured royalty re- 
 sides. He took a short cut through an alley. On 
 the corner of the alley and the next avenue was the 
 Prioleau family home. 
 
 He walked slowly, wishing to surprise Blossom. 
 He approached the cottage from the rear. His 
 heart bounded! 
 
 There was Blossom on the veranda: Blossom, 
 radiant, alluring, irresistible, delicious in a waist
 
 POOL AND GINUWINE 89 
 
 of yellow georgette crepe, a skirt of red serge, lace 
 boots of grey. He started toward her. . . . 
 
 A handsome limousine rolled down the street and 
 stopped before the Prioleau house. The negro 
 chauffeur leaped to the ground and opened the 
 door for his mistress: a regal example of the best 
 of Nashville's white folks. The lady spoke to Blos- 
 som in dulcet, soothing tones. " I'm looking for 
 Blossom Prioleau," she said. 
 
 "Well?" answered Blossom noncommittally. 
 
 " Are you Blossom Prioleau? " 
 
 " I was," came the soft answer. " I'm Missis 
 'Zekiel Roth well now!" 
 
 "Oh!" The lady was taken back a bit, and 
 then, just because she felt that it was up to her 
 to explain : " I'm looking for a washwoman. . . ." 
 
 " So am I," returned Blossom conversationally. 
 " Servants is pow'ful hahd to get these days, ain't 
 they? " 
 
 Florian Slappey turned abruptly and retraced 
 his steps up the alley. Blossom married mar- 
 ried commercially. He was surprised and infi- 
 nitely pained. He had thought better of her than 
 that. 
 
 His fingers pressed against the huge roll of bills. 
 Two thousand five hundred dollars ! A warm glow 
 of satisfaction stole over him. 
 
 " Well, anyway," he murmured philosophically, 
 "'reckon I ain't got no call 'specting ev'ything to 
 break my way ! "
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 
 
 ELIAS RUSH waked to find himself a 
 hero. His eyes flickered open upon a sea 
 of anxious faces ranging in colour from 
 uncompromising black to a rich, creamy yellow. 
 Babel beat upon his water-soaked eardrums: 
 " Stan' back, coloured folks. Ain't yo'-all see he's 
 comin' too?" " Giv'm air!" "You, Florian 
 Slappey, quit that there trespassin' on my toes 
 you want to t'row me over on him?" "Stan' 
 back stan' back yonder comes Doc Simmons ! " 
 
 Dr. Vivian Simmons, slender, immaculate, pom- 
 pous ; his rich chocolate complexion framed behind 
 horn-rimmed spectacles, shouldered through the 
 crowd, dropped to one knee beside the water- 
 logged sufferer and produced a stethoscope. He 
 fitted the tubes into his ears, opened Elias's near- 
 silk shirt, palmed his watch and frowned porten- 
 tously. Then he rose, shook his head gravely and 
 summoned to his aid the dandified Florian Slappey. 
 
 Of what occurred immediately thereafter Elias 
 Rush has an indistinct but decidedly painful recol- 
 lection. Somebody magically produced a barrel 
 and some one else placed Mr. Rush, face down, 
 across it. Strong hands seized his feet and under 
 the direction of Dr. Simmons, and without heed to 
 the patient's wild yells, proceeded to knead his 
 tummy. 
 
 The treatment was heroic, the results more 
 
 93
 
 94 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 than satisfactory. Eventually Elias Rush stood 
 on his own feet ; very weak and infernally trembly. 
 Water cascaded from his Sunday clothes, which 
 were shrinking alarmingly despite their all-wool 
 guarantee. His eyes roved above the heads of the 
 coloured human mass to rest upon the amusement 
 devices of Blue Lake Park: the Shoot the Chutes, 
 the Roller Coaster, the blatant Carousel and the 
 dozen or more eating concessions. He was no 
 longer even mildly interested until his gaze 
 lighted upon a crowd nearby absorbedly engaged 
 in a task which reminded him nauseatingly of the 
 barrel experience he had just survived. Then re- 
 membrance of the wherefores returned. 
 
 There had been a hiring of a rowboat and a tenta- 
 tive poking about in the middle of the lake. He 
 remembered watching with impersonal interest the 
 bobbing head of a Venus-like young coloured lady 
 who dared the deepest part of the lake then a 
 sudden facial twisting of terror, a plunge . . . and 
 a long-drawn whooshy howl. 
 
 He had leaped to the bow of his skiff in the at- 
 tempt to seize the arm of the drowning girl. But 
 she sank before he got there. His boat drifted 
 away. Tough luck. . . . But as he drew back his 
 foot slipped and he found himself in the water. 
 Thereupon he grabbed for whatever was nearest 
 and it proved to be Imogene. He clung to her 
 frantically and both went down. 
 
 Once, many years before, Elias Rush had been 
 able to swim. His little knowledge came to his aid, 
 terror-spurred. He struggled like a madman to 
 free himself from the girl's desperate clutch. He 
 managed to remain above the surface long enough
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 95 
 
 to grab the side of his boat. There- he clung . . . 
 and Fate itself couldn't have broken his clutch. 
 He was pale green with terror. He was scarcely 
 conscious of the woman whose plump, rounded 
 arms clasped his thin neck. It was fortunate for 
 Imogene that her head happened to be above wa- 
 ter. 
 
 In the first place he was not intended to be a 
 hero. He was not of the stuff of which heroes are 
 made. All his life he had been shy, wistful, re- 
 tiring ; keeping alw r ays in the rear ranks of a crowd, 
 shunning leather-voiced, coarsed-mouthed men and 
 finding himself excessively timid in the presence of 
 women . . . and especially beautiful ones. 
 
 The head of Dr. Vivian Simmons rose command- 
 ingly above the crowd ganged about the prostrate 
 Imogene. He beckoned authoritatively to Elias 
 and Elias sloshed uncertainly to the centre of the 
 circle. 
 
 He gazed down at the girl and for the first time 
 experienced a warm glow of satisfaction in the 
 knowledge that he had saved her life. Truly she 
 was a regal creature : a woman he had known only 
 in his love-studded dreams. She was large and 
 rounded and amply curved and well, he was not 
 too ill to notice that the bathing suit she wore con- 
 cealed none of her feminine charms. 
 
 Her dusky face was a bit paler than normal, but 
 the look she bestowed upon Elias Rush's bedrag- 
 gled figure was not hard to interpret. She ques- 
 tioned him direct : 
 
 "Is you him?" 
 
 "Is ialwhof" 
 
 " Is you the man what saved my life? "
 
 96 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Shy _ bashful . . . Elias fidgeted. " That warn't 
 nothin'." 
 
 " 'Twas too." 
 
 Elias was not an argumentative chap which was 
 why his disclaimer of intention never passed the tip 
 of his tongue where it momentarily hung trembling. 
 Besides, he was beginning to take stock of him- 
 self. . . . 
 
 All about him was a buzz of conversation. Each 
 person of the thousands who had gathered at Blue 
 Lake for their regular Sunday outing had been 
 there for the special purpose of being an eye-witness 
 to Elias's rescue of the radiant Imogene. And 
 each eye-witness insisted on telling his story 
 feeling it incumbent upon him to supply some vital 
 detail which the last story-teller had overlooked. 
 Elias Rush listened pop-eyed to Florian Slappey, 
 who at that moment held the centre of the stage 
 
 " You folks ain't know what you is talkin' 'bout. 
 I was sittin' by the boat-house a-lookin' at that 
 Imogene 'cause I had a hunch they was somethin' 
 wrong the way she was strokin' 'bout. I says to 
 myself, I says: 'Florian, that they woman is 
 feelin' bad. Florian,' I says, ( she's gwine git in 
 trouble.' An' sho' 'nough, jes' 'bout that time she 
 gives a wiggle an' a twist an' down she goes. 
 
 " That there what yo'-all say his name is? " 
 
 " 'Lias Rush. He come up here from Dothan." 
 
 " I know all 'bout whar he come from. Anyway, 
 'Lias Rush was rowing right by there an' he give 
 one look an' seen her go down. He jes' a-leaped 
 fo' the front of the boat an' grabbed at her. But 
 he missed an' then he stood up jes' as ca'm an' cool 
 an' put his hands above his haid an' dove over.
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 97 
 
 Purties' dive I ever did see. Wen he come up he 
 had her but she was a-fightin' sumthin' terrible. 
 Any other man would of let go but he didn't. 
 Nossuh : not him. B'lieve me, folks, that was the 
 terriblest fight I ev' did see. Fin'ly they come up 
 ag'in an' he jus' plumb grabbed her by the neck an' 
 swum fo' that boat. How he got there is a puzzle 
 to me an' I'm tellin' yo' I was watchin' close. 
 'Twas a even break they was both gwine git drown', 
 but he nev' let loose, not fo' one minute. I'm 
 tellin' yo', coloured folks, that there 'Lias Rush 
 from Dothan is a hero right ! " 
 
 Elias moved off meditatively in the direction of 
 the carousel. He felt a battery of approving eyes 
 upon him. The hum of enthusiastic : " Thar he 
 goes ! " " Da's de man what rescued Imogene Car- 
 ter: da's him." "Ain't he de modestest man?" 
 " Reckon dey ain't no real heroes goes boastin* 'bout 
 what dey done ! " 
 
 Elias Rush ceased to bemoan his soaked gar- 
 ments. They had become the habiliments of a 
 hero. The discourse of Florian Slappey had con- 
 verted him. Florian, in the first place, was dark- 
 town's social mentor; a wealthy young negro 
 magnificent in self-importance. In the second 
 place Florian had convinced him of facts that he 
 had not before realized. Of course he could have 
 let go of Imogene had he cared to do so. But he 
 wasn't that kind of a man : not him. 'Magine 'Lias 
 Rush leavin' a woman to drowned jes' to save 
 heself. Why, he'd risk his life any day to save 
 somebody else. It come jes' as easy. 
 
 A clerical looking gentleman fell into step be- 
 side him. " They tell me yo' name is 'Lias Rush."
 
 98 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Yassuh da's me." 
 
 " Stranger here? " 
 
 " Been heah 'bout a month. Up from Dothan." 
 
 "Living here?" 
 
 " Yassuh. Shuah is. Bought a half interest in 
 Pinetop Roller's pressin' club." 
 
 An ebony hand came out to clutch Elias's skinny 
 fingers. " I'm the Rev'end Plato Tubb of the Fust 
 African M. E. Chu'ch. It done me proud to see 
 how come you to save that gal. I wisht you would 
 come to services t'night at eight o'clock so's I c'n 
 offer up a prayer of thanks fo' the d'liverance of you 
 both." 
 
 Elias promised. He would hav< j promised any- 
 thing about then. He left the Reverend Tubb and 
 found himself hedged in by a crowd which de- 
 manded a personal recital of his heroism: 
 " 'Twarn't nothin'," disclaimed the hero. " Over 
 she go, an' over I go. Git in de water an' grab 
 her. Hoi' on. Swim in. Da's all. Ain't nothin' 
 to make no fusses over." 
 
 " I 'clare to goodness : heah dat man. Saves a 
 'ooman an' mos' dies an' says 'tain't nothin'." 
 
 Elias expanded to the occasion. " Co'se 'twarn't 
 nothin'. Jes' savin' a woman from drowndin'? 
 Sho' dat ain't nothin' tall! " 
 
 " Y'ain't never saved no others befo' this, is 
 you?" 
 
 "Save folks from drowndin'?" Elias's skinny 
 chest protruded with indignation. " Woman, you 
 talks foolish. Co'se I is save folks befo'. You 
 reckon I acted like I wasn't use' to it? " 
 
 A deep basso boomed across the lot : " Mi-i-isto* 
 Rush! Misto' Rush!"
 
 THE AMATEUK HERO 99 
 
 "Heah yis," shrilled a youngster in the group 
 about Elias. 
 
 A large, bullet-headed, well-dressed negro strode 
 across and towered above the diminutive hero. 
 "Is you 'Lias Rush?" 
 
 " I is." 
 
 "I'm Cla'nce Carter brother of the gal what 
 you done save her life. Lemme thank you. . . ." 
 
 " Da's a'right a'right. Jes' li'l excercise," an- 
 swered the exalted Elias, striving not to grimace 
 under the bone-crushing grip of the grateful 
 brother. 
 
 " Huh ! Reckon any man what'll save a gal 
 casyal like an' 'most drownd hisself doin' it ain't 
 goin' to boast 'bout it. But what I want to ast 
 you is what is yo' doin' this evenin' ? " 
 
 Nothin'. Why? " 
 
 " I got a cyar out heah I was thinkin' mebbe 
 you'd drive home with Imigene an' me, an' " with 
 an owlish wink, " take a bit of a nip to keep you 
 from catchin' col'." 
 
 Elias agreed readily, more than a little dazed 
 at the nonchalance with which the brother of the 
 girl he had saved spoke of his car. The car proved 
 to be a very presentable, six-cylinder, seven-passen- 
 ger affair, and Elias later learned that Clarence 
 made an extremely good living with that car in his 
 capacity of free lance taxicabber. 
 
 With Clarence at the wheel, Elias settled shiv- 
 eringly in the tonneau beside the still weak but 
 openly adoring Imogene. As they rolled out of the 
 gates of Blue Lake Park the crowd huzza'd a fare- 
 well. 
 
 If Imogene had appeared bewitching in her one-
 
 100 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 piece bathing suit, she was bewildering now. A 
 large red and white straw hat flopped tantalizingly 
 about her well-shaped head; she wore a V-cut, yel- 
 low crepe-de-chine waist and a white duck skirt. 
 Her face had assumed an appealing pallor, and 
 her lustrous black eyes shone into his with a frank 
 avowal of adoration. And scarcely had Clarence 
 let his gears in and sent the car rolling down the 
 smooth, white road toward the city than Imogene 
 nestled unashamedly against her damp hero and 
 snuggled a warm hand into his. 
 
 It was a new experience for Elias Rush. Of 
 course there had been women in his life . . . but 
 this regal product of the city, this radiant creature 
 of education and of culture, this this his 
 skinny fingers closed tightly about hers and he 
 sighed deeply. 
 
 "I ain't had no chancst to thank you, Mistuh 
 Rush. . . ." 
 
 Elias was a-tremble from head to foot: his ca- 
 pitulation to this first grande passion was as 
 thorough as it was nerve-wracking. " 'Twarn't 
 nothin'," he mumbled thickly, " 'twarn't nothin' 
 tall." 
 
 " Reckon / think different," she returned coyly. 
 " Ef you ha'n't risked yo' life I'd of been dead." 
 
 " Hmph ! Reckon I ain't lettin' no wimmin 
 drownd 'round whar I is at." 
 
 She spoke very softly : " I owes you my life 
 'Lias." 
 
 "G'wan wid you. . . ." His eyes met hers: 
 " Aw, sa-a-ay. . . ." 
 
 " I does." 
 
 " I ain't done nothin' tall. . . ."
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 101 
 
 " I owes you my life. But," wistfully, " I reckon 
 they ain't no way I c'n pay. . . ." 
 
 " Yes, dey is." 
 
 " How so? " 
 
 "You you " The years of chronic self-ef- 
 facement asserted themselves and Elias found him- 
 self tongue-tied on the verge of an avowal of love. 
 " 'Twarn't nothin' I done not nothin' tall." 
 
 "I owes you my life," she repeated doggedly. 
 "They ain't nothin' you could ast me I woul'n't 
 say yes to." 
 
 He flushed redly beneath his natural brunette. 
 " Y-y-yes, dey is." 
 
 " Not nothin'! " 
 
 " S-s-s-sposin' I ast you to to " 
 
 " To what? " she cooed softly. 
 
 " To to S'posin' I ast you to kiss me? " 
 
 Imogene flashed a quick glance around. The dis- 
 creet Clarence was gazing straight ahead. They 
 were speeding through a brief stretch of country 
 not a house within half a mile. 
 
 A pair of warm, plump arms wound suddenly 
 abont the thin neck of the delirious Elias, a pair of 
 luscious lips came close closer and were 
 pressed against his in a long, clinging kiss of sur- 
 render. He sighed mightily and shivered deli- 
 ciously. Then the lips withdrew and the arms 
 unwound. . . . 
 
 " Reckon that ain't nothin' to do fo' the man what 
 you owes yo' life to," defended the lady. 
 
 "I I ain't want no kiss ob gratitude," dared 
 Elias. 
 
 " What is it you wants? "
 
 102 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " It it's Reckon you wouldn't b'lieve me ef 
 I was to say ef I was to say " 
 
 "Ye-e-es?" 
 
 "I I'se pow'ful stuck on you, Imigene. 
 Co'se you is on'y jus' met me. . . ." 
 
 "Huh 'Lias! Reckon they ain't no woman 
 could help fallin' in love wid a man like you! " 
 
 During the three days which followed Elias Rush 
 became aware of the fact that he had grossly un- 
 derrated himself. All his life he had been shy 
 and bashful and retiring. At social affairs in Do- 
 than he had been a congenital wall-flower. The 
 elderly women and the old men liked him, and chil- 
 dren found him congenial. But among those of 
 his age he had been supine avoiding turmoil and 
 strife and argument as one shuns the plague. 
 
 In fact, when the opportunity of buying a half- 
 partnership in Pinetop Roller's Pressing Club for 
 two hundred and fifty dollars, which amount in- 
 cluded fees for Hon. Evans Chew, coloured attor- 
 ney and counsellor at law, presented itself, Elias 
 held back for some time because he was secretly 
 afraid of the big city in which the business was 
 located. That he had accepted eventually had been 
 principally due to the professional efforts of the 
 aforementioned Chew, whose fees from the parties 
 of the first and second parts hung in the balance. 
 
 His unwilling rescue of the divine Imogene 
 taught Elias many hitherto unsuspected things re- 
 garding himself. He had experienced, for one 
 thing, the exquisite agony of requited love. He 
 learned that he was a hero. He learned, further- 
 more, that since he had proved his prowess in pub-
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 103 
 
 lie, that same public was eager to believe anything 
 which he might say in private. And whatever 
 Elias may have lacked in bulk of body he more 
 than made up in flexibility of imagination. His 
 tales of derring-do became wilder and more im- 
 probable with every telling, but his audiences had 
 seen for themselves and were in no mood to doubt. 
 He was, figuratively speaking, handed around on 
 a silver platter and the girls of the society set were 
 frankly envious of Imogene. 
 
 There was little secret to the fact that Imogene 
 had engaged herself to Elias for better or worse, 
 richer or poorer. Whereupon hero-worshipping 
 Society adopted him. He joined the exclusive 
 First African M. E. Church and became a member 
 of The Sons & Daughters of I Will Arise. He 
 was wined copiously and dined frequently. It 
 was a unique experience and he was not one to shun 
 the spotlight at this late date of his hitherto back- 
 stage life. 
 
 The business of The Pinetop Roller Pressing Club 
 picked up overnight, and Elias, who handled the 
 administrative end, was kept busy. His evenings 
 were spent in the clinging arms of the delectable 
 Imogene, who, by day, was nurse for three very 
 young scions of a leading white folks family. They 
 planned rosily for the future : Imogene was to in- 
 terest the quality folks in The Pinetop Roller 
 Pressing Club, the business was to expand, move 
 into larger quarters, have a red and white sign 
 painted, install a De Haven steam presser and. . . . 
 
 It was after dinner at the Carter homestead on 
 the night of the Fourth day after the rescue that 
 something came up casually to disturb Elias Rush's
 
 104 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 blissful serenity. Clarence was puffing away at 
 a rank pipe, Elias dry-smoking a two-fer cheroot 
 and Imogene nestling at his side. Elias had com- 
 pleted a vivid recital of a fictitious experience in 
 the course of which he had valiantly saved the life 
 of a certain Colonel Ransome of Dothan. Imogene 
 pressed the hand of her hero and Clarence nodded 
 his bullet head approvingly. 
 
 " That's fine, 'Lias ; that's fine. An' how 'bout 
 them young bucks down to Dothan: did you ever 
 have any trouble with them? " 
 
 " Meanin' de men, Cla'nce? " 
 
 " Meanin' that." 
 
 Elias laughed lightly. " Sho' nuff , now, Cla'nce : 
 vou ain't s'posin' I'd go 'round fightin' wid no men, 
 is you? " 
 
 " You is little " 
 
 "Li'l an' loud; da's me, Cla'nce. Li'l an' loud! 
 They ain't none of them niggers down to Dothan 
 ast fo' none of my game sencst de day me an' Scipio 
 Barrow mixed it up." 
 
 " How come 'bout that? " 
 
 " Me an' Scipio was a-shootin' high dice an' they 
 was plenty niggers 'round watchin'. Come Scipio 
 shoot a 'leven an' I tickle a twelve. Den he mouth 
 somthin' 'bout I ain't roll 'em honest. After 
 dat . . ." he paused dramatically. 
 
 "Yeh, Honey; yeh? What happen then?" 
 breathed Imogene. 
 
 "Well, I'se heah, ain't I? An' after Scipio git 
 out de horspital he ain't bother wid me much." 
 
 " Was he bigger'n you? " 
 
 " Bigger? Cla'nce, jes' as sho' as hell's a mouse- 
 trap dat nigger was so big I had to jump plumb
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 105 
 
 off en de groun' to hit him. I jes' ain't fool wid 
 nobody ain't twice my size. I skeered I might kill 
 'em by hittin' too hard. I'se small, Cla'nce, but 
 I'se wiry I'se pow'ful wiry." 
 
 " I'm plumb glad to hear you is a fighter, 'Lias, 
 'cause me an' Imigene was discussin' 'bout tomor- 
 row bein' payday out to the Madoc mines." 
 
 " How come I interest' in dat ? " 
 
 "They's a man out there by the name Cunjer 
 Bill Johnson, an' me an' Imigene was kinder scared 
 that when Cunjer Bill foun' out 'bout you an' Imi- 
 gene lovin' each other. . . ." 
 
 Elias Rush experienced a sudden sickening 
 sinking sensation in the region of the midriff. 
 " Whut disyer Cunjer Bill pusson got to do wid 
 Imigene? " 
 
 "Nothin'!" she negatived tartly: "Big ol' 
 brute!" 
 
 " Big man? " 
 
 " More'n six feet," confided Clarence cheerfully, 
 " an' a pow'ful bad man. He's plumb jealous of 
 Imigene." 
 
 "You been 'gage' to him, Imigene?" questioned 
 her fiancee pointedly. 
 
 " Me? Him? I ain't never have nothin' tall to 
 do with no such trash." 
 
 " Den how come him to git sore wid me? " 
 
 " 'Cause since he's been lovin' Imigene they ain't 
 no other man hereabouts dared fool with her. 
 They's all scared of Cunjer Bill." 
 
 " He's dat bad? " 
 
 " Worser." Clarence gazed at his prospective 
 brother-in-law sharply. " You ain't scared of him, 
 is you, 'Lias? "
 
 106 POLISHED K 
 
 Elias Rush laughed a white, sickly laugh. 
 " Skeered? Me? I ain't skeered of but one t'ing, 
 Cla'nce, an' dat is ef dat nigger monkeys wid me 
 I'll be 'rested fo' manslaughter. Da's all what 7 
 is skeered of." 
 
 " He's a pow'ful big man, 'Lias." 
 
 " De bigger dey is de better de meat. An' 'sides 
 mebbe he won't come to town." 
 
 " He always comes to town paydays," was the 
 cheerful response. " Jus' to see if any other man 
 been fool 'nough to been co'tin' Imigene." 
 
 Night brought little sleep to Elias Rush. For 
 the first time in his delirious four days he regretted 
 that he had allowed his tongue to keep step with 
 his imagination. By dint of much high class lying 
 he had builded for himself a reputation of cham- 
 pion all-'round hero and untamed bad man. Clar- 
 ence and Imogene and Lawyer Evans Chew and 
 Dr. Vivian Simmons and Florian Slappey and 
 Rev'end Plato Tubb and all of the other men of 
 parts in the community knew perfectly well that 
 the elimination of the formidable Cunjer Bill John- 
 son would be a mere incident in the day's work of 
 Eljas Rush. 
 
 The trouble was that Cunjer Bill Johnson didn't 
 know it! 
 
 Chances were Cunjer Bill would come to town, 
 seek Imogene, and learn from her disdainful and 
 vitriolic lips the tale of the newly arisen Man of 
 the Hour. Whereupon Cunjer Bill Johnson, ignor- 
 ant of his danger, would camp on the trail of the 
 aforesaid hero, seeking to quaff of his heart's blood. 
 Elias was sickeningly fearful of the prospect. 
 
 He spent a weary, floor-walking night. The fol-
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 107 
 
 lowing morning Pinetop Roller, his pal and part- 
 ner, commented upon his haggardness. Then Pine- 
 top went out to collect suits in need of pressing 
 and Elias was left alone in the little office. He 
 wondered at what time they paid off out at Madoc 
 and how long it would take Cunjer Bill to reach 
 town, and 
 
 " Mornin', Mister Rush." 
 
 At the cool suavity of the voice Elias jumped as 
 though he had been shot. Then, as he recognized 
 his visitor, he smiled a weak smile. " Mawnin', 
 Mistuh Chew." 
 
 " How's the pressing business this morning? " 
 
 " Tol'able. How's de law business? " 
 
 " De trop. Very de trop, I might say. I wanted 
 you to send around to Mrs. Chew for a suit of 
 mine. Have it pressed before night, will you, Mis- 
 tuh Rush?" 
 
 "Sho' will. I I say, Mistuh Chew; what 
 you know 'bout disyer Cunjer Bill Johnson nig- 
 ger? " 
 
 Lawyer Chew chk-chk'd and shook his head hope- 
 lessly. " Bad egg, Mister Rush ; a real bad egg." 
 
 " I mean 'bout 'bout him an' Iinigene?" 
 
 " He's pow'ful jealous of Imigene, Mistuh Rush. 
 I hope you and Mister Johnson ain't calc'lating on 
 fightin' over her? " 
 
 " We ain't,'' answered Elias miserably. " Mebbe 
 so he is, but we ain't sho' nuff ." 
 
 " He's a bad customer, Mistuh Rush ; a very bad 
 customer." 
 
 Elias Rush produced a ten-cent cigar and stuck 
 it in the face of Lawyer Evans Chew : " Set dow r n 
 an' tell me somthin' 'bout disyer Cunjer Bill John-
 
 108 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 son, Mistuh Chew set down an' tell me somthin' 
 'bout him. F'rinstance: do he skeer easy? " 
 Lawyer Evans Chew sat down. 
 
 Insofar as Cunjer Bill Johnson was concerned, 
 things happened according to schedule. 
 
 He checked out at the tipple-house at noon, made 
 his way to the marble showers which the Madoc 
 Mining Company provides for its negro employe's, 
 and his Herculean physique glistened under the 
 chilly spray. 
 
 He was a massive man: broad and brawny, a 
 clear generation behind the girl of his heart's 
 choice in the matter of evolution. He smiled cheer- 
 ily with his fellow-workers, but once he stepped on 
 a bit of wire and the expression which momentarily 
 disfigured his face wasn't at all pleasant. Fortu- 
 nately for his own peace of mind, Elias Rush was 
 not there to see. 
 
 Cunjer Bill left the shower-room, dried off with 
 a fresh Turkish towel also furnished gratis by 
 the company dressed in the Sunday -go-to-meet- 
 in's which had been hanging in his locker for a 
 fortnight, presented his tag at the pay window, and 
 was handed fifty-eight dollars for two weeks' work. 
 Cunjer Bill was an excellent ore mucker. 
 
 At three o'clock he boarded the Accommodation 
 for the city and at five he was at Sally Crouch's 
 Cozy Home Hotel for Coloured and comfortably 
 installed in one of her best rooms. An hour later 
 he had purchased an almost-silver comb-brush-and- 
 mirror set in a plush case, secured a shoe shine and 
 was on his way to the domicile of his lady love. 
 
 Beverend Plato Tubb stopped him en route and
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 109 
 
 gossiped fussily about things in general, and when 
 Cunjer Bill would have unceremoniously pulled 
 away, the Rev'end Plato compelled his interest by 
 mention of Imogene. Then he tactfully and glee- 
 fully proceeded to tell Cunjer Bill of Imogene's 
 near-drowning and of her subsequent engagement 
 to one, Elias Rush. Cunjer Bill jerked away. 
 
 " Where you going? " inquired the Rev'end 
 Tubb. 
 
 " Gwine see Imigene an' heah dis fumadiddles 
 f'um her own lips." 
 
 Which is exactly what he did. He heard it not 
 once or twice, but several times ; and Elias did not 
 lose in the telling. She elaborated on his heroism 
 and painted him a fire-eater and a man-killer, 
 thereby sowing the seeds of doubt in the breast of 
 Cunjer Bill. She supplied details of the rescue 
 which had been manufactured by much repetition 
 since the previous Sunday afternoon. 
 
 Reverend Plato Tubb happened by ; his sensation- 
 loving soul impelling him to the scene of impending 
 drama. Later, Clarence came in. With him were 
 Lawyer Chew and a friend. 
 
 And it was into the midst of this gathering that 
 the unsuspecting and terrified Elias Rush, seeking 
 sanctuary from the hobgoblin Cunjer Bill, stepped. 
 
 " Mister Rush," said Imogene sweetly, " I want 
 you to meet my frien', Mister Johnson. Mister 
 Johnson, meet my fiansay." 
 
 Elias's face was pathetic. He stood in his tracks, 
 back against the door, eyes rolling wildly and show- 
 ing white. Cunjer Bill loomed like a mountain 
 with a thundercloud crest. And his voice rumblod : 
 " So dis de man whut done me dirt, huh? "
 
 110 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Mister Johnson," broke in Iniogene sharply, 
 " remember where you is at ! " 
 
 " I 'members whar dis li'l shrimp is at," came 
 the menacing roar. Then he turned his attention 
 to the terrified Rush. " You know what I is got a 
 good min' to do?" 
 
 No answer from the petrified Elias, whose wide- 
 open eyes were now fastened blankly on the other's 
 face. He hoped vaguely that Cunjer Bill was not 
 a fast runner. 
 
 " Y'ain' answer me, huh? Well, whut I is got 
 a good min' to do to you is to sqush you like dat 
 see?" and he pressed thumb and forefinger to- 
 gether. " I got a good min'. . . ." 
 
 Lawyer Chew bustled forward officiously. 
 " Now, now, Brother Johnson this ain't neither 
 the time nor the place. . ." 
 
 "Y'all lay off of dis, Lawyer Chew. It am' 
 healthy fo' no man to combat wiv me w'en I'se mad 
 an' I'se plumb mad now. Ef 'twas a he-man 
 cut me out. . . . But a shrimp like dis ! Huh ! " 
 
 "I woul'n't go foolin' with him, Cunjer Bill," 
 warned Clarence. " He's a powerful bad nigger." 
 
 Cunjer Bill looked at Elias and then at Clar- 
 ence. There was truth reflected in Clarence's face, 
 his words were saturated with the nuance of con- 
 viction. Cunjer Bill wondered whether he might 
 not be mistaken. Maybe Elias was a real killer: 
 and he knew that all the brawn in creation is not 
 proof against a bullet. Still Elias didn't look 
 bad, and doubtful as he had become Cunjer 
 Bill was not ready to capitulate. 
 
 "Him?" he muttered doubtfully. "Dat li'l 
 speck o' nothin' bad? I got half a min'. . . ."
 
 .* " 
 
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 2 = 
 
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 V -f.
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 111 
 
 Cold, clammy terror gripped Elias Rush. For 
 the first time in his life he knew physical fear. 
 And also, for the first time in his sequestered life, 
 he experienced the courage of a cornered rat. He 
 opened parched lips closed them again then 
 croaked a warning : 
 
 " Keep yo' hands off en me ! " 
 
 " I reckon." Cunjer Bill took a tentative step 
 forward : " I'll jes' sqush you ! " 
 
 " Careful, Brother Johnson," warned the Rev'- 
 end Plato, " Brother Rush's gittin' mad." 
 
 Cunjer Bill paused. He sensed that the fear of 
 the spectators was fear for, and not o/, him. He 
 advanced another step in the direction of his quiv- 
 ering rival. 
 
 Elias's voice rose high with hysteria : " Folks, 
 yo'-all better keep him off en me ! I I gwine 
 kill him ! " 
 
 He was startled by his own words. The others 
 were not. Even Cunjer Bill was not startled. He 
 began to fear that he had undertaken a job which 
 common-sense demanded that he abandon. He got 
 the idea that Elias was fighting to restrain himself. 
 Rush, nerves raw, rattled on hysterically 
 
 " I ain' got nothin' ag'in you, Cunjer Bill. But 
 sho's you come nigh me I'll kill you. . . . Keep 'ira 
 offen me, folks. I ain't askin' f o' no rucus ! Keep 
 'im offen me ! " 
 
 Evans Chew took the arm of Cunjer Bill. And 
 this time his peace proposals met with no opposi- 
 tion. " Better come away, Bill. He's awful bad, 
 that Rush feller. You is li'ble to get him angry 
 an' he's a killer, he is. Got a bad record down to 
 Dothan. Packs a gun an' a knife, both.''
 
 112 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Ef I had a gun," temporized the rapidly sub- 
 siding Cunjer Bill. 
 
 " But you ain't. Better come with me befo' 
 there's bloodshed." 
 
 Thoroughly cowed, grumbling defiance to camou 
 flage the fear which had been born in his heart, 
 Cunjer Bill Johnson gladly allowed Evans Chew 
 to convoy him into the alley. Once there the law- 
 yer breathed a sigh of infinite relief. 
 
 " Brother Johnson," he proclaimed convincingly, 
 " you sure done had one terrible narrow escape." 
 
 " Dat dat li'l shrimp don't look lak no killer." 
 
 "You mean to tell me, Brother Johnson, that 
 nojody warned you he was bad medicine? " 
 
 " Yeh, dey warn me. But he ain' look bad." 
 
 " Ain't you see it in his eye? He wasn't more'n 
 ten seconds from killin' you. An' I ain't so sure 
 he ain't countin' on it yet. Take my adwice an' 
 git out of town befo' he gets a good chancst at you 
 in the open." 
 
 " Whut c'an he do to me, huh? " 
 
 " He ain't never missed a man yet. He's plumb 
 bad. They re'lly ain't but two things you can do." 
 
 "An' dem is?" 
 
 " Get out of town or put him under a peace 
 bond." 
 
 " Whut dat peace bon' business? " 
 
 "Make a afterdavit that he threatened to kill 
 you an' then swear out a warrant. They'll 'rest 
 him an' put him under bond to keep the peace 
 ipso facto." 
 
 " How dat ipso facto t'ing 'feet me? " 
 
 " When he's under a peace bond," explained the
 
 THE AMATEUR HERO 113 
 
 attorney and counsellor, " the law don't allow him 
 to kill nobody!" 
 
 " Dat so? How much it cost me to git dat peace 
 bond ag'in him? " 
 
 " My fee in the matter will be twenty-five dol- 
 lars." 
 
 "An' you t'ink ef I don't git it he'll plug me?" 
 
 " I do. He's an awful bad nigger." 
 
 " A'right," and Cunjer Bill drew a deep breath. 
 " I reckon it's cheap at dat, ain't it? " 
 
 " It is," agreed Lawyer Evans Chew. " It's pow'- 
 ful lucky you didn't temp' him no further, 'cause 
 if you had you'd of been around a heap of flowers 
 an' soft music an' you woul'n't of knowed nothin' 
 about it." 
 
 The following morning Elias Rush found an 
 athletic-appearing white man waiting for him at 
 the door of The Pinetop Roller Pressing Club. 
 
 "Are you Elias Rush?" 
 
 " Yassuh." 
 
 Come with me." 
 
 Whar to? " 
 
 " I have a warrant for your arrest on peace bond 
 proceedings." 
 
 "Fo'me?" 
 
 " Yes, for you. Come along." 
 
 " Jes' a minnit, Cap'n. Who swear out dat war- 
 rant?" 
 
 "William Johnson, also known as Cunjer Bill 
 Johnson." 
 
 Elias Rush went. At the magistrate's office he 
 found Cunjer Bill Johnson under the wing of
 
 114 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Lawyer Evans Chew. Under Chew's questioning 
 Cunjer Bill made out an excellent bill of causes 
 why Elias Rush should be placed under a cash 
 bond of two hundred dollars to keep the peace. 
 And finally the magistrate turned to Rush. 
 
 "Elias Rush?" 
 
 " Yassuh, Jedge ; da's me." 
 
 " What have you to say for yourself? " 
 
 "Nothin', Jedge; nothin' tall." 
 
 " Did you threaten this man? " 
 
 "Reckon I did, Jedge." Out of the corner of 
 his eye Rush glimpsed the adored Imogene in a 
 corner of the tiny courtroom. " Reckon I kinder 
 mentioned I might hu't 'im ef he gallivanted 'round 
 wid me." 
 
 " You threatened him with bodily injury? " 
 
 " Reckon da's de onlies' kin' ob injury he'd on- 
 derstan', ain't it? " 
 
 " Can you state any good and sufficient reasons 
 why you should not be placed under bond to main- 
 tain the peace and dignity of the State, and espe- 
 cially against the person of William Johnson, also 
 known as Cunjer Bill Johnson? " 
 
 " Guess dey ain' no reason tall, Jedge ; 'cause if 
 I ain't put under dat bon' I'se li'ble to sqiish dat 
 big lummix an' I ain't anxious to do no time fo' 
 no sech wuthless, no-'count " 
 
 "That'll do, Rush." The magistrate scribbled 
 swiftly on a legal form. " When can you raise a 
 cash bond of two hundred dollars? " 
 
 With easy nonchalance Elias Rush produced 
 from his battered wallet ten twenty-dollar bills. 
 " Ef I don't beat dat feller up, Jedge, will I git dis 
 money back ag'in? "
 
 THE stfATEUR HERO 115 
 
 The magistrate smiled. " At the end of six 
 months if you keep the peace." 
 
 With Imogene on his arm Imogene atremble 
 with pride and love Elias Rush swaggered from 
 the courtroom. He waited on the corner and inter- 
 cepted Cunjer Bill. 
 
 "Mistuh Cunjer Bill," orated the little negro: 
 " You is wiser'n you look. Whut you is jes' done 
 saves yo' life. Ef you hadn't of stopped me by 
 law from killin' you, you would of been a daid 
 nigger befo' night. Now git outen my path : I'se 
 walkin' wid my lady frien' an' I don't wanna be 
 bothered wid no trash ! " 
 
 The following morning Lawyer Evans Chew 
 again dropped into The Pinetop Roller Pressing 
 Club. Elias Rush was behind the counter whis- 
 tling happily. 
 
 " Mornin', Brother Rush." 
 
 " Mawnin', Lawyer Chew." 
 
 " It certainly worked, didn't it? " 
 
 " It done dat, sho' nuff." 
 
 "Cunjer Bill's done left town: scared stiff. 
 Ain't any chance of his bothering you again." 
 
 Rush chuckled. " An' I'se boun' by law not 
 to hu't him. Dat was a swell scheme, Brother 
 Chew." 
 
 " I got some pretty good ideas, Brother Rush. 
 'Course, I had to talk mighty convincin' to make 
 him believe you meant to kill him. An' now there's 
 a little matter . . ." He hesitated delicately. 
 
 Elias Rush reached into a drawer from which 
 he extracted twenty-five dollars. This he handed 
 to Lawyer Evans Chew : " Da's yo' fee fo' makin'
 
 116 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Cunjer Bill git out dat peace bon' ag'inst me, an'," 
 he grinned broadly, " I reckon you c'n put some ob 
 dat into a weddin' present. Me an' Imigene is 
 gwine git married nex' Sunday ! "
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 
 
 he comes! 
 
 The crowd pressed close against the gates 
 of the coloured exit of the Terminal Sta- 
 tion, straining eyes into the gloom of the passage- 
 way. 
 
 " Tha's him : tha's Spider! " 
 
 " Yeh tha's him ; sho' nuff ! " 
 
 "Hey! Yo' Spider!" 
 
 The dapper little negro grinned and waved his 
 be-je welled hands to the reception committee. He 
 tried to appear unconscious of the fact that his 
 sartorial appearance was creating a furore and 
 failed miserably. He was glad now that he had 
 bedecked himself in his very newest suit : a pearl 
 grey serge of ultra English cut. His vest was a 
 rich cream exquisitely flowered in crimson. His 
 tie was scarlet, his sox vermilion. The long- 
 visored cap, insignia of his profession, perched 
 jauntily on the side of his head. His long-toed 
 tan shoes glowed in the light of the electric bulbs. 
 
 He mounted the steps two at a time, every move 
 a symphony. Behind him clambered two red- 
 capped station porters, each lugging a heavy suit- 
 case. The exit gates rolled back and Spider Haw- 
 kins, jockey, found himself smothered in the ample 
 maternal bosom. 
 
 " Spider honey ! Is yo' come home to yo' ol' 
 Mammy? Is yo' r'illy, truly heah, Spider? " 
 
 119
 
 120 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 The little negro laughed gaily and implanted a 
 fervid smack on his mother's lips. He held her at 
 arm's length with hands in which there was a 
 surprising strength and allowed his mouth to ex- 
 pand into a happy, prideful grin. 
 
 " Golly! Mom, yo' shuah is growed. An' dressed 
 up ! " He faced the welcoming crowd : " On the 
 level, folks, ain't she the bestest lookin' 'ooman 
 heah? Ain't she, now? " 
 
 "Aw, Spider, yo' quit. Yo' allers w r as teasin' 
 with yo' ol' Mammy. Law', boy, yo' is the dress- 
 inest man ! " 
 
 Spider shrugged. " Jes' some ol' clothes I hap- 
 pen' to dig up ontray noo. It ain't pay wearin' no 
 r'il good clothes on the train." He dug into the 
 pocket of the peacock vest and extracted two quar- 
 ters which he placed in the eagerly outstretched 
 hands of his attending porters. He did it grandly, 
 with the air of one to the manner born. " Yo' boys 
 run buy yo'selfs some ice cream sodas." Then, to 
 the crowd : " Thisyer shuah gives me the hoine- 
 cominest feelin'. . . ." 
 
 They pressed closer about him, these representa- 
 tives of the city's very selectest coloured social 
 circle. Society was doing him proud. There was 
 the Rev'end Plato Tubb of the First African M. E. 
 Church and Lawyer Evans Chew and Dr. Vivian 
 Simmons and the immaculate Florian Slappey, his 
 own tailored pre-eminence unselfishly displayed 
 against the greater perfections of his friend. And 
 there was Simeon Broughton, and Pearl, his ra- 
 diant wife; and Tempus Attucks and Charity Chism 
 and teetering forlornly on the outskirts of the 
 crowd, glum of expression and diffident of manner
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 121 
 
 Pliny Driver, boyhood chum of the returning 
 Spider. 
 
 Spider spied him and hurled his ninety-three 
 pounds through the crowd. He seized the gloomy 
 Pliny by the shoulders and shook him delightedly. 
 " Yo' Pliny! I'm dawg'd ef this don't seem like 
 ol' times shuah miff . Sa-a-ay ! ain't yo' got nothin' 
 tall to reemark? " 
 
 " Glad to see yo'," mumbled Pliny dolefully. 
 " Huh ! Yo' look glad, yo' does not. Looks 
 like yo' jes' been put out the Lodge 'cause they's 
 skeered yo' benumficiary gwine c'lect yo' insur- 
 ance." 
 
 " They ain't nothin' the matter with me, Spider." 
 " Then yo' face needs a operation fo' the removal 
 of su'plus expression. That mug of you'rn'd make 
 a stake hawss fall down in the homestretch." 
 
 " Hmph ! Spider yo' don' know nothin'! 
 That's all yo' don' know nothin' tall." 
 
 Spider poked his friend playfully in the ribs. 
 "Mebbe not, son; but I'se shuah gwine fin' out." 
 
 Mother Hawkins had stifled the loud protests of 
 a thrifty soul and chartered a seven-passenger car 
 for the child of , her bosom. She and Spider and 
 Pliny occupied the big tonneau seat : Lawyer Chew 
 and the Rev'end Tubb balanced precariously on the 
 folding chairs designed for the daring sixth and 
 seventh passengers. Charity Chism, her eyes every- 
 where save on the mournful face of the dolorous 
 Pliny, climbed in beside Clarence Carter, the 
 chauffeur whose generous cutrates had made the 
 chartering possible. 
 
 As the car rolled down the smooth paving of the 
 avenue toward the glaring lights and early evening
 
 122 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 bustle of the big, prosperous southern city, Spider 
 Hawkins leaned luxuriously back against the cush- 
 ions and gave himself over to a thorough enjoy- 
 ment of the moment. 
 
 For the first time in two years, Spider was at 
 home. He envisioned himself as he had been: a 
 spirited, mischievous kid a youngster whose sta- 
 ture he had never outgrown. Every street-corner, 
 every building, was chock-full of joyful memory. 
 The soft, balmy breeze floated in through the tilted 
 windshield and fanned his happy face. 
 
 Spider was glad to be home : glad to be away 
 even for so short a time as a month from the 
 odour of the stables, the reek of the tack rooms, 
 the sight of quivering thoroughbreds, the clang of 
 the bell in the judges' stand, the raucous yodle of 
 the exquisitely profane starter. Latonia, Havre de 
 Grace, Sheepshead, Saratoga they were wine in 
 the head of Spider Hawkins, jockey. But just now 
 he was suffering from a surfeit and wanted a rest. 
 And home he had come home with a roll of 
 money which would have caused serious inconven- 
 ience to an elephant's esophagus, a wardrobe des- 
 tined to be vainly imitated by the young bloods for 
 two years, a perennial good nature and a general 
 warmness of the heart toward the community 
 which so obviously adored him. 
 
 The four-room manse of his childhood had been 
 fittingly decorated for the occasion. A picture 
 of himself in riding silks had been garnished with 
 goldenrod. Prohibition punch filled a large, near- 
 cut-glass bowl; tasty crackers were piled high. 
 There were huge dishes of persimmons and chin- 
 quapins. Parlour, dining-room, veranda and tiny
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 123 
 
 front yard were crowded with the quality of the 
 city's coloured folks, vieing with one another in 
 homage to Jockey Spider Hawkins. 
 
 The air was permeated with infectious hilarity. 
 Spider, fairly bubbling over with happiness, alter- 
 nately teased his portly, good-natured mother and 
 regaled the crowd with new and funny stories, in- 
 imitably told. Within ten minutes he had them 
 all in paroxysms of laughter. 
 
 All save Pliny Driver. Pliny gloomed alone in 
 a corner of the parlour, his eyes focussed tirelessly 
 on the radiant Charity Chism and the ingratiating, 
 oily-smiling Tempus Attucks who hovered about 
 her now serving a clinking punch, now a tooth- 
 some cracker: whispering softly into her dainty 
 ear. . . . Murder was in Pliny's heart. 
 
 But if Pliny dripped sadness, Spider more than 
 evened things up. The little jockey fairly sizzled 
 with good nature. He effervesced all over the 
 room, the roving centre of an admiring crowd. 
 And finally he was cornered by a group of men un- 
 der the leadership of Lawyer Evans Chew and the 
 talk turned to shop Spider's shop. 
 
 " Guess yo' is makin' a heap of money, eh, Spi- 
 der? " 
 
 Guess I is." 
 
 " Not all of it ridin', either." 
 
 "Meanin' which?" snapped Spider quickly, as 
 he singled out his interrogator as Tempus Attucks. 
 The big, blatantly over-dressed Tempus hastened 
 to take cover. 
 
 " Nothin'." 
 
 " Yeh yo' sho' nuff meant sumpin', Mistuh At- 
 tucks."
 
 124 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Er a-playin' the hawses : that's what I 
 meant." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " You does make a li'l sumpin' on the side that- 
 away, ain't it so? " 
 
 " I reckon," murmured Lawyer Chew enviously, 
 "that y'all jockeys git a heap of inside info'ma- 
 tion." 
 
 " Reckon we do, ol' spoht. 'Tain't so onnat'ral 
 fo' us to be on the inside." 
 
 " An' when yo' gets a tip thataway," persisted 
 Attucks, " yo' most gin'rally plays it? " 
 
 " Most gin'rally. Ef it looks good." 
 
 "Ain't got nothin' up yo' sleeve, have yo', Spi- 
 der? " questioned Chew. 
 
 " Pair of good ridin' arms." 
 
 " Meanin' tips like. You just come down from 
 Sarytoga " 
 
 " I'se bettin' he knows more'n a thing or two," 
 insinuated Tempus. 
 
 " Yo' win, Mistuh Attucks." Spider turned his 
 attention again to Evans Chew : " Yeh ! I sort 
 of reckon I know of a r'il good thing gwine be 
 pulled no later'n Sat'dy." 
 
 " G'wan, Spider. . . ." The crowd ganged 
 closer. " Reckon y'd oughter tell us, Spider. We 
 is all frien's of yourn. . . ." 
 
 Spider laughed. " Yeh an' ef I was to spill 
 y'all'd be jes' fools enough to go bettin'. Then 
 come th' ol' dawg to trail the fiel' an' I'd git the 
 blame." 
 
 " Nossuh, Spider; that ain't so a tall. Not a tall 
 it ain't." 
 
 "Well. . . ." Spider drew a deep breath:
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS . 125 
 
 " Bet y'all'd even be fools enough to b'lieve me ef 
 I was to say a r'il long shot was gwine win the fo'th 
 race up to Saratoga Sat'dy." 
 
 " Reckon we would, Spider." 
 
 " Yassuh, we would that. Is yo' sayin' it, Spi- 
 der? " 
 
 " Ise warnin' yo' folks they ain't no long shot 
 that's a safe bet." 
 
 " We'll take the chance, Spider, ef y'all jes' say 
 yo' think they's a chancst. Is it a chancst? " 
 
 " Ise sayin' they is. Co'se, I ain't 'sinuatin' the 
 race is crooked. Don' hahdly reckon that kin' 
 of stuff goes no mo' on fust class tracks lak whut 
 I ride on. But they ain't no tellin' but what the 
 owners of a suttin hawss by the name Laddie Buck 
 is been primin' 'im fo' a killin'. He been comin' 
 in ev'y race jes' in time to clutter up the barrier 
 fo' the next one. Slower'n Jinuwary m'lasses. 
 Five yeah oP an' still a maiden. Fo'th race Sat'day 
 is fo' three-yeah-ol's an' upperds, an' they's some 
 class showin'. Laddie Buck'll go to the post any- 
 whar furn thutty- to fifty-to-one." 
 
 Lawyer Chew leaned forward earnestly. " That 
 from headquarters, Spider? " 
 
 " Might' nigh." 
 
 " Yo' reckon it's a good bet? " 
 
 " It's a good bet," quoth the trackwise Spider, 
 " even ef yo' lose." 
 
 Mother Hawkins appeared in the offing and 
 swooped down upon the executive session, dis^ 
 persing it by mass tactics. A string-and-reed or- 
 chestra arrived and dancing started. At one 
 o'clock in the morning the tired, happy crowd dis- 
 integrated. But when the disconsolate Pliny
 
 126 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Driver would have oozed out of the front door, 
 Spider held him. 
 
 " Hoi' on a minnit, Pliny. I wanna make talk 
 with yo'." 
 
 " Yo' ain't wanna talk with me, Spider. I ain't 
 no fittin' cornp'ny these days." 
 
 " Reckon I is took a chancst befo', Pliny. Le's 
 walk." 
 
 Arm in arm the chums stepped out into the 
 clear, bracing September night, Pliny, himself 
 by no means a large man, looming like an ebony 
 giant beside the diminutive Spider. 
 
 For half an hour they walked silently southward. 
 They climbed and reached the crest of the moun- 
 tain on which the city's fashionable residential 
 colony is built : reached it and seated themselves on 
 a boulder they had known of old and from which 
 they could gaze down upon the fire and smoke of 
 the factories which justified Birmingham's exist- 
 ence. Spider heaved a deep sigh. 
 
 " Golly ! It's good to be home." 
 
 "Is it, now?" 
 
 " Yeh. . . . Say, Pliny, I ain't saw yo' so happy 
 sencst yo' ol' man tanned yo' britches fo' stealin' 
 doughnuts fuin Sally Crouch." 
 
 " Reason is 'cause I ain't so happy, Spider." 
 
 "How come?" 
 
 " Nev' mind. On'y I wisht I was li'l like what 
 yo' is." 
 
 "Hmph. . . ." 
 
 " I'd leave heah an' be a jockey. Anythin' to git 
 away fum thisyer town." 
 
 " What's wrong with th' town? " 
 
 " Nothin'. 'Tis jes' folks."
 
 TEMPOS FUGITS 127 
 
 " Coloured folks? " 
 
 "Niggers!" 
 
 "Name which?" 
 
 " Name Tempus Attacks, tha's which." 
 
 " That long, tall, shiny-colla'd, greasy-smilin' ol* 
 sellin'-plater what was hangin' 'round Charity 
 Chism all evenin'? " 
 
 " Yo' said it." 
 
 " G'wan, Pliny. He ain't went an' cut yo' out 
 with Charity, is he? " 
 
 " Not no surer than I'se a nigger he ain't." 
 
 " Chk! How come that? " 
 
 " He's one of these heah slipp'y talkers. Says 
 to a gal : ' Nice day t'day ! ' an' makes it soun' 
 like po'try an' a perposal of marriage all in one. 
 He's jes' a nat'ral-bohn lover. Swell chancst I got 
 ag'in him : me wukin' on a ice-wagon an' him a 
 broker." 
 
 "Broker? Him?" 
 
 " Tha's what he calls hisse'f. Brokes his cli'nts : 
 tha's all what kin' of a broker he is." 
 
 " How he make his livin'? " 
 
 " Gamblin'." 
 
 " Yo' wrong sommares," declared the jockey seri- 
 ously. " Onless Charity Chism is change a whole 
 heap she woul'n't stan' fo' no fo'-flushin' crap 
 shooter." 
 
 " He ain't no bone-tickler," came the gloomy re- 
 sponse. " Him's agent fo' Jackson Ramsay's gam- 
 blin' house." 
 
 "The lott'ry man?" 
 
 " Him's which. On'y they's mo' to it than jes' 
 bein' a agent. The p'lice ain't so lib'ral like what 
 they use' to be. They kinder down on Cap'n Ram-
 
 128 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 say. He's op'ratin' awful close to the chist these 
 days. Y'see, they is got a new nimisipal 'ministra- 
 tion." 
 
 " An' they's down on him? " 
 
 " On account they is got some crusaders 'mongst 
 the coloured folks. Rev'end Arlandas Sdpsey 
 what pastorizes the Primitive Baptis' Chu'ch 
 stahted the refawm movement." 
 
 " To refawm all the coloured folks or jes' Tern- 
 pus? " 
 
 " Mostly Tempus." 
 
 " 'Bout him, then : is he hones'? " 
 
 " Yeh ! He's always hones' sometimes. Fur 
 as I c'n see, Spider, that they Tempus Attucks is 
 so crooked ef he swallied a nail he'd spit up a 
 corkscrew. 'Co'se it ain't always good business fo' 
 Tempus to be crooked an' them times he's straight." 
 
 " Jackson Ramsay useter be on the level." 
 
 " He is yit. An' he woul'n't stan' for' no fuma- 
 diddles fum Tempus ef he knowed it. But he don't 
 an' they ain't no way of provin' up on him." 
 
 " How come the coloured folks cain't deal d'rec' 
 with Cap'n Ramsay? " 
 
 " Skeered. Sencst the p'lice got such a con- 
 science, Spider, they an' him been pow'ful skeered. 
 Ain't hahdly nobody riskin' goin' to the Pool an' 
 Ginuwine drawin's 'count ef the place git raided 
 it's a long term in the Big Rock. So in ev'y col- 
 oured section Cap'n Ramsay is got a agent an' all 
 the bettin' is done th'oo him." 
 
 " Cap'n Ramsay runs a hawss-racin' pool, too? " 
 
 " Shuah's yo' bohn, he do. Reg'lar two drawin's 
 a day fo' the lott'ry an' his hawss-pool an' some- 
 times w'en he's pretty shuah they ain't gwine be
 
 TEMP.US FUGITS 129 
 
 no 'lice intumfe'ence, he totes out his crap table. 
 But times ain't lak what they was, Spider. Seems 
 like white folks ain't want niggers gamblin' a tall. 
 'Mostly all the bettin' what is goes th'oo Tempus: 
 tha's how come him to call hisself a broker. Got 
 a office an' all that. 'Tain't nothin' but camel- 
 flage." 
 
 " An' thisyer Tempus feller done took yo' gal 
 away? " 
 
 " Most onti'ly. Me'n my stiddy job with the ice- 
 wagon ain't look so- good longside a broker with 
 offices in the Penny Prudential Bank b'ildin'." 
 
 Spider Hawkins gave himself over to several 
 minutes of concentrated thought. He was worried 
 by his friend's abject misery. " One trouble with 
 yo', Pliny, is the face what yo' wears when Tempus 
 an' Charity is in sight." 
 
 " It's the on'y face what I got, Spider." 
 
 " Yeh . . . but that ain't no call to make yo'se'f 
 look like- a long shot with a broken laig." 
 
 Cain't he'p it." 
 
 " C'n, too." 
 
 " Hmph ! Guess yo' don' know nothin' 'bout 
 love, Spider 'bout havin' yo' gal loviii' another 
 feller. Come thataway it's like the stummick-ache 
 yo' jes' nat'rally cain't he'p it fum showin'." 
 
 " An' Charity was she lovin' yo' pretty strong 
 an' stiddy befo' thisyer Tempus pusson stold her? " 
 
 " Tol'able strong." 
 
 " An' ef he was to git removed away fum thisyer 
 city sort of sudden like ? " 
 
 Pliny perked up with the ray of hope inspired 
 by his friend's words. " Ef 'twas to rain gol' dol- 
 la's, Spider. . . ."
 
 130 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Ef he was to be r'moved away? " repeated Spi- 
 der firmly. 
 
 " Then I reckon Fd have a pow'ful good 
 chancst. But they ain't no man gwine git removed 
 away f um a town where he's makin' money. An' 
 no matter what faults Tempus Attucks is got, he 
 shuah has a itch fo' the dollar, an' it's a itch whut 
 gits scratched frequent." 
 
 Spider Hawkins rose to the full of his five feet 
 of height. He placed an affectionate hand on his 
 friend's arm. "Pliny, me an' yo' is been frien's 
 fo' a might' long time. I reckon it's soht of up to 
 me to git Charity Chism clinchin' 'round yo' neck 
 pretty pronto." 
 
 " Yo' cain't do nothin', Spider." 
 
 " Mebbe so an' mebbe not. But I got a hunch 
 wunst I git ol' Tempus Attucks runnin' free in the 
 homestretch I c'n kick a li'l bit of dust in his eyes 
 an' romp home under wraps." 
 
 " Yo' mos' prob'ly knows hawses, Spider," 
 gloomed Pliny, " but thisyer Tempus ain't no 
 hawss. He's a mule an' he cain't be driv'." 
 
 " Hmph ! But mules c'n be pushed ! " pro- 
 claimed Spider, and thereupon put an end to the 
 subject, his beam of hope seeping through the 
 Stygian blackness of despair to dimly light the 
 soul of the doleful Pliny. 
 
 But that night Spider did little planning. Five 
 minutes after he deposited his tiny but well-knit 
 frame on the home couch he was off into a deep and 
 dreamless sleep from which he was waked at ten 
 o'clock by his voluminous mother, who proudly 
 bore aloft a tin waiter containing a breakfast such 
 as Spider had almost forgotten. As he munched
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 131 
 
 he beamed gloriously from his background of pink 
 silk pajamas and brought delight to the maternal 
 ears: 
 
 " Hones', Mom, thisyer shuah is the bestest grub 
 done pas'd my lips sencst I been No'th. Ain't no- 
 body makes no waffles an' coffee like what yo' does. 
 Tha's how come li'l Spider aint never got him no 
 gal. Swell gals up where I been at plenty of 
 'em but, shucks ! ef I was to marry one of 'em 
 I 1 d git d'vohced pow'ful quick on account of tellin' 
 her how Mom useter cook. Yassum : Jes' shuah's 
 a jinny ain't no race-hawss. Gimme s'mo' that they 
 jelly, Mom. I 'clare, yo' is the bestest jelly maker 
 what is. Yo' jelly an' waffles is the fondest thing 
 I'm of, an' tha's a fac'. B'lieve me, Mom, my oP 
 man was lucky fo' to ever marry a gal like what 
 yo' is." 
 
 When he left the house a half hour later his 
 mother was contentedly chanting an old and al- 
 most-forgotten plantation melody as she busied 
 herself with the luncheon preliminaries. Mamma 
 Hawkins was happier than she had been in two long 
 years. She found herself gazing after the tiny, 
 swaggering figure of her elegant son and marvel- 
 ling that she had been blessed of the Gods. 
 
 At the ornate lodge rooms of the exclusive Sons 
 & Daughters of 1 Will Arise, Spider found several 
 indolent brothers who were equalizing a sudden 
 raise in wages by laying off for the day. From 
 there he dropped into Broughton's drug store where 
 he quaffed an ice cream soda and jollied the grin- 
 ning soda-jerker. He wandered forth and passed 
 the time o' day with the portly ticket taker of 
 Champion Moving Picture Theatre No. 2 ; and later
 
 132 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 dropped into the editorial sanctum of The Weekly 
 Epoch where he furnished sufficient data for a two- 
 column sketch of himself. 
 
 Meanwhile there was much deep thinking dis- 
 turbing the mental processes of coloured profes- 
 sional circles. In the veins of Lawyer Evans Chew, 
 for example, there coursed the hot blood of a specu- 
 lating race and flaming in his mind was remem- 
 brance of the tip dropped so casually and good- 
 naturedly by Jockey Spider Hawkins the previous 
 night. 
 
 A maiden five-year-old by the name of Laddie 
 Buck, Spider had prognosticated, was a sure thing 
 for the fourth race at Saratoga the coming Satur- 
 day. Laddie Buck was going to the post a long 
 shot. Anywhere from thirty- to fifty-to-one. Five 
 dollars bet on Laddie Buck at thirty minimum 
 odds stood to net the successful bettor one hun- 
 dred and fifty dollars. The risk was small; the 
 potential reaping, large. Lawyer Evans Chew 
 nodded, wrote a check for five dollars, cashed it at 
 the bank downstairs and made his way forthwith 
 to the office of Tempus Attucks, broker and general 
 agent for Jackson Ramsay, arch operator. He met 
 Dr. Vivian Simmons emerging. 
 
 " Howdye, Doctor Simmons." 
 
 " Mornin', Lawyer Chew." 
 
 " Been transacting soine business with Brother 
 Attucks?" 
 
 " Most likely." 
 
 Evans Chew grinned. " Business named Laddie 
 Buck, ain't it, Doctor? " 
 
 " Jus' about. You on the same mission? " 
 
 " Five dollars' worth. How about you? "
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 133 
 
 " Five for myself and one for Sally Crouch." 
 
 " It's a good chance, Doctor." 
 
 " Fine chance, Lawyer Chew. There's heaps of 
 others believing that Spider Hawkins gave us an 
 accurate tip. They're all goin' to lay wagers : Si- 
 meon Broughton and Florian Slappey of course 
 Florian would and while I ain't sayin' it's so, 
 mind you, Sister Gallic Flukers was hintin' that 
 she heard that Rev'end Plato Tubb of the Fust 
 African M. E. Chu'ch was considerin' risking two f 
 dollars." 
 
 The attorney chuckled. " Rev'end Tubb has a 
 lib'ral conscience, Doctor Simmons. Reckon he'd 
 argue he wasn't betting on account he's so sure he's 
 goin' to win." 
 
 For Tempus Attucks, business maintained a ter- 
 rific pace throughout the day. By some magic, the 
 news of Spider Hawkins' sure-thing for the fourth 
 race Saturday had spread through darktown. To 
 the office of Tempus Attucks came the elite and the 
 humble, laying wagers ranging from twenty-five 
 cents to five dollars on Laddie Buck at the best 
 odds obtainable at the opening of the books Satur- 
 day. There was an indefinable something in the 
 calm confidence of the bettors which seeped into 
 Teinpus's blood and set it a-simmering. 
 
 He had known Spider Hawkins only by reputa- 
 tion, but the day's business indicated that the com- 
 munity had implicit confidence in Spider's judg- 
 ment. Folks believed that Laddie Buck was des- 
 tined to romp home ahead of the field as Spider 
 had forecasted. If that were the case. . . . 
 
 Tempus Attucks was sufficiently affluent to covet 
 real wealth. At no time in his soft life had he
 
 134 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ever been down to his last dollar. Conversely, he 
 had at no time possessed more than eight hundred. 
 At present he was seized and possessed of just about 
 three hundred and fifty. And he calculated rapidly 
 that if Laddie Buck should win and he had hap- 
 pened to bet at long odds. . . . 
 
 The community was confident. When Tempus 
 closed his books that night his friends and fellow 
 citizens had entrusted him with no less than sev- 
 enty-two dollars, every cent of which was to be 
 laid on Laddie Buck. It went to Tempus Attucks' 
 head like wine. He determined to get in on the 
 game himself. But Tempus was canny. Taking 
 a chance had no place in his cosmic scheme. He 
 sought the fount of knowledge : he insinuated him- 
 self upon Jockey Spider Hawkins, whom he found 
 puffing a black, gold-banded cigar in the doorway 
 of Sally Crouch's Cozy Home Hotel. 
 
 " Evenin' Brother Hawkins." 
 
 " Howdye, Mistuh Attucks." 
 
 " Have another cigar? " 
 
 Spider sniffed it delicately. " Good terbaccer, 
 Brother Attucks." He slipped it into a silver cigar 
 holder. "How yo' makin' it, Brother Attucks?" 
 
 " Slow pow'f ul slow. Things don't seem to 
 pick up none whatever." 
 
 " Sorry. Might' sorry. Folks been prospectin' 
 to me yo' been gittin' on tollable well." 
 
 " Gittin' on? " Tempus laughed a short, bitter 
 laugh. " Gittin' on means a diff'ent language to 
 these heah niggers an' to you an' me, Brother Haw- 
 kins." 
 
 Spider nodded. " Ain't it the truth now, Brother 
 Attucks ? Ain't it the truth ? "
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 135 
 
 " Shuah is. These heah niggers, ef they got a 
 hund'ed dollars they think they got all the money 
 what is. Me an' you : us knows that ain't nothin' 
 on'y a baggy tell." 
 
 " Ain't it so? Hund'ed ain't nothin' tall. Not 
 nothin' tall it ain't." 
 
 " Co'se I got a good business. Makes a trifle 
 ev'y Ifl heah an' there. Always 'members my 
 frien's: always do. Anybody'll tell yo' that 'bout 
 Tempus Attucks. Yassuh : they shuah will. But 
 times is slow. What I wants is r'il money. Sho' 
 nuff lots of it." 
 
 " Mos' all of us is 'flicted thataway, ain't it? " 
 
 Attucks nudged Spider playfully. " Yo' is shuah 
 the humourestest feller. . . ." 
 
 " Aw, sa-a-ay. . . ." 
 
 " Yo' is, shuah nuff. Reckon yo' knows a heap 
 of things." 
 
 " Reckon I does." 
 
 " 'Bout hawses an' sech." 
 
 " Soht of." 
 
 "What I likes 'bout yo', Brother Hawkins 
 what I likes the very mostest 'bout yo', is yo' ain't 
 no tight-lipped feller 'mongst yo' frien's." 
 
 "Me?" Spider's brows arched with surprise. 
 " Reckon yo' ain't knowed me ve'y long, Brother 
 Attucks. I'se the tight-liptest man what is." 
 
 " Not 'mongst yo' frien's." 
 
 " Shuah is." 
 
 " Ain't yo' say right out in public last night 'bout 
 that hawss Laddie Buck winnin' the fo'th race 
 Sat'dy up to Sarahtoga?" 
 
 "Laddie Buck? Lad " Spider swung sud- 
 denly and his eyes bored into those of his interro-
 
 136 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 gator : " Law', Brother Attucks, yo' ain't gone an' 
 bet no r'il money on that they dawg, is yo'? " 
 
 "Why I I thought. . . ." 
 
 " Oh ! Golly, Brother Attucks; tell me yo' ain't 
 took serious what I said las' night 'bout that they 
 ol' jack," pleaded Spider. " Tell me the truth 
 yo' ain't bet on him, is yo'? " 
 
 YO' yo' said " 
 
 " I wasn't on'y foolin'. Tha's all. Ev'y man c'n 
 have his li'l joke sometimes. But I woul'n't go 
 spillin' no live tips thataway. Law', no." 
 
 " Yo' yo' means to stan' up they, Brother Haw- 
 kins, an' tell me Laddie Buck ain't got no chancst 
 to win thisyer fo'th race Sat'dy? " 
 
 " Win it? Win?'" Spider threw back his head 
 and laughed ringingly. " Say, Brother Attucks, ef 
 yo' was ever to see that they she-cow yo'd die 
 laughin'. On'y way that dawg could win, Brother 
 Attucks, would be ef ev'y other hawss in the race 
 done fell down at the barrier an' on'y then per- 
 vidin' Laddie Buck could travel th' distance a tall. 
 Hones' a th'ee-legged nannygoat c'd give that nag 
 a six-fu'long staht in a seben-fu'long race an' breeze 
 under the wire a length to th' good. Laddie 
 Buck's jes' one of them hawses wasn't nev' meant 
 to win. W'en he's down to staht the jedges write 
 his name in the also-ran colyum an' f oh git he's 
 alive. En all the time I been spohtin' silk, Brother 
 Attucks, I ain't saw nothin' slower'n that 
 Laddie Buck 'ceptin' a lame snail I knowed 
 oncet." 
 
 "But but yo' said" 
 
 "Listen heah at what I'se tellin' yo', Brother
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 137 
 
 Attucks: is yo' done gone an' bet yo r money on 
 Laddie Buck, or isn't yo'? " 
 
 " I ain't bet none yit." 
 
 "Then don't! An' tha's the bestest adwice I 
 ev' gave anybody. Ef yo' wanna git some r'il fun 
 out of that they money yo' was gwine bet on Laddie 
 Buck, change it into si'ver dollars an' climb to the 
 top of the mount'in an' see how far yo' c'n scale 
 'em. B'lieve me, w'en the hawss stawk brought 
 Laddie Buck, Brother Attucks, she made a mis- 
 take. He should of been drapped in a liver' stable." 
 
 " Yo' said " floundered Tempus weakly. 
 
 "Tha's what comes of yo' not knowin' me, 
 Brother Attucks. Ef yo' had of knowed me long 
 yo'd of knowed I was on'y jokin'." 
 
 " Hmph ! " remarked the disgruntled Tempus 
 cryptically, " I reckon they ain't many folks in 
 thisyer town what knows yo' r'il well, Brother 
 Hawkins. Not many." 
 
 And with that Tempus Attucks walked away, 
 shaking his head slowly. He was thinking earn- 
 estly of the seventy-two dollars in his pocket; 
 money left with him by those friends of Spider 
 Hawkins who had believed in him and the decrepit 
 Laddie Buck. 
 
 On Saturday evening Tempus Attucks eased into 
 the odorous, dingy sanctum of Jackson Ramsay, 
 the white and portly professional gambler who 
 made a more than merely excellent living from the 
 contributions of the coloured community. 
 
 Tempus responded absently to Kamsay's cheery 
 greeting and retired behind a cloud of fragrant
 
 138 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 cigar smoke. Ramsay busied himself with arrange- 
 ments for the drawing of Genuine the afternoon 
 lottery and paid small heed to the visiting 
 agents. 
 
 There came a tap at the door, it swung back and 
 a small boy darted in. Tempus Attucks sat up 
 stiffly in his chair, the cigar gripped between his 
 teeth. He watched Jackson Ramsay rip open the 
 telegram and impassively peruse its contents. 
 
 "From Sarahtoga? '' queried Tempus thickly. 
 
 " Yes," answered Ramsay, and then turned to his 
 assistant : " Put these results down." The assist- 
 ant stationed himself before the blackboard, chalk 
 in hand. 
 
 " Ready, Cap'n Ramsay." 
 
 " Saratoga : First race Baboon Baby, Mother 
 Hubbard, Terrapin. Second race Farrallon, 
 Carl K, Little Sister. Third race Venita 
 Strome, Grosvenor, Carlisle. Fourth race 
 Jackson Ramsay paused in his dictation and whis- 
 tled softly. Tempus Attucks felt every muscle in 
 his body grow tense. Tiny beads of perspiration 
 stood out on his forehead. 
 
 " Fo'th race, Cap'n ? " 
 
 " I'll be horn-swoggled ! " 
 
 " Boss-man . . . please . . . 'bout that they fo'th 
 race? " 
 
 " Forty-to-one shot romps home ! " 
 
 The room swam before the eyes of Tempus At- 
 tucks : " Fohty to one shot, Cap'n? " 
 
 " Forty-to-one. Til be " 
 
 " Cap'n Ramsay please, suh what the name 
 of that they fohty-to-one shot? " 
 
 " Laddie Buck ! Hey, what's the matter? " for,
 
 TEMPUS FUGITS 139 
 
 with a groan of agony, Tempus Attucks had risen. 
 
 " Ain' feel so well, Boss-man." He staggered to- 
 ward the door. 
 
 " But Tempus " 
 
 " Ain' got no feelin's fo' no convuhsation, Cap'n. 
 Be back d'rec'ly." Tempus opened the door. 
 " Fohty-to-one ! Oh ! my Law' ! " The door closed 
 gently behind him. 
 
 Haste was slow in comparison with the method 
 of transit employed by Tempus Attucks in getting 
 to the Terminal Station. Pop-eyed and trembling, 
 he bought a ticket for Washington that train 
 being the only one scheduled to start within the 
 next fifteen minutes. And when the train pulled 
 out, a limp and lachrymose Tempus Attucks was 
 huddled in an inconspicuous corner. 
 
 Meanwhile the news of Laddie Buck's victory 
 spread through darktown like wildfire. Jubilant 
 bettors sought Tempus Attucks, agent. Tempus 
 was nowhere in evidence. 
 
 One hour later the truth was suspected. An- 
 other hour and the truth w r as known. Tempus At- 
 tucks had departed the city: when or whither no 
 one knew. But the thoroughly aroused populace 
 was poignantly aware of the fact that Tempus 
 owed it something in the neighbourhood of three 
 thousand dollars. The sentiment against the de- 
 parted gentleman was thoroughly crystallized, su- 
 premely unanimous and utterly murderous. 
 
 The only ray of light came to the doleful Pliny 
 Driver from the lips of his friend, Jockey Spider 
 Hawkins. Spider slapped his pal on the back with 
 a jovial : " He's done flew ! " 
 
 " Hmph ! " sceptically, " tha's what they say."
 
 140 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " They is sayin' the truth." 
 
 " How come yo' to know that? " 
 
 " Pliny Driver, ain't I done tol' yo' no longer 
 ago than las' Toosday I'd git rid of ol' Tempus 
 Attueks so's yo'd have a cl'ar road to Charity 
 Chism?" 
 
 " Yeh. Yo' tol' me. . . ." 
 
 "I done it!" 
 
 "Done what?" 
 
 " Got rid of Brother Tempus so's he'll nev' come 
 within a hund'ed miles of thisyer town ag'in." 
 
 " How come that? " 
 
 " N'r two hund'ed. N'r th'ee hund'ed." 
 
 " Yo' is makin' foolishments with me." 
 
 " I'se serious." 
 
 " Splain it to me, Spider," begged Pliny hope- 
 fully. "An' for Gawd's sake, Spider, splain it 
 tho'ough!" 
 
 " Oome this way, Pliny. OF Tempus plays 'em 
 safe. An' day after I got heah an' drapped that 
 they tip 'bout Laddie Buck shuah gwine win the 
 fo'th race this afternoon, ev'ybody stahted layin' 
 they money with Tempus to place with Cap'n Ram- 
 say. That's too much fo' Tempus an' he 'lows 
 he'll git in on the killin'. So he braces me is my 
 tip straight. 
 
 " An' Pliny, I tell him Laddie Buck ain't got no 
 mo' chancst of winnin' that race than what you 
 is got of not marryin' Charity Chism. An' 'mem- 
 ber thisyer, Pliny: I nev' tol' my Men's nothin' 
 but the straight truth. What I tol' a ol' crook like 
 Tempus don't matter to nobody ef I was a li'l bit 
 lib'ral in my guesses." 
 
 " But," groped Pliny dazedly: " Why'd yo' tell
 
 TEMPOS FUGITS 141 
 
 Tempus Laddie Buck didn't have no chancst to 
 win?" 
 
 " 'Cause I had ol' Tempus' number, Pliny. Come 
 him to b'lieve Laddie Buck ain't got no chancst 
 he thinks how foolish to waste all them seventy 
 dollars he's got when they's gwine be lost. So he 
 c'ludes better fo' them seventy to stay in Tempus's 
 pocket than to go to them race-track men. 
 
 " Tha's how come, Pliny. Tempus never laid 
 them bets a tall! Nary dollar! Come Laddie 
 Buck romps home like what I knowed he was gwine 
 do Tempus Attucks finds hisse'f owin' theseyer 
 niggers nigh onto th'ee thousan' dollars. 
 
 " They warn't but one thing he could do, Pliny ; 
 an' he run true to fohm. Mahk my word : f oh about 
 a hund'ed yeahs or so 'round this heah town Tempus 
 Attucks is gwine be 'bout the scarcest thing what 
 is!"
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 
 
 EMEMBEE, Gussie, I want the dining-room 
 thorough-cleaned. The Browning Club 
 meets here this afternoon and " 
 
 " Yassum, Mis' C'ruthers, it'll be so clean you 
 ain't gwine know it." 
 
 " And the flat silver must be polished." 
 
 " I'se gwine 'tend to all of that. You trot 'long 
 downtown, Mis' C'ruthers, an' leave it to me." 
 
 Mrs. Franklin Carruthers heaved a sigh of in- 
 effable contentment. " You are a very valuable 
 servant, Gussie. Good-bye." 
 
 " G'-bye, Mis' C'ruthers. Be sho' an' have a good 
 time." 
 
 The front door of the apartment slammed. Miss 
 Gussie Muck, coloured maid-of-most-of-the-work, 
 mopped the polished floor of the dining-room vi- 
 ciously for. perhaps two minutes until the thrum 
 of Mrs. Carruthers' automobile came to her ears 
 then gently turned back the corner of the axminster 
 art square. When she replaced the corner the dust 
 had disappeared. Then Gussie leaned her mop 
 against the door, strolled into Mrs. Carruthers' 
 bedroom and seated herself at the dressing-table. 
 
 A coating of talcum, a touch of face powder, a 
 dab of rouge and Gussie was well satisfied that she 
 had enhanced the physical glories of feature with 
 which she had been endowed by nature. She made 
 her way to the living-room, selected a lurid novel 
 from the bookcase and dropped languidly into an 
 
 145
 
 146 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 easy chair after having first helped herself to a 
 quartet of particularly toothsome glace" fruits 
 from the box on the library table. 
 
 She was interrupted by the strident ringing of 
 the kitchen bell. Her face expressed complete dis- 
 approval of the interruption. But at sight of the 
 man standing on the tiny back porch the expression 
 underwent a decided change. 
 
 Aaron Segar was not unused to the phenomenon. 
 Aaron had been born with a gift for making women 
 smile and grow warm all over. He w r as handsome 
 and tall and broad and divinely chocolate-creamy 
 of skin. He unleashed his most fetching laugh for 
 Gussie. 
 
 " Howdye, Miss Muck." 
 
 " Mawnin', Mistuh Segar." 
 
 "Wukin' hahd?" 
 
 Gussie sighed. "Beckon I is. Ain't nobody 
 livin' these days what ain't wuk hahd, Misto' Se- 
 gar." 
 
 " You shuah said sumpin' then, Miss Gussie. 
 Wuk, wuk, wuk all the time. Me more'n you." 
 
 " Huh ! " 
 
 " That's the truth. Ain't no gittin' off fo' me. 
 Bein' a janitor is a pow'ful hahd perfession, Miss 
 Gussie." 
 
 " Reckon you is strong enough to stan' it, Mistuh 
 Segar." 
 
 " Reckon I is. But it's pow'ful ti'esome an' 
 lonely, Gussie. It been diffe'ent down to S'vannah 
 whar I come fum. They ain't 'spec a man to do no 
 th'ee men's wuk down they." 
 
 " You was a 'pahtment-house janitor there same 
 asheah?"
 
 -NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 147 
 
 " Uh-huh ! " He lowered his voice discreetly. 
 " Ain't I saw Mis' C'ruthers go off in her car jes' 
 now?" 
 
 " Yeh." 
 
 He opened the screen door. " Don't mind if n 
 I drap in, does you? " 
 
 " He'p yo'se'f, Mistuh Segar." 
 
 He waved his hand grandiosely. " You'n me is 
 gwine be good Men's, ain't we, Gussie? " 
 
 " Guess you c'n answer that well as me." 
 
 " Then call me ' Aaron.' " 
 
 " Ain't knowed you but th'ee days." 
 
 " You gwine know me longer'n that. Boun' to." 
 
 "Well. . . ." 
 
 "All the gals what I likes, I asks them to call 
 me Aaron. I nev' was no shakes fo' fo'mal'ty. 
 Fust names atween frien's, I says. Tha's how come 
 I to call you Gussie. You ain't got no 'jections, is 
 you? " 
 
 " This town ain't S'vannah, Mistuh Segar." 
 
 He rose. " If n you ain't gwine call me 
 Aaron " 
 
 "Aaron!" 
 
 He re-seated himself. "Tha's better. No 
 this heah town ain't like S'vannah, Gussie. Up 
 heah, they ain't no tellin' who's quality folks an' 
 who ain't that is, 'mongst the white folks. An' 
 I'se always been pow'ful p'tic'lar 'bout what soht 
 of white folks I wuks fo'." 
 
 " I ain't blamin' you, Aaron. Us coloured peo- 
 ple cain't be too 'ticalar. How you like it up 
 heah?" 
 
 " Tol'able. On'y tol'able." 
 
 "How come?"
 
 148 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " I'se lonely, Gussie. Ain't know nobody in this 
 heah town. On'y a few. Come night, they ain't 
 nothin' fo' me to do but go down to the 'pahtment 
 what they gives me in the basement an' set 
 'roun' an' wisht I was married so's I woul'n't be so 
 lonely." 
 
 " Huh ! Bet you been married ! " 
 
 Aaron Segar laughed heartily. " Is I look it? " 
 
 " We-e-ell : not 'zactly." 
 
 "An' they's a reason, Gussie. I ain't nev' met 
 the gal I wan'ed to marry. Not twell yet." 
 
 "Beckon you is might' hahd to please, Mistuh 
 Segar." 
 
 "Aaron-!" 
 
 " Aaron." 
 
 " Reckon I is hahd to please. Tha's how come I 
 to watch ontil Mis' C'ruthers' gone off in her car, 
 an' then come up heah." 
 
 " How that? " 
 
 " I ain't make much talk with you, Gussie but 
 you shuah looks pow'ful good to me." 
 
 " G'wan, Aaron. You is some loose flatt'rer." 
 
 " Reckon I is got the cou'age of my convictions." 
 
 " Reckon you think I is like them S'vannah gals 
 swally all that bull." 
 
 "Gals whut I is went with heahtofo' ain't got 
 so many compliments fum me." 
 
 " How I know that? " 
 
 " B'lieve it or not. I cain't make you." 
 
 "Well. . . . Hongry?" 
 
 " Always, 'ceptin' when I c'n git to town. Does 
 my own cookin' downstairs, Gussie. Man's got to, 
 come he ain't got no wife. So I ain't git ve'y good 
 food. Why you ask me? "
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 149 
 
 " They was a couple chops lef ' over fum break- 
 fas'. . . ." 
 
 "You cook 'em?" 
 
 " Uh-huh ! " 
 
 "Trot 'em out. Bet they is some fine-cooked 
 chops." 
 
 Gussie spurred herself to real activity for some 
 five minutes whilst she basked in the light of Aaron 
 Segar's unqualified approval. She heated two suc- 
 culent lamb chops, made three slices of crisp toast 
 which she buttered liberally, and poured the solid 
 cream top from the quart of fresh milk. And 
 Aaron exhibited his appreciation by a marvellous 
 display of gustatory gymnastics. Finally he fin- 
 ished, sighed and regretfully shoved his plate aside. 
 
 " Golly ! you shuah is some cook ! " 
 
 " Reckon I is got to be if n I hoi' my job with 
 Mis' C'ruthers. White folks is awful capshus, 
 Aaron. They spec' they coloured he'p to wuk all 
 the time." 
 
 " Aint you talkin' now? " 
 
 " Sometimes I is got a pow'ful good notion to 
 cut loose an' git married." 
 
 Aaron delayed his departure with one hand on 
 the door. All the wealth of a contagiously sunny 
 nature went into the smile which he bestowed upon 
 her. " When you makes up yo' mind to git mar- 
 ried, Gussie, don't fohgit my telephone number 
 cas'n you have any trouble findin' a husband." 
 
 As he stomped down the steps leading to the 
 decorative back court of the Glen Ridge apart- 
 ments, Gussie dropped into a kitchen chair and 
 stared raptly into space. Aaron Segar! What a 
 man! Of their own volition her thoughts veered
 
 150 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 dreamily to the little apartment which the pro- 
 prietors of the Glen Ridge apartments furnished 
 their janitor. Bedroom, dining-room, kitchen 
 gas, steam heat, hot and cold water. . . . Gussie 
 sighed. 
 
 Meanwhile the magnificent Aaron paused at the 
 back door of Mrs. Percival Connor's apartment. 
 His hypercritical eyes rested with infinite appre- 
 ciation on the trim little figure of one Mallissie 
 Cheese, cook and nurse girl in the Connor menage. 
 
 " Mawnin', M'lissie." 
 
 The girl shrugged with simulated indifference: 
 Mawnin'." 
 
 " What's the matter : somebody been rub you the 
 wrong way? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You seem 'bout as happy as a live pig at a bar- 
 becue." 
 
 " Reckon I is happy, Mistuh Segar." 
 
 " Mis' Connor been givin' you down-the-coun- 
 try? " 
 
 " Reckon they ain't no white folks try no sech 
 fumadiddles on me, Mistuh Segar." 
 
 "How come you to fohgit my name Aaron?" 
 
 " Reckon I fo'gits so Gussie Muck up to Mis' 
 C'ruthers' c'n remember it." 
 
 Aaron threw back his head and gave vent to a 
 hearty laugh. " Shucks ! You ain't gwine git jeal- 
 ous of a ol' frump like Gussie Muck, is you? " 
 
 Mallissie looked up. More she smiled. 
 " Gussie Muck is a pow'ful pretty gal, Aaron." 
 
 He shook his head in diplomatic negation. 
 " Reckon you an' me is got diffe'ent tastes, Mallis- 
 sie. I like 'em li'l like what you is."
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 151 
 
 When Aaron departed from the Connor kitchen 
 about five minutes later he left Mallissie Cheese 
 humming happily and dated-up to accompany him 
 to Champion Moving Picture Theatre No. 2 that 
 night to see the nineteenth episode of " The Fight- 
 ing Fate " which they agreed upon as the high- 
 water mark in motion picture production. 
 
 The new janitor reached the back court and 
 he met Fashion Wilson, a girl of the Gussie Muck 
 tJP e only a trifle more so. She was seated on a 
 bench under the big oak giving half an eye to the 
 care of two children and the other one and a half 
 to Aaron. 
 
 " Been paintin' Mis' Connor's kitchen, Aaron? " 
 
 " Naw." 
 
 " How come you in they so long? " 
 
 " Been tryin' to git down heah an' talk with you. 
 Fashi'n, but that skinny li'l gal what wuks fo' Mis' 
 Connor whut her name is? " 
 
 " Mallissie Cheese." 
 
 " Tha's it I plumb fo'got. It jes' seemed like 
 she woul'n't lemme git away. Jes' settin' they an' 
 makin' a whole passel of foolish talk. . . ." 
 
 " Mallissie's a might' nice gal." 
 
 " Guess they is some things you'n me won't nev' 
 agree on, Fashi'n." 
 
 " An' pretty " 
 
 " I likes mo' of them than what they is of M'lis- 
 sie." He cast the eye of a connoisseur over Fash- 
 ion's junoesque proportions. Then he eased him- 
 self to the bench beside her. "How 'bout goin' 
 down to Champeen number Two with me tomorry 
 night, huh? " 
 
 " Whyn't you ask Ella? "
 
 152 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Ella which?" 
 
 " Ella Dungee." 
 
 " That funny-lookin' gal whut wuks fo' Mis' Ham- 
 mond? Whut fo' I should ask her?" 
 
 " You is been hangin' 'roun' that 'partment right 
 smaht lately." 
 
 " Huh ! Reckon I is had to. Way that gal keeps 
 Mis' Hammond's kitchen, Fashi'n if n I diVt git 
 that they place cleaned out they'd be roaches all 
 over this heah 'pahtment in a week. Guess Ella 
 Dungee ain't Aaron Segar's style a tall, a tall." 
 
 But twenty minutes later when he met Ella 
 Dungee after having conducted a strategic retire- 
 ment from the immediate presence of the buxom 
 Fashion, he gave her a heart-warming smile. 
 " 'Clare to goodness, Ella if 'n you ain't the ve'y 
 purties' gal I ev' did see ! " 
 
 " Bet you is said that th'ee hund'ed times today, 
 Aaron." 
 
 " Cain't be. Ain't seed you but this oncet." 
 
 " Nothin' pretty 'bout me." 
 
 " I gwine buy you a lookin' glass, Ella. By the 
 way: got a date fo' Sat'dy night? " 
 
 " No-o." 
 
 " How 'bout gwine to Champeen Number Two 
 with me? " 
 
 "Well. . . ." 
 
 He waved cheerily as he descended to his base- 
 ment. " Man sho' is lucky when he c'n date up 
 with a gal like you, Ella." 
 
 " You is a sof talker, Aaron." 
 
 "Me? Shucks! I woul'n't know how to pay a 
 complyment if 'n I wan'ed to ! "
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 153 
 
 It really wasn't Aaron's fault. He had been cre- 
 ated with a talent for women and was no believer 
 iu burying any talent. Women gravitated toward 
 him. They clung to him. They pestered an other- 
 wise equable existence. 
 
 His obliging nature was the petard upon which 
 he was hoist. He hated to disappoint anybody 
 especially a lady friend. And he was frankly flat- 
 tered by their unanimous and unconcealed adora- 
 tion. 
 
 And these girls were different from his Savannah 
 friends, just as the Glen Ridge apartments were 
 better than the unpretentious things he had jan- 
 itor'd on Savannah's Abercorn street. These girls 
 had more elan, their ideas were metropolitan. 
 They were women of fine discrimination and deli- 
 cate appreciation as different from the crude, 
 provincial product of Tybee and Thunderbolt as 
 high yaller is different from ebony. 
 
 More standing in with the cooks w r as a ma- 
 terial proposition. His own culinary labour and 
 expenses were reduced. Aaron was an epicure and 
 appreciated the fact that the Gray, Connor, Ham- 
 mond and Carruthers families lived upon the fat 
 of the land. The lagniappe from their pantries 
 tickled his palate and brightened his philosophy. 
 
 He liked the city and the city liked him. Within 
 two months he had become somewhat of a social 
 lion. He was initiated into the exclusive Sons & 
 Daughters of I Will Arise; he joined the ten-cents-a- 
 week Over The River Burying Society and became 
 a prominent and valued mourner at the obsequies 
 of the dear departed brothers and sisters who were
 
 154 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ushered from this mortal coil with full panoply of 
 parade and music. He sang a pleasing bari- 
 tone and joined the choir of the Primitive Baptist 
 Church much to the delight of the Rev'end Ar- 
 landas Sipsey, pastor thereof. Reverends Plato 
 Tubb and Wesley Luther Thigpen of the First 
 African M. E. and the Shiloh congregations re- 
 spectively, admitted 1;hat the Reverend Arlandas 
 had outgeneralled them. Aaron Segar was an ac- 
 quisition of which any church might well be proud. 
 
 He was decidedly a man of parts. His salary of 
 eighty-five dollars per month was exclusive of per- 
 quisites such as a steam-heated, furnished apart- 
 ment at the Glen Ridge and estovers provided by 
 the admiring cooks over whom his spell had been 
 cast. 
 
 But the swift flight of time brought a wrinkle to 
 the normally placid forehead of Aaron Segar. He 
 found himself facing a near-domestic problem to 
 which there was no apparent answer, and he be- 
 sought the professional services of Lawyer Evans 
 Chew, leading light of darktown's legal fraternity. 
 
 The buxom stenographer warmed to Aaron's 
 sweetest smile and carried his name into the private 
 sanctum of Lawyer Chew. She returned promptly. 
 
 " Lawyer Chew will see you in a minute, Mistuh 
 Segar. He's in confe'ence now." 
 
 Aaron waited patiently, amusing himself by flirt- 
 ing violently with the stenographer, whose hitherto 
 impregnable heart pounded with wild hope. 
 Finally the pompous conferees departed and Law- 
 yer Chew slender, immaculate, horn-rim-spec- 
 tacled personally ushered Aaron into the pri- 
 vate office.
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 155 
 
 "Mister Segar I am delighted to meet you." 
 
 " Me, too, Lawyer Chew." 
 
 " You wish to consult me on a professional mat- 
 ter? " 
 
 " Yassuh tha's it 'zactly, Lawyer Chew." 
 
 "Ahem. . . . Proceed, please." 
 
 " Yassuh " Aaron groped blindly, then 
 smiled wanly. " I ain't 'zactly know whar to be- 
 gin at." 
 
 " What sort of a case is it? " 
 
 " Dunno less'n you'd call it britch of prom- 
 ise." 
 
 "A-ha! You have become involved with lay 
 patcct fcmme, as they say in French." 
 
 "How that?" 
 
 " You are involved with a member of the er 
 gentler sex." 
 
 " Yassuh ! Involved is right sho' nuff ." 
 
 " How did it occur? " 
 
 " It ain't occur, Lawyer Chew it jes' happen." 
 
 " What is the lady's name? " 
 
 " 'Tain't no lady." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Nossuh ; it's fo' wirnmin." 
 
 " Four? " 
 
 " Tha's it : one, two, th'ee, fo'." 
 
 Lawyer Chew leaned forward incredulously. 
 " Do you mean to tell me, Brother Segar, that you 
 are faced by four britch of promise suits? " 
 
 " I c'n cut it down to th'ee, if'n that'll help any." 
 
 " How so? " 
 
 "Marry one of them wimmin an' let the other 
 th'ee scratch." 
 
 "Ahem! Strawdinry! A case prob'ly without
 
 156 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 parallel on the books. How does it happen that 
 you have fallen into the error " 
 
 " 'Twarn't no error, Lawyer Chew 'twarn't 
 nothin' but a mistake." 
 
 " I suppose it was. Who are the ladies in ques- 
 tion?" 
 
 "They's M'lissie Cheese an' Ella Dungee an' 
 Fashi'n Wilson an' Gussie Muck. They wuks out 
 to the Glen Ridge 'pahtments whar I is janitor at. 
 An'," his eyes twinkled irrepressibly, " they is 
 mighty lovin'." 
 
 " I see : I see. Continue, please." 
 
 " I'se tellin' you this right heah an' now, Lawyer 
 Chew they ain't hahdly no man c'n handle one 
 woman. But fo } wimmin, Lawyer Chew, is an un- 
 possibility. I knows!'' 
 
 " You are sure that they will all sue you? " 
 
 " I ain't know as any of them is because I sort 
 of got 'em guessin'. But a woman ain't got but 
 so much guessin' in her, Lawyer Chew an' when 
 that gits used up, she wants action. Y'see, right 
 now they ain't nary one of them gals knows which 
 one I is gwine pick out. They is jes' 'bout tearin' 
 one-nuther's ha'r out by the roots but they's all 
 kinder skeered to light in on me 'cause they's the 
 chancst that they is the lucky one. 
 
 " I been playin' both ends 'gainst the middle, 
 Lawyer Chew an' the middle is might' nigh 
 reached. I ain't know whether I is comin' or goin'. 
 Meanw'ile they is all tryin' to find out whar I stan' 
 at." 
 
 "What have you told them?" 
 
 " I done swore to each of them gals she is the 
 one I gwine marry. An' they is gittin' pow'ful
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 157 
 
 impatient. I sort of wan'ed to fin' out what is the 
 law on britches of promise not jes' one britch, 
 but a whole lot of 'em." 
 
 Lawyer Chew cleared his throat and thumbed 
 portentously through the Alabama code. He next 
 consulted his Southern Reporter and his Cyc. He 
 shook his head discouragingly. " The dictas ain't 
 ve'y clear about yo' sort of a case, Brother Segar. 
 Seems like the men what wrote the law books never 
 entertained no idea of a man gettin' engaged to 
 four women at one time." 
 
 " Oh! Golly. . . . You mean to set they an' tell 
 me, Lawyer Chew, that they ain't nothin' in all 
 them books gwine show me how to git out of the 
 pickle Ise in?" 
 
 " No," reflectively. " I don't see 
 
 " Not no way? " 
 
 Lawyer Chew brightened with an idea. " If you 
 were married to all four of them women, Brother 
 Segar, I might help you, because the law is ve'y 
 specific about bigamy." 
 
 " FTuli ! If'n I was married to them fo' wim- 
 min, Lawyer Chew they ain't no law could 
 he'p me." 
 
 " I still don't understand how you got into this 
 mess." 
 
 " I di'n't git in. Hones' I di'n't. I was jes' sort 
 of pulled in like a feller listenin' at the bones click. 
 Keckon you ain't nev' had the sperience of wimmin 
 fallin' in love with you in job-lots, is you? " 
 
 " Not er precisely." 
 
 " Tha's the trouble with you lawyers. You ain't 
 had no sperience. All what you know is what has 
 been wrote in them they books. What you reckon
 
 158 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 them they men knowed 'bout M'lissie Cheese an' 
 Ella Dungee an' them other nigger gals? Huh? 
 Whut you reckon they knowed 'bout them? White 
 folks wrote them books an' white folks don' know 
 nothin' 'bout how a yaller gal c'n co't a man if'n 
 he looks good to her. Ain't that so, Lawyer Chew 
 ain't it the truth, now? " 
 
 " And you have personally pledged yourself to 
 each of the four girls? " 
 
 " Absotively an' ontirely. They woul'n't stan' 
 fo' nothin' less." 
 
 The attorney and counsellor rubbed the palms 
 of his hands unctiously. " As they isn't any stat- 
 ute or decision of a co't of las' resort covering the 
 case under consideration," he proclaimed senten- 
 tiously, " the best I can do is to consider the cir- 
 cumstances from the light of expediumcy." 
 
 "Tha's it, Lawyer Chew you sho' is tootin' 
 now." 
 
 " In that light, the best adwice I can give you, 
 Brother Segar, is that you bring about a quarrel 
 with each of the girls to which you is engaged and 
 make them break off the engagement." 
 
 Aaron Segar rose abruptly. His face was 
 wreathed in disgust. " Huh ! Reckon you ain't 
 no diffe'ent fum them foolish books, Lawyer Chew. 
 Maybe you know the law but you ain't know 
 them gals ! " 
 
 Mr. Segar left the office of Lawyer Chew more 
 perturbed than he had ever been in his placid, 
 happy-go-lucky life. He even forgot to flirt with 
 the stenographer. For once he was up against a 
 proposition from which his cheerful smile and 
 sunny disposition could not extricate him: a di-
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 159 
 
 lemma, in fact, where they were arrayed with the 
 liabilities instead of with the assets. 
 
 " I reckon," he soliloquized miserably, " they 
 ain't no nigger could ever git in no worse scrape 
 than what I is in." 
 
 In which he was wrong. There was one darkey 
 capable of getting in deeper. There was one dusky 
 gentleman who promptly proceeded to do it. 
 
 The name of that negro was Aaron Segar ! 
 
 For two nights after his interview with Law- 
 yer Evans Chew Aaron Segar met his affinity ! 
 
 The epochal event occurred at Blue Lake Park, 
 the negro amusement grounds some six miles from 
 the heart of the big southern city in which the Glen 
 Ridge apartments and Aaron's amorital troubles 
 were located. 
 
 The time was night, the occasion a gala jubilee 
 of the society season : The Eleventh Annual Bar- 
 becue and Picnic of the Primitive Baptist Church. 
 Tickets, including Gent and Lady Fifty Cents. 
 Children, half price. Come one come all. Rev. 
 Arlandas Sipsey, Pastor. 
 
 It was a noble revelry : a glory of fires burning 
 in shallow ditches fires which reached the succu- 
 lent pork quarters sizzling as they revolved on the 
 iron skewers; fires which kept hot the iron vessels 
 filled with luscious brown gravy. Barbecue spe- 
 cialists hovered over the gravy vessels, armed with 
 long mops and small tree branches. These they 
 soaked in the gravy and then spattered over the 
 roasting meat. The ample Sally Crouch presided 
 nearby in queenly fashion over the Brunswick Stew 
 division without which no barbecue is complete. 
 
 The double quartet from the Primitive Baptist
 
 160 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Church choir was harmoniously on hand and be- 
 tween songs the string and reed orchestra of Pro- 
 fessor Alec Champagne rendered toe-tickling melo- 
 dies which ranged from the classic Memphis Blues 
 to an elegantly syncopated version of the Miserere 
 which Professor Champagne claimed as an orig- 
 inal composition. Children romped and shouted 
 and got in every one's way. Church deacons clus- 
 tered in groups : grim-visaged and ponderous whilst 
 they argyfied about the heat of the hereafter and 
 the spiritual benefits of total immersion. 
 
 Young couples took shape from the darkness and 
 other young couples disappeared into the night. 
 The other congregations were plentifully repre- 
 sented : Rev'end Plato Tubb was there and so was 
 the Reverend Wesley Luther Thigpen. Then, too, 
 there was Dr. Vivian Simmons, M.D. ; and Amos 
 Stump, the perpetually smiling undertaker; and 
 Florian Slappey and Mr. and ISTrs. Simeon Brough- 
 ton, and Pliny Driver with his gaily-plumaged 
 fiancS, Charity Chism; and Peter and Mrs. Samp- 
 son, and Elias Rush and his wife n6e Imogene 
 Carter ; and Imogene's brother, Clarence ; and Pine- 
 top Roller and ponderous Mrs. Ella Hawkins and 
 Sister Gallic Flukers and the dynamic Crispus 
 Breach, fiery-penned editor of The Weekly Epoch 
 Crispus glaring intensively into the black void 
 for new adjectives with which to embellish his ac- 
 count of this social triumph. 
 
 And there, too, was lone Drought! 
 
 Aaron Segar, harassed overwrought and har- 
 ried with the nerve-strain of placating each of his 
 four fiances and compromising himself with no one 
 of them Aaron Segar saw lone Drought !
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 161 
 
 Aaron fell. 
 
 Gone on the instant were his fervent resolutions 
 to eschew women. Gone was the misogyny in- 
 spired by the utter failure of his most fervid 
 attempts to unleash himself from four pair of ar- 
 dent, clinging, feminine arms. Gone for ever was 
 the solemn pledge of celibacy. 
 
 He forgot Mallissie Cheese. He forgot Fashion 
 Wilson. He forgot Ella Dungee and Gussie Muck. 
 He forgot everything and everybody save lone 
 Drought; lone the magnificent, lone the unique, 
 lone the reserved, lone the neglected, lone the de- 
 sirable. 
 
 " Who who that gal?" he inquired of Flo- 
 rian Slappey, mentor of the younger social set. 
 
 "Which gal?" 
 
 " Over yonder : that they gal with the green dress 
 an' the yaller hat? " 
 
 Florian raised languid, bored eyes. "Oh! her? 
 She ain't nobody but lone Drought." 
 
 Aaron glared but retained his tact. " Per- 
 duce me to her, will you?" 
 
 " Shuah ! Anythin' to 'blige a f rien'." 
 
 Ten minutes later the enslaved Aaron and a 
 happiness-dazed lone dislimned into the shadows 
 of Blue Lake Park. Four pair of affianced eyes 
 searched in vain for Aaron Segar. He had dis- 
 appeared and for one glorious hour he forgot that 
 love of woman had been his undoing forgot 
 everything save that he tightly clasped the warm, 
 responsive hand of the woman who had been pre- 
 ordained as his. 
 
 Aaron Segar had fallen utterly, blindly, hope- 
 lessly, miserably in love !
 
 162 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Better men than Aaron Segar have fallen in love, 
 but none more deeply. He told lone all about it 
 so often that he repeated himself. Finally he gave 
 up in disgust the verbal attempts declaring him- 
 self no orator and took to verse: 
 
 lone your eys burn up my heart like fier 
 
 and wen I say that I shure ant no Her 
 Im fond of you so passiuate and true 
 I only wish you coud love me strong like I love you. 
 yrs. respectfuly 
 
 AARON SEOAB. 
 
 lone capitulated before the poetic shafts. Aaron 
 wasn't any Robert Browning, but he, at least, was 
 understandable. And from the outset lone had 
 been considerably dazed by Aaron's sudden pas- 
 sion and had been wary and sceptical. But a week 
 proved to her beyond peradventure of doubt that 
 his intentions were as honourable as they were 
 obvious, and thereupon she brought into action 
 the great fund of common sense with which she was 
 endowed. 
 
 She gave in with reserve. She let Aaron un- 
 derstand that he was being considered seriously 
 considered ; that he might, in fact, presume to claim 
 the perquisites of an engaged man. But she suc- 
 ceeded admirably in holding the deliriously happy 
 man at sufficient distance to keep him in constant 
 terror of losing her. 
 
 lone was a new type to him. She was a girl 
 whom the white folks instinctively and universally 
 liked. She was quiet and not at all inclined to 
 flamboyancy. The coloured folks kow-towed. to her 
 poise and ungrudgingly made a place for her on the 
 topmost social stratum. She had never been
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 163 
 
 deluged with masculine matrimonial attention, and 
 it was her frank disbelief in her own colossal luck 
 which kept her head on her shoulders until she 
 had Aaron hooked and landed high and dry. And 
 wiggling. 
 
 During the first week of his cyclonic courtship 
 Aaron Segar struggled heroically to keep from her 
 ears any morsel of gossip pertaining to his relations 
 with the four amorous kitchen empresses at the 
 Glen Ridge apartments. And then because there 
 was something about her that Oh! well, you 
 know, a feller jes' cain't help talkin' he himself 
 told her! 
 
 She listened attentively and with his final ab- 
 jectly despairing words disengaged the hand he 
 had been clutching. 
 
 " Now, honey . . ." he pleaded. 
 
 " How I to know I am' jes' the fif , Aaron? " 
 
 " You is the fust." 
 
 " Bein' engage' is a kind of a habit what you is 
 got, ain't it? " 
 
 " 'Tis now, sweetness. Befo', 'twas jes' a acci- 
 dent." 
 
 " Nev' heard of fo' things happenin' jes' so acci- 
 dental." 
 
 " Did with me, hon ! Them they wimmin jes' 
 woul'n't lemme 'lone." 
 
 " Huh ! They sho' Lawd must've been hahd up 
 fo' a man." 
 
 " Tha's right, sweetness ; that shuah is right. 
 They must of been pow'ful hahd up fo' a man." 
 
 The completeness of his abnegation curbed her 
 sarcasm. She was really sorry for Aaron and gen- 
 uinely jealous on her own account for she admitted
 
 
 164 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 to herself what she was wise enough to keep from 
 Aaron she fairly worshipped him and above all 
 else in the world she desired to become Mrs. Aaron 
 Segar. She wanted Aaron, but she wanted him 
 free of encumbrances or prior lien. Furthermore 
 she had no intentions of 'lowin' no fo' brown hus- 
 sies to make fumadiddles with the man what she 
 was 'gage' to! All of which she confided in her- 
 self. To Aaron she merely presented a terse ulti- 
 matum. 
 
 " I ain't gwine live in the Glen Ridge pahtments, 
 Aaron, twell them wimmin is went." 
 
 " You sho' ain't ! " he echoed with vast sincerity. 
 
 " So what you is got to do befo' you make any 
 mo' marriage talk with me is to git them away 
 fum there." 
 
 " Huh ! Whyn't you tell me to do sumpin' easy 
 like to buy a limmysine or sumthin' ? " 
 
 " Guess if n you was much anxious to marry me, 
 Aaron, you'd git rid of them wimmin pretty quick. 
 Once they gits away fum there they ain't gwine 
 bother you no mo'." 
 
 " I wants to git rid of them, hon. But how I is 
 gwine do it? " 
 
 " Ain't they a old sayin', Aaron, 'bout true love 
 knows how things is done? " 
 
 Aaron scratched his head. " Reckon they is, 
 sweetness. An' I sho' is got the truest love. 
 P'raps " Suddenly he smiled. " If 'n I was to 
 git a good idee, lone, reckon you'd help me out? " 
 
 She nodded. " Yep, Aaron : reckon I would." 
 
 "Then heah yo' chancst is, honey. Lis'en at 
 what I got to seggest." 
 
 She listened.
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 165 
 
 Ella Dungee descended from apartment 6 of the 
 Glen Ridge to the back court where for five min- 
 utes she sought Aaron Segar. Failing to discover 
 him she made her disgruntled way to the street. 
 Once she had completely departed Aaron detached 
 himself from the shadows of the section B stairway 
 and mounted to apartment 6 where he presented 
 himself, hat in hand, to Mrs. Jacob Hammond. 
 
 " Mawnin', Mis' Hammond." 
 
 " Good morning, Aaron." 
 
 " I brung up some of that roach powder. Beg- 
 gin' yo' pahdon, Mis' Hammond " as he cast a 
 critical eye about the kitchen, " but the tenints 
 is all 'cusin' the roaches of stahtin' heah on 'count 
 'count " he paused discreetly. 
 
 " On account of what? " 
 
 " On 'count Ella don't keep the kitchen so awful 
 clean. Scusin' me sayin' that, Mis' Hammond 
 'tain't meant fo' no 'flection on you, but " 
 
 " What you say is all true, Aaron. For the past 
 two or three weeks Ella has been a changed girl. 
 I don't understand her at all. I'm not admitting 
 it outside, but she has grown lazy and shiftless and 
 indifferent and of recent weeks she has kept my 
 kitchen looking like a pigpen." 
 
 " Yassum she do that, sho' nuff, Mis' Ham- 
 mond. I'se a clean man myse'f an' I loves clean- 
 ity, an' I says to myse'f Ella ain't the good cleaner 
 what she useter be. Tha's what troubles all these 
 heah se'vants, Mis' Hammond: they ain't know 
 how to 'preciate a good job with quality folks like 
 what you an' Mistuh Hammond is. Come they to 
 git use' to it an' they c'mences stayin' home or else 
 they gits lazy an' shif 'less "
 
 166 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " And Ella isn't the only one," said Mrs. Ham- 
 mond wrathily. " Mrs. Gray's Fashion and Mrs. 
 Connor's Mallissie " 
 
 "Hmph!" disdainfully. " M'lissie is got the 
 stayin' home fever, sho' nuff, Mis' Hammond. I 
 kep' a-tellin' her an' a-tellin' her she di'n't 'pre- 
 ciate a nice place like what she had with Mis' Con- 
 nor, but shucks! she ain't no dif'ent fum these 
 other new-f angle' coloured gals none of 'em ain't 
 know when they is got sumthin' good." 
 
 " But what can we do about it? " exclaimed 
 the good lady hopelessly. " We must have serv- 
 ants." 
 
 " Tha's so, Mis' Hammond : that shuah is so. 
 Mis' Connor been make that ve'y indentital remark 
 this mawnin' w'en I tell her that M'lissie warn't 
 no mo' sick yestiddy than whut I is now. She 
 say jes' like what you said: 'I got to have a 
 gal,' she say. Tha's how come I to git her Lily 
 Belle." 
 
 " You obtained a new servant for Mrs. Connor? " 
 
 " Yassum, on 'count M'lissie was gittin' so wuth- 
 less." 
 
 Mrs. Hammond wrung her hands. " If you 
 knew of a competent servant, Aaron, why didn't 
 you tell me? If I could only get the right sort of 
 a girl I wouldn't stand Ella another day." 
 
 Aaron's face brightened perceptibly. " They's 
 Lily Belle's sister, now " 
 
 " Lily Belle has a sister? " 
 
 " Yassum an' seein' Lily Belle is mebbe gwine 
 wuk fo' Mis' Connor, I been thinkin' Sarah might 
 like to wuk heah. Co'se Sarah's a better gal'n 
 what Lily Belle is "
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 167 
 
 "What is she like, Aaron. Tell me all about 
 her please ! " 
 
 "Huh! I been knowin' Lily Belle an' Sarah 
 sencst they was knee-high to a pair of ducks, Mis' 
 Hammond. They ain't nuthin' tall like the niggers 
 what clutters up these heah kitchens. Ain't 
 nuthin' fancy 'bout 'em an' they ain't got the haids 
 all full up of sassiety. Both them gals is the best 
 cooks whut is: waffles whut melts in yo' mouf an' 
 broilin' steaks so's they's all charred on the yout- 
 side an' rare in the middle. An' they's the clean- 
 est gals whut is. They even keeps they own rooms 
 clean, Mis' Hammond, an' w'en a coloured gal 
 keeps her own rooms clean, she is some cleanin' gal 
 an' tha's the truth. Ain't neither of 'em no flossy 
 dressers but they's pow'ful neat an' tidy, an' 
 nuther thing they gits to wuk early! " 
 
 " There isn't a day of the past two weeks that 
 Ella has gotten here before twenty minutes to 
 eight." 
 
 "Law', Mis' Hammond Sarah an' Lily Belle 
 ain't know whut 'tis to git to no place of wuk 
 later'n six-thutty. Las' lady Sarah wuk fo' useter 
 tell me that when she'n her husband come out to 
 breakfus' eight o'clock all the house'd be cleaned 
 up an' breakfus' on table an' a fancy salid made 
 fo' lunch. But I'se tellin' you right now, fair an' 
 hones', Mis' Hammond Sarah ain't gwine wuk 
 fo' no th'ee-fifty a week less'n it's gwine be a pum- 
 manent place." 
 
 Mrs. Jacob Hammond sighed. A nonpareil a 
 quiet, efficient servant who wanted a permanent 
 place ! "I I didn't know there were any serv- 
 ants like that any more, Aaron."
 
 168 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "They ain't, Mis' Hammond on'y Lily Belle 
 an' Sarah. Beckon you'd like to make talk with 
 Sarah?" 
 
 " I certainly would. And you may tell her in 
 advance, Aaron, that if I like her appearance I will 
 start her in at four dollars a week with every 
 Sunday afternoon off. When can I see her? " 
 
 " I'se gwine bring Lily Belle 'roun' heah at seven 
 o'clock t'night, Mis' Hammond so's she c'n make 
 talk with Mis' Connor. I cou'd bring Sarah then." 
 
 " Please do." 
 
 Aaron grew cautious. "You sho' Ella's gwine 
 be gone by that time? Bein' janitor heah I cain't 
 'ford to have these heah cooks knowin' I been but- 
 tin' on they business. Woul'n't do it nohow on'y 
 I think so much of you an' Mistuh Hammond." 
 
 " I understand, Aaron and I appreciate your 
 interest tremendously. Here's fifty cents for you. 
 I just simply can't tell you how grateful I am " 
 
 "Tha's all right, Mis' Hammond. Nev' min' 
 'bout that fo' bits." 
 
 " But you must take it." 
 
 He fingered the coin affectionately. "No'm 
 I feel like it'd be an intrusion." 
 
 " You really must take that money, Aaron. This 
 servant question is such a problem " 
 
 " Yassum," rejoined Aaron fervently, as he 
 dropped the coin into his pocket, " yo' sho' said 
 sumthin' that time, Mis' Hammond." 
 
 He was whistling as he made his way down- 
 stairs. He was humming happily at eight-thirty 
 that night as he sat in the street car with lone 
 Drought en route for Champion Moving Picture 
 Theatre Number 2. And just about that time Mrs.
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 169 
 
 Jacob Hammond dropped in informally on Mrs. 
 Percival Connor. Both good ladies were all of a 
 flutter. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Connor I have just engaged 
 a treasure : a veritable treasure ! " 
 
 Mrs. Connor smiled. " Aaron was telling me all 
 about it. I have engaged Lily Belle at four dollars 
 a week. She offered to start in at three-fifty, 
 but" 
 
 " I'm starting Sarah at the same wages. I 
 haven't felt so relieved and happy over the servant 
 question in all my married life. I don't know if 
 Lily Belle is anything like her sister, but if she is, 
 she looks like a perfect gem." 
 
 "And she talks so intelligently. None of the 
 society airs which irritate me so. She agreed to 
 come Monday morning and Aaron vouched for her 
 appearance promptly at six-thirty." 
 
 " Sarah starts in with me Monday morning, too. 
 I'm going to discharge Ella Sunday afternoon when 
 I pay her off." 
 
 " I shall do the same thing with Mallissie. I feel 
 that we are very fortunate, my dear." 
 
 " We are. And we mustn't forget to be grateful 
 to Aaron for our good luck." 
 
 The following morning Aaron Segar entered the 
 kitchen of Mrs. Charles Gray. He was patently 
 perturbed. " Mis' Gray I b'lieves in a man doin' 
 his duty." 
 
 "Yes, Aaron, so do I. What is the trouble 
 now? " 
 
 " Ain't nothin' the trouble now, Mis' Gray. On'y 
 if n them chillun of your'n had of been killed by 
 that truck they'd of been trouble a-plenty."
 
 170 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Mrs. Gray stiffened. She clutched weakly at the 
 edge of the kitchen table. " What are you talking 
 about, Aaron? " 
 
 " 'Bout what happen jes' now down to Five 
 Points. I been comin' 'crost the circle fum the 
 grocer-shop an' a big ol' truck been takin' the curve 
 at about thutty mile an hour. An' who should 
 I see rompin' right 'crost the middle of that street 
 but yo' two chill un ! " 
 
 "My God! Aaron" 
 
 "'Tain't nothin' to worry 'bout, Mis' Gray. I 
 grab 'em an' pull 'em back befo' the truck done 
 hit 'em. On'y it kind of made me mad, 'cause if n 
 that Fashi'n Wilson had of been watchin' them 
 'stead of makin' monkey eyes with ol' Florian Slap- 
 pey who was loafin' 'roun' there, then mebbe you 
 woulVt of almos' had no chillun lef a tall." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me, Aaron, that Fashion 
 allowed those two little darlings to walk alone into 
 the middle of the street? Is that what you mean, 
 Aaron? " 
 
 " 'Tain't none of my business, Mis' Gray. . . ." 
 
 " It is your business, Aaron. Human life is 
 everybody's business. I've suspected for some time 
 that Fashion is very derelict in the way she looks 
 after the children. Why, do you know, Aaron, 
 that sometimes they come home actually bruised 
 and scratched where they have fallen down?" 
 
 " Tchk! Sho' nuff , now, Mis' Gray ! " 
 
 " That really is so. Fashion is hopeless." 
 
 " She ain't no wuss'n all the other city nu'ses, 
 Mis' Gray," defended Aaron stoutly. " All of 'em 
 lets the chillun run wild. It's a Gawd's mercy
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 171 
 
 they ain't kilt ev'y day. 'Co'se maybe Fashi'n is 
 a li'l mite mo' careless'n them other nu'ses, 'cause 
 this ain't by no means the fust time I've saw " 
 
 Mrs. Gray collapsed limply. " I simply cannot 
 tell you how much I appreciate this, Aaron." 
 
 " Tha's all right, Mis' Gray. 'Co'se I'd be 'bliged 
 if'n you woul'n't mention to Fashi'n was me that 
 tol' you " 
 
 " I won't, Aaron ; I won't. But what am I to 
 do? I'm not a strong woman, Aaron, and I can't 
 run this apartment and take care of those two 
 children alone." 
 
 " Guess they ain't nothin' you c'n do, Mis' Gray. 
 Less'n you could git hoi' of a gal like Pansy." 
 
 " Who is Pansy? " 
 
 " Gal I been knowin' fo' yeahs. She ain't high- 
 falutin' like Fashi'n an' these other gals 'roun' the 
 Glen Ridge. She's a Georgy nigger. Las' job she 
 had was fo' a lady what had a 'pahtment one room 
 bigger'n what you is got an' th'ee chillun. 
 Pansy useter do all the cookin' an' the housewuk 
 an' take care of the two oldest chilluns fo' brawtus 
 an' she useter say to me : ' Aaron, the wuk heah 
 is so easy I kinder hates to take my week's wages.' 
 Yassum, tha's 'zactly what she useter say, Mis' 
 Gray." 
 
 "Where where is Pansy now?" 
 
 " Bight heah in town, Mis' Gray. She's kind of 
 lookin' fo' a pummanent job.' 
 
 "Aaron!" 
 
 A few minutes later Aaron descended the steps, 
 wealthier by a dollar. " Yassum," he called back 
 cheerily, " I'll bring Pansy heah t'night shuah at
 
 172 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 seven-thutty after Fashi'n is gone. An' if n you 
 like her I reckon she c'n come to wuk Monday 
 mawnin'." 
 
 Before he reached the basement he was inter- 
 cepted by Mrs. Franklin Carruthers, who sum- 
 moned him to apartment 17. "Aaron, did you 
 succeed in seeing Mary? " 
 
 " Yassum, I seen Mary, sho' nuff." 
 
 " Did she have a place? " 
 
 " No'm, she ain't had no place. Course'n she 
 had offers, but Mary's right 'tic'lar an' she wants 
 a pummanent place." 
 
 "Do you think she'll work for me, Aaron? Do 
 you really?" 
 
 " Sho' does, Mis' C'ruthers. I does, sho' nuff 
 an' that ain't no lie. Mary most'n always goes by 
 my adwice. She says she'll be heah t'night at eight 
 o'clock sha'p soon's she's sho' Gussie Muck is 
 gone. An' then if you likes her you c'n let Gussie 
 go when you pays her off on Sunday an' Mary'll be 
 heah Monday mawnin' sha'p at six-thutty." 
 
 " I'm so grateful to you, Aaron. I'll confess to 
 you that Gussie was getting positively unbearable. 
 I didn't see how I could continue to put up with 
 her, but in these days of servant famine I couldn't 
 see my way clear to letting her go. You, Aaron, 
 have been my Aladdin." 
 
 " Yassum, I sho' have. You done said it that 
 time. An' I understand jes' how you feel. Gussie 
 Muck is one mo' wuthless gal. But Mary ! Hones', 
 Mis' C'ruthers, that gal'd ruther cook an' clean 
 house than eat, an' that sho' is the truth. Yassum 
 jes' sho's my name's Aaron Segar ! "
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 173 
 
 On Sunday afternoon the Mesdames Carruthers, 
 Connor, Gray and Hammond discharged the four 
 fiances of Aaron Segar. On Sunday night the four 
 worthy ladies retired early that Monday morning 
 might sooner arrive. They were bulwarked behind 
 the happy thought that this glorious Monday morn- 
 ing was to bring to each of them a servant who 
 desired nothing so much as hard and permanent 
 work. 
 
 Early Monday morning the Mesdames Carruth- 
 ers, Connor, Gray and Hammond opened their eyes 
 upon a sky of gray overcast with low-hanging, 
 swiftly-scudding clouds. Each became aware of a 
 void. Mrs. Charles Gray was first in action. Her 
 two children were yelling lustily for the dear de- 
 parted Fashion. 
 
 Aaron Segar was summoned to the kitchen of 
 each of the four ladies in turn. To each he made 
 the same shocked speech 
 
 "I 'clare to goodness gracious if'n that gal 
 don't beat all creation. Spec' they ain't no gals 
 you c'n trus'. Take my oaf I'd of swore she'd be 
 heah this mawnin' fust crack of day. I'se mighty 
 sorry 'cause tha's what makes white folks look 
 down on us coloured people w'en we treats you -all 
 like that. Downright shame tha's what I calls 
 it." 
 
 To each he gave a solemn promise to search for 
 the delinquent treasure; to each he reported two 
 hours later that she was not to be found. Where- 
 upon four highly-nervous and thoroughly disgrun- 
 tled ladies entered four automobiles and placatingly 
 sought four discharged servants only to discover
 
 174 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 that they had obtained overnight easier positions 
 at greater wages. 
 
 That day and the next and the next there was a 
 pall of gloom over apartments six, nine, fourteen 
 and seventeen. They didn't blame Aaron. In fact, 
 they were sorry for him, he was so evidently cut up 
 over the defection of his four servants. He railed 
 against the quartet in particular and the genus 
 housegirl in general. 
 
 But in the privacy of his basement apartment 
 there was no hint of gloom. By some miracle it 
 had worked. Gussie and Mallissie and Fashion 
 and Ella had departed for sections of the city un- 
 known. Small likelihood that they would bother 
 him further now that the dangerous element of 
 propinquity had been removed. He was by nature 
 sufficiently insouciant to worry over the troubles 
 of the immediate present only. Once again life 
 had taken unto itself a roseate hue : a hue which it 
 retained until Thursday afternoon. 
 
 On Thursday afternoon Aaron Segar, elegantly 
 groomed, paraded proudly up Highland Avenue 
 with the beloved lone on his arm. He had eyes for 
 nothing save her radiance and her orbs were mod- 
 estly downcast which is why neither of them had 
 an opportunity to dodge Mrs. Jacob Hammond who 
 veered around the corner of Arlington Avenue and 
 clutched lone by the arm. 
 
 " Sarah ! " cried Mrs. Hammond. 
 
 " Y-y-yassum ! " gasped lone. 
 
 "Where in the world have you been? Why 
 didn't you come to work Monday? " 
 
 "I I been sick," faltered lone. Aaron rallied 
 loquaciously to her support.
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 175 
 
 "Yassum she been sick, sho' nuff. Jes' met 
 her, I did, an' I was givin' her a talkin'-to on ac- 
 count she didn't show up fo' wuk like she says she 
 was gwine do, an' she tell me she been sick. If n 
 you don' b'lieve it you c'n call Florian Slappey, 
 sec'terry of The Sons & Daughters of I Will Arise, 
 an' he'll tell you she's been gittin' her sick beny- 
 fit." It was a glorious bluff, but it worked. Mrs. 
 Hammond did not know that coloured insurance 
 fraternities pay no benefits for illnesses lasting less 
 than one week. 
 
 " But you are well now, aren't you, Sarah? " 
 
 " Yassum, I'se well now," answered lone eagerly. 
 " Well's I ev' was." 
 
 " And you still want the place? " 
 
 " If it's pummanent, Mis' Hammond. I was 
 gwine to see you 'bout it this evenin'. . . ." 
 
 " It's permanent," wheedled Mrs. Hammond pa- 
 thetically. " The position is yours for ever if you 
 want it. Please don't disappoint me again. May 
 I count on you for tomorrow morning? " 
 
 " You sho' c'n. . . ." 
 
 Aaron gave a sudden gasp He clutched lone's 
 wrist. His eyes opened until it seemed that they 
 must pop from the sockets. Small beads of cold 
 perspiration stood out on his brow. But he was 
 too late. The little car pulled up at the curb and 
 the Mesdames Franklin Carruthers and Percival 
 Connor alighted. Each of them pounced upon the 
 petrified lone 
 
 " Mary ! " cried Mrs. Carruthers. 
 
 " Lily Belle ! " exclaimed Mrs. Connor. 
 
 " Uh-huh . . . yassum . . ." trembled lone weakly. 
 
 " Why didn't you come to work Monday morn-
 
 176 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ing? " chorused the newcomers. lone said noth' 
 ing. Aaron Segar said the same thing. 
 
 " There is some mistake," cut in Mrs. Hammond 
 icily. " Isn't there, Sarah? " 
 
 " Y-y-yassum : they's a mistake." 
 
 " They sho' is I " muttered Aaron to himself. 
 
 " Why do you persist in addressing her as 
 * Sarah'?" interrogated Mrs. Connor frigidly. 
 " Her name is Lily Belle and I hired her to come 
 to work for me Monday morning." 
 
 " But but " groped Mrs. Carruthers blindly, 
 " she agreed to come to work for me Monday morn- 
 ing and she said her name was Mary ! " 
 
 Mrs. Hammond whirled on Aaron. " What is 
 the meaning of this? " she snapped. 
 
 Aaron took one wild glance at the three faces. 
 His knees quaked. His eyes rolled toward lone, 
 girl of his choice. His muscular fingers tightened 
 around her arm and he gave her a violent jerk. 
 Man and woman, they started up Arlington avenue 
 at a pace which should have entitled them to the 
 heel-and-toe championship of the world. 
 
 " S-s-s-see you-all ladies later," chattered Aaron 
 over his shoulder. " We is got to be goin' ! " 
 
 Two blocks farther on they paused and faced one 
 another. Aaron mopped his face with a lavender 
 handkerchief. 
 
 " lone," he proclaimed solemnly, " I is been 
 thinkin'." 
 
 " So is I, Aaron." 
 
 " I is been thinkin', lone, that mebbe it might 
 be po' business takin' you to the Glen Ridge 'paht- 
 ments to live." 
 
 " Reckon 'twould, Aaron."
 
 NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL 177 
 
 "I I so't of favour the idee, hon, that mebbe 
 I'll git me a job out to the Ensley steel mill. They 
 ain't no wimmin out there. I guess that'd be safer 
 fo' a man like what I is." 
 
 " Yes," answered his bride-to-be significantly, " I 
 reckon it would ! "

 
 BACKFIRE
 
 BACKFIRE 
 
 IS repeated myse'f over an' over again enough 
 times a 1 ready," remarked the ebony gentle- 
 man at the head of the battered table, " an' 
 seems like by this time yo'd see they ain't no use 
 argifyin' no further." 
 
 " But I is the big loser," mournfully answered 
 the dandified young negro two stacks of chips re- 
 moved, " an' seems like yo'd ought to stake me some 
 jes' a li'l bit." 
 
 "You ain't in Atlanta, Mistuh Stiggars: this 
 heah place is Anniston, Alabama." 
 
 " Jes' a few dollars ? " 
 
 " Reckon we-all ain't in the cha'ity business, 
 Mistuh Stiggars. If'n you want to stay in this 
 heah game jes' tickle the bank with a li'l coin." 
 
 "Huh! You know well's me that Ise broke. 
 Ain't even one of you gen'lemen gwine len' me five 
 dollars? " 
 
 He glanced appealingly around the crack-topped 
 table. Five stony faces gave wordless answer of 
 negation. " Jes' five dollars? Or fo'? Or th'ee? 
 Ise been sweetenin' ev'y pot " 
 
 " Lis'en heah to whut I is savin', Mistuh Stig- 
 gars: if'n you ain't got no mo' money you is de- 
 layin' the game. I ain't aimin' to keep none of 
 yo' glory fum you. You is contribbited 'bout a 
 hund'ed an' fifty dollars " 
 
 " Hund'ed an' sixty-th'ee, fifty." 
 
 "An' s'far's I know they ain't nobody in this 
 
 181
 
 182 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 heah neighbourhood gwine len' you no money to 
 follow where that is gone at. Yo' credick would 
 be better, Brother Stiggars, if'n you wasn't sech 
 a rotten poker player." 
 
 " I ain't askin' on'y. . . ." 
 
 The local spokesman caught sight of a languid 
 young negro who leaned apathetically against a 
 battered bureau; a young man of superlative ele- 
 gance and conscious ego. From the top of his 
 carefully brushed Velour hat to the tips of his scin- 
 tillating russet shoes, he bespoke affluence and con- 
 temptuous ennui. 
 
 " Over yonder," said the Annistonian, indicating 
 the sartorial triumph by the bureau, " is Mistuh 
 Florian Slappey of Bummin'ham. Brother Slap- 
 pey has mo' money'n he knows what to do with. 
 If n he is foolish 'nough to len' you some . . ." and 
 the speaker shrugged his shoulders to signify that 
 he washed his hands of the affair. 
 
 Selkirk Stiggars shoved his chair back from the 
 table and rose to his six feet of height. In ele- 
 gance of dress he ran Florian a close second. In 
 physique he was an easy first. He towered men- 
 acingly above the patently bored gentleman from 
 Birmingham but in his eyes glowed a light which 
 was unmistakably composed of equal portions of 
 worry and supplication. 
 
 The five other players meticulously piled their 
 chips into stacks of red, white and blue. A stran- 
 ger had knocked upon their gates and they had 
 taken him in good and proper. One hundred 
 and sixty-three dollars and fifty cents of good At- 
 lanta money had enriched the coffers of five Annis- 
 tonians. It had been an epoch-making windfall.
 
 BACKFIRE 183 
 
 An oil lamp on the washstand in the corner sent 
 its weak, flickering light to all corners of the room, 
 playing weirdly on the set faces of Anniston's 
 premier poker players, and causing grotesque shad- 
 ows to dance on the walls. As the stranger rose 
 and approached Florian Slappey they allowed 
 themselves to relax somewhat from the strain of 
 inflated stakes and bloated pots. 
 
 "Mistuh Slappey?" 
 
 Florian's eyes were raised slowly without show 
 of special interest. " Yeh? " 
 
 " My name's Stiggars Selkirk Stiggars of At- 
 lanta. Ise Past Gran' Royal Mona'ch of The To'ch 
 Bearers of Glory, Council Number Thutteen. Is 
 you a member of that lodge? " 
 
 " No," answered Florian wearily, " I ain't." 
 
 " Ise a K. P." 
 
 " I ain't." 
 
 " Sho'ly you an' me is feller Masons? " 
 
 " Nope." 
 
 " I b'longs to the Baptis' chu'ch." 
 
 " Ise a Methodis'." 
 
 The lack of fraternity was appalling. The stran- 
 ger was forced to a new tack. " Is you the Flo'ian 
 Slappey what won twen'y-five hund'ed dollars in 
 the Pool an' Ginuwine lott'ry 'bout six weeks ago? " 
 
 " Ise him," answered Florian with a hint of par- 
 donable hauteur. 
 
 Stiggars' hand caught that of Florian and 
 crushed it. " I is sho' d'lighted to meet up with 
 you, Mistuh Slappey. I sho' is. We is heard 'bout 
 you over to Atlanta." 
 
 "That so?" 
 
 " Co'se! Sech a spoht as you is. . . ." 
 
 .. v " ^1
 
 184 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "We ain't nev' heard of you over to Bummin'- 
 ham." 
 
 Selkirk Stiggars was momentarily nonplussed. 
 Nothing seemed to pique Florian's interest: not 
 even the Open Sesame of flattery. Selkirk made a 
 direct frontal attack. " Ise broke." 
 
 " You sho' ac' thataway." 
 
 " But luck's jes' beginuin' to break my way " 
 
 " Yeh ! I noticed them fo' nines you jes' held 
 'gainst that straight flush." 
 
 " An' if 'n I c'n borry five dollars " 
 
 " My business is real 'state not money lendin'." 
 
 With the dexterity of a master of legerdemain, 
 Mr. Selkirk Stiggars detached from his cerise scarf 
 a veritable headlight. " This heah di'mon', Misto' 
 Slappey, is guaranteed fo'teen carat." 
 
 " Hmph ! Guaranteed by which? " 
 
 " By the jooller which sol' it to me." 
 
 " I ain't even know his name." 
 
 " An' ifn yo'll lemme have fifty dollars on it 
 fo' jes' 'bout twen'y minutes " 
 
 " Haw ! " ejaculated Florian with ponderous 
 irony. " Reckon you thinks I is a Anniston nigger 
 sho' nuff." 
 
 " I'll add this to the s'curity," and Selkirk slipped 
 a twin diamond from a finger of the left hand. 
 
 If Florian was impressed by the glittering bril- 
 liance he gave no sign. He produced a silver- 
 plated cigarette case from his pocket, extracted 
 therefrom a Turkish cigarette which he tapped re- 
 flectively on his fingernail and then lighted with 
 exasperating lack of haste. He inhaled deeply and 
 blew a puff of the fragrant smoke into the face of 
 Mr. Selkirk Stiggars.
 
 BACKFIRE 185 
 
 " Not a thing stirrin'," he responded briefly. 
 
 "Them di'mon's " 
 
 " Nev' did like di'mon's." 
 
 " You ain't 'sinuatin' ? " 
 
 " I ain't 'sinuatin' nothin', 'ceptin' Flo'rian Slap- 
 pey ain't never takes no chancsts." 
 
 Selkirk Stiggars gazed hopelessly about the 
 dingy, dusty room with its battered furniture and 
 its curtains discreetly drawn against the prying 
 eyes of the police. The atmosphere was redolent 
 of the odour of vile cigars, the room clouded with 
 the rancid smoke. One of the fortunate poker 
 players seized the moment to rattle a stack of blue 
 chips. The clicking of what had recently been 
 his money was too much for Selkirk. 
 
 He had driven into Anniston that evening from 
 Atlanta behind the wheel of a handsome limousine ; 
 one hundred and sixty-four dollars in his pockets. 
 Fifty cents had gone for dinner and the balance 
 had been his admission ticket to a poker game. 
 Selkirk had entered that poker game very confident 
 that he would win a comfortable amount, lord it 
 over the provincial darkies for a while and then seek 
 new pastures. And now eleven o'clock had come 
 and he was as clean of money as a fish of legs, his 
 credit rating unknown, his scintillant collateral 
 gazed upon with frank distrust. He was a stran- 
 ger in a strange land. 
 
 Without money he was helpless. So too was the 
 limousine which he had driven royally into Annis- 
 ton, for money means gasoline for the tank and oil 
 for the crank-case, and the automobile was sadly 
 bereft of both. 
 
 The car! The car was worth money, So was
 
 186 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Plorian. He clutched his unwilling benefactor by 
 the shoulder with a grip which caused Florian to 
 wince and shoved him toward the door. " If its 
 jes' s'curity you is after, Mistuh Slappey. . . ." 
 
 " Reckon you ain't got no s'curity I is interest' 
 in." 
 
 "Huh! Guess I is." 
 
 "Whar 'tis?" 
 
 " Outside." 
 
 Florian's eyes narrowed. " Outside? " 
 
 " My automobile ! " 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 " Heah's the how of it, Mistuh Slappey. I done 
 'scovered that these heah small-town niggers don' 
 know nothing 'bout poker. Craps is they game. 
 But poker the reason they is won fum me is 
 'cause I was gittin' onto they system. If'n I gits 
 me another stake I'll clean 'em flat. You c'n see 
 that, sho' it's plain as a nigger in a snowstorm. 
 But I needs that other stake, Brother Slappey, an' 
 I is willin' to take a chancst " 
 
 " I ain't." 
 
 " Nor neither I ain't askin' you to. Seein' as 
 you won't 'cept my di'mon's as s'curity, how 'bout 
 lendin' me five hund'ed on that car? " 
 
 Florian hesitated and was lost. Ever since 
 he had come into possession of twenty-five hundred 
 dollars by a lucky lottery guess he had yearned 
 passionately for an automobile of his very own. 
 But automobiles come high and Florian was fair 
 canny. He wanted the car. . . . 
 
 " Reckon you think I is a millionaire." 
 
 " Five hund'ed "
 
 BACKFIRE 187 
 
 " Is five hund'ed. An' b'sides, I don't carry 
 that much with me usually." 
 
 " How much is you got? " 
 
 Florian shrugged. " Dunno . . . but I'm sho' 
 'tain't more'n two hund'ed." 
 
 The minds of the two men leaped to opposite con- 
 clusions from the one premise. Selkirk Stiggars 
 was a poker egomaniac and was gripped by an 
 overpowering hunch. He knew that with a stake 
 of two hundred dollars he could win back all that 
 he had lost and a good deal more. He wasn't 
 selling the car it would merely become a bail- 
 ment in the hands of Florian Slappey : a pawn for 
 a few hours. 
 
 Florian figured contrariwise. A keen analyst of 
 his fellow-beings he recognized in the egocentric 
 Mr. Stiggars a fully developed individual of the 
 genus sucker. And he knew that if he could se- 
 cure the limousine which he had previously ex- 
 amined very carefully and appraised as worth not 
 a cent less than fifteen hundred dollars for two 
 hundred, it would become his property at that price. 
 
 " Two hund'ed ain't nothin'," sneered Stiggars. 
 
 " You 'spec' to git it back, don't you ? " 
 
 Sho'." 
 
 " You ain't sellin' it to me. What's it matter 
 how much you gits on it if'n you gwine redeem it 
 right back? I take the car an' give you two hun- 
 d'ed. You c'n git that they car back fum me any 
 time befo' seven 'clock tomorrow mawnin' by payin' 
 me two hund'ed an' tweu'y-five dollars cash 
 money." 
 
 They haggled. They argyfied. They finally
 
 188 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 reached a decision Florian's decision. He had 
 been wise enough to discern that all of the aces were 
 in his hand and he played them. He gave Mr. Sel- 
 kirk Stiggars two hundred dollars and directed the 
 attention of the assemblage to the terms of the 
 transaction. The two hundred dollars represented 
 a loan for which the limousine stood unprotestingly 
 as security. The time limit for redeeming the 
 pledge was seven o'clock the following morning. 
 Failure to redeem within the time limit acted as 
 an automatic conveyance in fee simple to Florian 
 Slappey. But before turning back to the poker 
 table, the disgruntled Stiggars, acutely aware of 
 the fact that he was a victim of business acumen 
 and adverse circumstance, transfixed Florian with 
 a stare which caused that gentleman to tremble 
 beneath his silk shirt. 
 
 " 'Member this in yo' haid, Mistuh Slappey Ise 
 a man of my word and you is got to be a man of 
 your'n. If n you sh'd be so unfortinate as to try 
 any fumadiddles with me, jes' don' forgit that I 
 warned you I was plumb bad bad all the way 
 th'ough." 
 
 The ensuing hours proved that he had spoken 
 part truth at least. He was certainly a bad poker 
 player bad all the way through. At three min- 
 utes after seven o'clock in the morning the game 
 disbanded after a heart-breaking hand which 
 started at 6:56 in which Selkirk Stiggars held an 
 ace-high flush against a pat full house kings up. 
 Better men than Stiggars have been fooled into be- 
 lieving a pat full meant a low flush or straight. 
 But none have been fooled more thoroughly from 
 a financial point of view.
 
 BACKFIRE 189 
 
 Florian yawned. He oozed through the door and 
 into the street. He approached the limousine 
 his limousine. He stepped within and tentatively 
 poked the luxurious upholstery. It was the crown- 
 ing touch of affluence. He touched the starter but- 
 ton and the rythmic hum of the motor wafted back 
 to his ears in pleasing symphony. 
 
 On the sidewalk stood Selkirk Stiggars, com- 
 pletely surrounded by the gentlemen who had re- 
 lieved him of his money. Selkirk's cerise necktie 
 was awry, his hat was crushed and shoved back 
 upon his bullet head, there was blood in his eye. 
 The strong breeze of early morning whipped back 
 his coat and Florian caught a disquieting bulge in 
 the right hip pocket. Floriau had a constitutional 
 aversion to hip pockets which bulged, nor did he 
 relish the glare which Selkirk Stiggars furnished 
 gratis. Florian reached a decision. He de- 
 cided to place a maximum of distance between 
 himself and Mr. Stiggars in a minimum of 
 time. 
 
 He waved an insouciant farewell and wisely 
 restrained a gay little pleasantry having to do with 
 Mr. Stiggars' poker-playing abilities. He let in the 
 gears and the car rolled ahead. Something 
 prompted Florian to keep his eyes straight to the 
 front. He mounted a gentle acclivity at high 
 speed and not until he hit the descent on the other 
 side of the ridge was he able to shake himself free 
 from the menace of the Stiggars' stare. 
 
 At a filling station on the outskirts of Anniston 
 he replenished his gas tank and filled his crank 
 case. Then he headed for the open country and 
 let the car out, reclining luxuriously against the
 
 190 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 cushions and revelling in an intoxicating feeling 
 of proprietorship. 
 
 He made the journey from Anniston to Birming- 
 ham in record time. He parked his car at dark- 
 town's civic centre: Eighteenth street, north, be- 
 tween Third and Fourth avenues. He stretched 
 his legs, cut off the ignition and stepped to the 
 sidewalk where he bumped into Pliny Driver 
 melancholy and trusted employe" of the City Ice 
 Company. Pliny inquired quite naturally about 
 the car and Florian answered nonchalantly: 
 " Bought it." 
 
 "Wharat?" 
 
 " Anniston. Off' n a feller name of Stiggars." 
 
 " How much? " 
 
 Florian did not mean to tell an untruth. But 
 sometimes naked truth is entirely too naked. And 
 a few hundred dollars more or less anyway, the 
 words slipped out before he was conscious of them. 
 " Eight hund'ed dollars." 
 
 Pliny's whooshy whistle of undisguised admira- 
 tion amply repaid Florian for the slight exaggera- 
 tion. " You sho' is became one of these heah 
 bloated democrats, Flo'ian." 
 
 " Well," airily, " I ain't nev' yet met myse'f when 
 I was broke." 
 
 Pliny reported Florian's financial flyer to Lawyer 
 Evans Chew and Lawyer Evans Chew told it to 
 Dr. Vivian Simmons, M.D., who maintained a suite 
 of offices on the same floor of the Penny Pruden- 
 tial Bank Building. Dr. Simmons told Clarence 
 Carter and Clarence passed the story on to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Elias Rush. B.y six o'clock that evening all 
 of the members in coloured social circles were in
 
 BACKFIRE 191 
 
 possession of the facts, some of which facts were 
 actually accurate. With a single exception they 
 expressed a unanimity of admiration. 
 
 The exception was Sally Crouch, the voluminous 
 proprietress of the Cozy Home Hotel for Coloured. 
 She shrugged her ample shoulders with sceptical 
 disdain : " Sho', that nigger ain't nev' seed no 
 eight hund'ed dollars! " 
 
 " You is disremember, Sally, that 'tain't so long 
 'go he won twen'y-five hund'ed dollars in the Pool 
 an' Ginuwine lott'ry." 
 
 Sally had not forgotten the episode. She had 
 cause to recall every humiliating detail. Those 
 were the days when Florian had been penniless 
 and had courted Sally Crouch for her money. Luck 
 had broken his way at the eleventh hour and he had 
 turned up missing at his wedding. Sally was the 
 forsaken bride and forsaken brides neither forget 
 nor forgive easily. Said she : " I ain't nev' seed 
 no money 'roun' that they Flo'ian Slappey ! Maybe 
 so it's all right but it sho' sounds fishy to me. 
 Seems like somebody had ought to fin' out the per- 
 tickerlers." 
 
 The story of Sally's plain-spoken doubt was also 
 passed from lip to lip. With embellishments. 
 
 For eight months Florian had held undisputed 
 sway as masculine mentor of the younger social 
 set. His acquisition of the limousine bade fair to 
 make the tenure hereditary. He w r as gloriously 
 generous in his magnificence and many a dusky 
 damsel learned that he could drive with one hand 
 over the roads between Birmingham and its myriad 
 suburbs: Bessemer, Ensley, Woodlawn, Pratt 
 City, East Lake, Fairfield. . . . Each and every
 
 192 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 one of them sought to ensnare him with her fem- 
 inine charms, but Florian was as frank as he was 
 wary. " Me Ise off of women absotively an' on- 
 tirely!" 
 
 Occasionally Florian condescended to collect a 
 few dollars by wildcat taxicab work, thereby court- 
 ing durance vile because of the lack of a commer- 
 cial license. But even with that the car was an 
 expense which Florian could ill afford. Florian's 
 nature, fortunately, was such that worry of the 
 morrow did not often disturb the tranquillity of 
 today. 
 
 Not since the winning of the now famous Florian 
 Slappey Gig in the Genuine lottery paying him 
 twenty-five hundred dollars for the one he had tim- 
 idly invested had Florian been so excruciatingly 
 happy. His bliss was intensive. He received adu- 
 lation and envy in great, luscious gobs. 
 
 But it was too good to last and it didn't. The 
 explosion occurred one Saturday evening while 
 Florian was curled up in the driver's seat of his 
 car, immersed in the column of negro news which 
 appears once a week in The Birmingham Ledger. 
 On the opposite page was a double-column headline 
 and beneath the headline a story of considerable 
 personal interest to Florian. 
 
 GEORGIA CHAUFFEUR IS 
 ROBBED OF HIS CAR BY 
 BANDIT NEAR ANNISTON 
 
 MASKED HIGHWAYMAN SUPPOSED 
 
 TO HAVE BROUGHT CAB TO Bra- 
 
 MINGHAM POLICE ON 
 
 LOOKOUT 
 
 Instinct prompted Florian to a perusal of the
 
 BACKFIRE 193 
 
 story. He waded through the elegant display of 
 adjectivial reportorial imagination 
 
 Held up shortly before reaching Anniston while en route 
 to Birmingham while driving a limousine belonging to Robert 
 J. Barbour of Peachtree street, Atlanta ; Beauregard Tuggle, 
 chauffeur, was robbed of his car and severely beaten in a ter- 
 rific battle. 
 
 Tuggle was driving the car from Atlanta to meet his em- 
 ployer, Mr. Barbour, who arrived in Birmingham recently from 
 Memphis and registered at the Molton Hotel. According to 
 Tuggle's straightforward and graphic story he was held up by 
 a masked bandit shortly before arriving in Anniston, and was 
 relieved of his car and nearly two hundred dollars in cash. 
 After the desperate battle he was left bound and gagged by the 
 roadside. 
 
 The car has a Georgia license, No. 19817(53. A reward of 
 $500 has been offered by Mr. Barbour for tbe return of the car 
 and the capture of the bandit. Both car and bandit are thought 
 to be in or near Birmingham. 
 
 Tbe fight with the bandit was a thrilling one, according to 
 Tuggle's story. He was attacked 
 
 Florian's brow wrinkled in perplexity. He had 
 a haunting idea that all was not as it should be. 
 He became suspicious of the fact that he had been 
 trimmed, that he was a come-on, a receiver of stolen 
 goods that were dangerous to possess. He knew, 
 and yet he verified his knowledge. He alighted 
 and walked to the rear of the car. The figures 
 1981763 blazed up at him mockingly from the li- 
 cense tag. 
 
 He climbed into the car and sank limply into 
 his seat. He understood for the first time why the 
 suave Mr. Selkirk Stiggars had been willing to 
 pledge a fifteen hundred dollar car for a paltry 
 two hundred dollars. He recalled the hard look 
 of Mr. Stiggars' eyes, the belligerent swing to the 
 Stiggars' shoulders. Florian had met more than
 
 194 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 one bad nigger in his time and be now realized that 
 Mr. Stiggars was all of that and more. 
 
 He figured it all out. One, Beauregard Tuggle, 
 had been relieved of Mr. Barbour's car near Annis- 
 ton. The highwayman, under the deceiving name 
 of Selkirk Stiggars, had wormed into a poker game 
 with the money he had taken from the heroic chauf- 
 feur and after losing that, had let his car go for 
 two hundred. That the two hundred had followed 
 the trail blazed by the first hundred and fifty did 
 not particularly interest Florian. 
 
 He writhed as he envisioned the Stiggars chortle 
 of glee in the knowledge that Florian had taken 
 unto himself a property liable to land him in the 
 county jail. He remembered the credence which 
 had been given Sally Crouch's sceptical story. 
 There were folks coloured folks who would 
 rejoice to see him hoist by his own petard. 
 
 He shrugged. He was stung for two hundred 
 dollars. Of course, there was a reward extant 
 a reward of five hundred. Florian wanted that 
 reward. Five hundred dollars would leave a bal- 
 ance on the credit side of the ledger. The trouble 
 was that while he would have little difficulty in 
 returning the car, he fancied that there would be 
 considerable opposition on the part of Mr. Stiggars 
 should he happen to meet him and suggest that Mr. 
 Stiggars submit to arrest. 
 
 A negro boy strolled northward on Eighteenth 
 street, whistling. He paused near Florian's car 
 and Florian fancied that his eyes were focussed on 
 the license number. The boy resumed his walk. 
 The whistling had ceased. Florian experienced a
 
 BACKFIRE 195 
 
 cold chill like the first touch of an annual malarial 
 attack. 
 
 He saw a policeman on the corner, the blue coat 
 as usual unbuttoned. He realized that the 
 policeman at whom he gazed, in common with every 
 other member of the city force, was on the lookout 
 for Georgia license number 1981763. Fear of the 
 police was a novel experience ; a sensation far from 
 pleasant. 
 
 Florian Slappey was worried. He banished all 
 thought of the five hundred dollars reward and be- 
 thought himself ways and means of getting rid of 
 the car. Obviously the first step was 
 
 He was an ingenious man and a man of action. 
 He started up his motor, let in his gears and sped 
 down the alley bisecting the block between Third 
 and Fourth avenues. He emerged on Seventeenth 
 street, turned south and brought his car to a halt 
 near the curb. 
 
 Dusk had merged into night. The arc lamp on 
 the corner spluttered disconsolately. No human 
 was in sight. A South Ensley car shot by the cor- 
 ner, out-bound . . . then all was quiet again. 
 Florian worked swiftly. He raised the seat cush- 
 ion, found a pair of pliers, and within one minute 
 and ten seconds the damning Georgia license had 
 splashed into the sewer. Then, without regard to 
 speed limit, Florian swung into Third avenue and 
 so back to the parking space from which he had 
 started a few minutes earlier. 
 
 He was temporarily relieved, but far from satis- 
 fied. The situation was one requiring expert ad- 
 vice. It presented infinite possibilities both for
 
 196 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 benefit and for harm. Florian did not tarry. He 
 made haste to the offices of Lawyer Evans Chew 
 and ten minutes later the dignified, be-spectacled 
 coloured attorney was in possession of the facts. 
 His first query was disconcerting : " How much 
 you paid for that car, Brother Slappey? " 
 
 " Two hund'ed dollars." 
 
 " You done said eight hund'ed befo'." 
 
 Florian made an impatient gesture. " Co'se I 
 did. What you 'spec' me to say? Might's well 
 make 'em believe a plen'y. But I ain't come up 
 heah to make talk 'bout whether I 'zaggerated on 
 the price. I wants yo' legal 'pinion." 
 
 Lawyer Chew stared ominously at his vis-a-vis. 
 " Brother Slappey you is shuah in bad." 
 
 " Hmph ! Guess I don' need no lawyer to tell 
 me that." 
 
 " They is grave danger that you have hopelessly 
 'criminated yo'se'f both by telling an untruth re- 
 geardin' the original purchase price an' also like- 
 wise by th'owing away the Geo'gia license tag. De- 
 struction of 'criminating evidence, Brother Slap- 
 pey, has been held by all the Co'ts of the land to 
 be constructive evidence of guilty knowledge." 
 
 " I is got the guilty knowledge all right, Lawyer 
 Chew. So's all the p'lice in Birmin'ham. Ques- 
 tion is: what is I to do?" 
 
 Lawyer Chew rose and approached his dusty 
 bookshelves. He solemnly and absorbedly con- 
 sulted a musty legal tome which Florian was for- 
 tunately unaware bore the title " Pomeroy's Equity 
 Jurisprudence." Finally Chew delivered his de- 
 cision. 
 
 " You is got to get rid of that automobile ! "
 
 BACKFIRE 197 
 
 " Pshaw ! Is you had to do all that studyin' to 
 tell me that? " 
 
 "I never risk giving advice," retorted the law- 
 yer with dignity, " until I have reinforced myse'f 
 with a p'rusal of the latest dicta an' decision." 
 
 Florian scratched his head. Lawyer Chew was 
 too vague and impersonal for him. " All right," 
 he said at length, " Ise got to git rid of the car. 
 Now s'pose you read some mo' out of that they book 
 an' tell me how I is to do it." 
 
 " You stands in the lights of a receiver of stolen 
 propitty," intoned Chew, " an' as such you ain't got 
 any right to keep it." 
 
 " Golly ! We is been agree' on that fo' a half 
 hour." 
 
 " The title of the man from which you bought 
 the car was a bad title in the eyes of the law an' 
 the fac' that you is an innocent thi'd pa'ty don' do 
 you no good where the true owner is conce'ned at." 
 Lawyer Chew believed in handing out a surfeit 
 of undigestible legal axioms in return for a 
 fee. 
 
 " 'Bout that rewa'd, though ? " 
 
 "Ah! The rewa'd! O'dna'ily I'd say you 
 should see Mr. Barbour of Atlanta the on'y hitch 
 thereto bein' that he's li'ble to think you is in ca- 
 hoots with the highwayman." 
 
 " The feller what heP up his shofifer? " 
 
 " Yes. 'Course we mought go up to the Molton 
 an' take a chancst " 
 
 " Of gittin' 'rested? " 
 
 " They's a chance, of course. But, on the other 
 hand, they is the pos'bility that you will git back 
 yo' two hund'ed an' maybe th'ee hund'ed dollars
 
 198 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 mo'. An' as we are 'greed that the car must be 
 returned " 
 
 Florian rose resignedly. " You go with me? " 
 
 " As yo' lawyer. . . ." 
 
 " Keckon I need you? " 
 
 " Reckon you do, Flo'ian. You is li'ble to tell 
 too much truth ! " 
 
 Within a half hour the two nervous negroes were 
 at the Molton Hotel and the clerk had notified 
 Mr. Barbour that two coloured men wished an inter- 
 view with him regarding the missing automobile. 
 They were sent up to his room and found them- 
 selves a bit reassured as they gazed into the quiz- 
 zical grey eyes of an overlarge man whom they in- 
 stinctively recognized as a Southerner born and 
 bred. " Thank Gawd ! " muttered the attorney to 
 himself, " that he ain't no Yankee." 
 
 " What do you boys know about my car? " quer- 
 ied Barbour. 
 
 "A heap, Mr. Barbour," came Chew's ready an- 
 swer. " Thisyer is Flo'ian Slappey; a chu'ch man 
 an' one of the mos' respective citizens of our col- 
 oured c'mmunity." 
 
 " I shuah is," echoed Florian. 
 
 Barbour smiled genially. "And you?" 
 
 " Evans Chew, suh : an attorney licensed to prac- 
 tice befo' all the Co'ts of the sove'eign State of 
 Alabama. Flo'ian has became my client in this 
 matter under c'nsideration." 
 
 " I see. And your friend Florian is the man who 
 knows all about my automobile? " 
 
 "Perzac'ly. In brief, Misto' Barbour, Flo'ian 
 has yo' limmysine." 
 
 " Where is it? "
 
 BACKFIRE 199 
 
 "Downstairs on the Fif avenue side. I wants 
 you to un'erstan', Mr. Barbour, that Flo'ian is an 
 hones' man an' when he read in the Ledger 'bout 
 the five hund'ed dollars rewa'd, he was all fo' re- 
 tu'nin' it to you an' nev' sayin' nothin' 'bout being 
 paid fo' his honesty. But I says to him, I says: 
 1 Brother Slappey I got a hunch Mr. Barbour is 
 a lib'al man an' he'd sho' pay you the five hund'ed 
 dollars reward if n he knew you had been stung.' " 
 
 " Stung? " 
 
 " Yassuh. You see, suh, 'tis thisaway : Flo'ian 
 was umfortunate enough to buy yo' car fum the 
 highwayman what stold it fum yo' shoff er ! " 
 
 " A-a-ah ! Suppose you sit down and tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 Lawyer Chew started the story. Florian in- 
 terrupted. Chew resumed. Florian interrupted 
 again fearful that some vital detail tending to- 
 ward the eventual return of his two hundred dol- 
 lars might be omitted. And finally the harassed 
 attorney with his ponderous phraseology threw up 
 his hands : " If n you think you can tell it better'n 
 me, Flo'ian go ahead." 
 
 Florian may not have told it better but he 
 certainly told more of it. His recital became an 
 impassioned plea for the reimbursement of his two 
 hundred dollars. He supplied details which the 
 lawyer had never heard. He even insisted that he 
 had known all along that something was wrong 
 and that out of the natural honesty of his nature 
 he had risked his two hundred dollars in the altru- 
 istic attempt to return the car to its rightful owner. 
 
 Robert J. Barbour of Peachtree street, Atlanta, 
 listened with quiet, unsmiling amusement. He
 
 200 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 had lived his life in contact with the society city 
 negroes of the south and he knew them and their 
 eccentricities. Therefore, he knew exactly what 
 portions of Florian's story to accept and what to 
 reject. When the tale was finished he delivered his 
 verdict. 
 
 " I believe you paid the two hundred dollars for 
 the car, Florian and I'll make it up to you if I 
 find the car in good condition. As for the other 
 three hundred you can have that when you find 
 the highwayman and deliver him over to me. Un- 
 der the terms of my offer I am not bound to pay 
 you a cent but I'm not anxious to see you lose 
 two hundred dollars through me." 
 
 Florian exhaled a sigh of infinite relief. He es- 
 corted Mr. Barbour to the Fifth avenue side of the 
 hotel and a half-hour spin over the Norwood Boule- 
 vard convinced Mr. Barbour that the car was in 
 exceptionally good trim. Whereupon the two hun- 
 dred dollars which Florian had originally paid out 
 was returned to him in full, with the doubtful prom- 
 ise of the additional three hundred in the event of 
 the capture of the bandit. 
 
 The two negroes walked down Twentieth street 
 together. " My fee," suggested Lawyer Chew deli- 
 cately, " is ten dollars." 
 
 "Whut? Tendolla's?" 
 
 " You heard me, Flo'ian." 
 
 " Fo' a half hour's wuk? " 
 
 " Perfessional services." 
 
 "Huh! Graft!" 
 
 " I have earned it, and I must insist " 
 
 Florian sadly delivered over two five-dollar bills. 
 "W'en a lawyer says he's got to insist on bavin'
 
 BACKFIRE 201 
 
 money, Brother Chew I got more sense'n to think 
 I c'n git out of payin' it." 
 
 " Thank you." Chew pocketed the bills. " And 
 at any future time you require my services : if you 
 meet Selkirk Stiggars, for example " 
 
 " I'll need you then to 'fend me fum a cha'ge of 
 manslaughter," snapped Florian venomously. 
 
 Florian's psychic condition regarding a meeting 
 with Mr. Selkirk Stiggars, bandit, were an admix- 
 ture of boundless hope and abiding fear. Should 
 he meet Mr. Stiggars and be able to hold him until 
 the iron fingers of the law could grasp the Stiggars 
 windpipe, he would be richer by three hundred 
 dollars and a big winner on the deal even count- 
 ing the cost of upkeep. 
 
 Three hundred dollars was three hundred dol- 
 lars ; but, reflected the perturbed Florian Mr. 
 Stiggars was Mr. Stiggars. He fancied that Mr. 
 Stiggars might register somewhat too strenuous 
 objections should he undertake to hand him over 
 to the police. To Florian's knowledge road-agents 
 had a congenital antipathy to jails. Besides, Flo- 
 rian was far from sure that he was physically able 
 to detain Mr. Stiggars, even should he care to make 
 the attempt. He envisioned the colossal bulk of 
 Mr. Stiggars and the baleful glare of the blood- 
 shot Stiggars' eyes. Florian thought Stiggars and 
 then he thought three hundred dollars. He 
 couldn't decide. He had a hunch that he was des- 
 tined to meet Mr. Stiggars before the passing of 
 very many days 
 
 He did. It happened Monday night while Flo- 
 rian was en "route afoot to escort Miss Gussie 
 Muck to the movies. A heavy hand fell positively
 
 202 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 upon Florian's shoulder and a shadow bulked omi- 
 nously behind him. 
 
 " Mistuh Slappey ! " 
 
 Florian knew the voice. He had heard it rum- 
 ble from behind a dwindling stack of chips 
 " Raise you five dollars. . . ." He was face to face 
 with the practical necessity for the decision at 
 which he had been unable to arrive in theory. The 
 situation was, to say the least, annoying. 
 
 " Mistuh Slappey ! " 
 
 Florian accelerated. " Ise busy " 
 
 "Sa-a-ay! Lis'en heah. . . ." 
 
 He listened. Something in the other's nuance 
 informed him that listening was strictly in order. 
 He turned. His face broke into a warm, friendly, 
 welcoming smile and his right hand came out in 
 effusive greeting. " I'm dawg'd if'n tain't Mistuh 
 Stiggars ! " 
 
 " That's which," came the unsmiling retort. 
 
 " How you is, Brother Stiggars? " 
 
 " Tol'able. I wants to make talk with you." 
 
 " Tomorrow mawnin' at nine 'clock " 
 
 " T'night. Now." 
 
 " You got to excuse me, Brother Stiggars, 'cause 
 I is got a pressin' 'gagement with a lady." 
 
 " You is got a 'gagement with me immedjit." 
 
 " But, Brother Stiggars " 
 
 " An' if'n you don' keep it chancsts is you won't 
 nev' have no mo' 'gagement a tall." 
 
 " You don' understan'. . . ." 
 
 " Reckon I does. You c'mon ! " 
 
 Florian parleyed. He looked Mr. Stiggars over 
 and found his demeanour anything but reassuring. 
 He thought of the chauffeur who had been beaten
 
 BACKFIRE 203 
 
 and bound and gagged. . . . Florian had no desire 
 to accompany Mr. Stiggars into a dark alley. He 
 had a premonition that it might not be beneficial 
 to his health. " Reckon we c'n make discussion 
 right heah, Mistuh Stiggars." 
 
 The big negro shrugged. The bad light was in 
 his eyes. The bulge was evident in the right hip 
 pocket. His opening shaft was a bit paralysing 
 " You done me out of my car over to Anniston 
 las' week, Mistuh Slappey." 
 
 " 'Twas business " 
 
 " I ain't gwine make no talk with you 'bout the 
 how-comes. What I is after is I wants my car 
 back!" 
 
 " Oh ! " Florian subsided suddenly. The bandit 
 wanted the car and the car was gone. Florian's 
 last chance to placate his unwelcome companion 
 had departed. " Y-y-you do? " 
 
 " I shuah does. An' I got money r'il money. 
 I wanna buy it." 
 
 Florian waxed suspicious. " Whar you git that 
 money at? " 
 
 " Over to the Pool an' Ginuwine lott'ry. I bet 
 th'ee dollars on the Washerwoman's gig an' out she 
 come. I got six hund'ed dollars cash money." 
 
 " Fo' 'leven fo'ty-fo'," breathed Florian. 
 Stiggars' statement rang true. Florian had that 
 day heard of a stranger who had cleaned up six 
 hundred dollars on the Washerwoman's gig. 
 " Well? " he questioned. 
 
 " I on'y owes you two hund'ed an' twen'y-five dol- 
 lars, Mistuh Slappey but I is a hones' man an' I 
 is ready to pay you two hund'ed an' fifty. I wants 
 that car an' I wants it now, an' I'm adwisin' you
 
 204 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 not to make no talk about you done sol' that car 
 because if you have, Mistuh Slappey they's li'ble 
 to be action 'roun' heah an' you an' me will know 
 all 'bout it." 
 
 " But s'pose " 
 
 "I ain't keen on s'posin'. Wen Selkirk Stig- 
 gars wants sumthin' he mos' usually gits it. On'er- 
 stan'?" 
 
 Florian nodded. " I sho' does, Brother Stiggars. 
 B'lieve me I sho' does." 
 
 "Whar that car is at?" 
 
 The proposition was put squarely up to Florian. 
 The decision had been forced upon him. He faced 
 the disquieting necessity of trapping Mr. Selkirk 
 Stiggars if he wished to save his own skin. 
 
 " Les' talk it over," he temporized. 
 
 " 'Tain't nothin' to talk over. Whar that car is 
 at?" 
 
 " To the garage. I was thinkin' yo'd come to my 
 room an' take a sociable drink " 
 
 Mr. Stiggars' eyes glistened. "A sho' nuff 
 drink? " 
 
 " Yeh. No white lightnin', neither." 
 
 They repaired to Florian's room and the bottle 
 was produced. Further invitation was unneces- 
 sary. Whiskey and Selkirk Stiggars had quite evi- 
 dently met before. 
 
 " 'Tain't that I ain't willin' to give you back that 
 they car, Brother Stiggars " 
 
 " Better not be. 'Tain't nowise healthy fo' no 
 nigger to go contrariwise fum Selkirk Stiggars." 
 
 " I is gwine telyphone the garage." 
 
 " We c'n walk there."
 
 BACKFIKE 205 
 
 " Woul'n't think of troublin' you, Brother Stig- 
 gars. Not a tall. 'Twoul'n't be p'lite. The car'll 
 be heah in a few minutes." 
 
 Florian made his escape, leaving Selkirk with the 
 fast emptying bottle. He sped to the telephone in 
 Broughton's drug store and called Lawyer Evans 
 Chew. "Lawyer Chew?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "This Flo'ian Slappey." 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 " I needs yo' 'sistance, Lawyer Chew." 
 
 " How come? " 
 
 " I is captured that bandit nigger ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Sho nuff," expanded Florian. " He put up a 
 pow'ful hahd fight but I landed him fin'ly. He's 
 up to my room locked in. What I wants you to 
 do is hike to the Molton Hotel an' git Mr. Barbour. 
 Also two or th'ee p'lice. Or fo'. Wen you gits to 
 my room, don't knock jes' walk in see? " 
 
 " Yeh." 
 
 "An' so's they won't be no misun'erstandin', 
 Lawyer Chew yo' fee fo' this ain't gwine be 
 more'n five dollars: that salisfact'ry? " 
 
 " Reckon so." 
 
 " Tell'm this, Lawyer Chew this heah Stig- 
 gars is got six hund'ed dollars cash on his pusson. 
 He won it to the lott'ry. An' say Lawyer Chew 
 take a frien's adwice an' w'en you-all come in 
 my room, see that you is las' in line yo'se'f." 
 
 Florian was in an emotional ferment when he 
 returned to the bibulous bandit. " Car's on the 
 way now, Mistuh Stiggars."
 
 206 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Le's go down an' meet it." 
 
 "Better stay Leah, Brother Stiggars. Boy'll 
 come up an' let us know." 
 
 " We c'n go down " 
 
 "No," negatived Florian firmly: "Don' look 
 dignyfied." 
 
 Selkirk Stiggars wanted to get his hands on the 
 automobile. But he didn't want to get his hands 
 off the bottle. The latter won. He held on 
 and talked on, volubly extolling his physical prow- 
 ess in dealing with various gentlemen of colour 
 who had in the past made the mistake of double- 
 crossing him and who now slept peacefully beneath 
 the sod of various Southern states. There was 
 something sinister in his selection of a topic. And 
 then there came the sound of footfalls on the stair- 
 way and then more and more. 
 
 " H-h-h-heah he c-c-c-c-comes, Brother Stiggars." 
 
 " Huh ! " Stiggars rose threateningly. " That 
 ain't no garage boy, Mistuh Slappey. Tha's a regy- 
 ment." 
 
 The thumping ceased just beyond the door 
 paused menacingly. The fetid air of the room was 
 surcharged with danger. Florian tensed the mus- 
 cles of his skinny legs for a leap beyond the zone 
 of fire. Knowing bad men in general, he had small 
 doubt that Mr. Selkirk Stiggars would shoot 
 and shoot fast. The bulge in the right hip pocket 
 appeared to expand. He hoped vaguely that Law- 
 yer Chew was well out of range. 
 
 The door swung back and a policeman stepped 
 into the room. He trained the muzzle of his serv- 
 ice revolver straight at Florian Slappey. That 
 individual; teeth chattering, shrilled in terror
 
 BACKFIRE 207 
 
 " I ain't him, Mistuh P'lice : they's yo' man, yon- 
 der!" 
 
 But the bandit did not shoot. He did not even 
 try to make his escape. He stared in very unban- 
 ditlike fashion over the shoulder of the policeman 
 into the quizzical grey eyes of Mr. Robert J. Bar- 
 bour of Peachtree street Atlanta. His expres- 
 sion was that of a man who gazes upon an appari- 
 tion. He was trembling visibly. 
 
 Slowly the lips of Mr. Barbour expanded into a 
 grin : a very broad grin. The grin became a chuc- 
 kle and then grew into a laugh. He gave quiet 
 directions to the officer. " That's all right. You 
 can put up your gun." 
 
 Florian stared from Stiggars to Mr. Barbour in 
 perplexity. He was even a bit resentful. Some- 
 thing was radically wrong. His nerves, keyed to 
 battle pitch, were raw and jangling. Only Stig- 
 gars' terror reassured him. " Wh-wh-what's all 
 this? " stammered Florian. 
 
 Barbour addressed the bandit. " I am pleased 
 to meet Mr. Selkirk Stiggars," he chuckled. " Mr. 
 Stiggars as I understand that you have six hun- 
 dred dollars in cash in your pocket, will you kindly 
 hand over two hundred to me: which amount I 
 paid for the return of my car. You may pay over 
 three hundred more to Mr. Florian Slappey, yon- 
 der. That is his promised reward for capturing 
 you." 
 
 " N-now, Boss-man . . ." stammered Stiggars. 
 
 "Do as I say!" 
 
 The money was paid over as directed. Florian 
 pocketed the three hundred dollars. ..." What's 
 it mean? "
 
 208 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Mr. Barbour laughed heartily. " I thought I'd 
 find you here/' he said to Stiggars. " Honestly, 
 Beauregard, did you think I swallowed that story 
 about the masked bandit? " 
 
 " But but, Boss," defended Stiggars, " it was 
 a pow'ful good story." 
 
 "I I ain't on'erstan'," gasped Florian. 
 
 " It is very simple," explained Barbour laugh- 
 ingly. " Selkirk Stiggars is my chauffeur, Beau- 
 regard Tuggle. He got into that poker game in 
 Anniston and lost fourteen dollars of his own 
 money and a hundred and fifty of mine. Then he 
 pawned my automobile and came on here with his 
 story of being robbed by a bandit. He supplied 
 too many and too graphic details. I gave the story 
 to the newspapers and you showed up and returned 
 the car. And the way I knew that I had Beaure- 
 gard is that Selkirk Stiggars is the name of my 
 best friend's chauffeur. Beauregard was too lazy 
 in his selection of an alias. I spotted him the min- 
 ute I heard your story which explains why you 
 got my two hundred dollars so easily. As for you, 
 Beauregard, you may pay me the other hundred 
 you have and work out the additional iifty. I have 
 an idea that this will teach you a lesson." 
 
 " Huh ! I reckon it's done done it." Then his 
 eyes met those of his employer and his lips expanded 
 into a wide, white grin. " Golly, Boas-man," he 
 said pridefully, " they ain't no nigger gwine put 
 nothin' over on you, is they? " 
 
 Florian Slappey counted over his three hundred 
 dollars. He reluctantly detached a five-dollar note 
 which he handed to Lawyer Evans Chew. " They's 
 yo' fee, Lawyer Chew."
 
 BACKFIRE 209 
 
 " Huh ! " deprecated the lawyer, pocketing the 
 money, " on'y five dollars an' you th'ee hund'ed 
 ahead of the game? " 
 
 " The diffe'enee bein'," withered Florian, " that 
 I earned mine ! "
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 
 
 A THIN, plaintive wail split the quiet of the 
 night. For a few seconds it maintained 
 a high, shrill pitch; then diminuendoed 
 to a croupy pizzicato sobbing. Derry Moultrie sat 
 up straight in bed, the glory of his lavender pa- 
 jamas wasted on the blackness of the night. 
 
 "Dawg gawn! Narcissy, ain't that Chinners' 
 baby never sleep? " 
 
 " Yeh in the day times," snapped his wife vi- 
 ciously. 
 
 " Seems like they'd ought to have some 'sidera- 
 tion Oh ! Law lis'en at that ! " 
 
 That was a hoarse, croaky baritone which effec- 
 tively drowned the infantile cries. The man's voice 
 punctured the thin board partition which divided 
 the Chinners and Moultrie sides of the two-family 
 house and pounded on the eardrums of the har- 
 assed Moultries. 
 
 O-o-oh ! 
 
 A jay-bird sat on a hick'ry limb, 
 He wink at me an' I wink at him ; 
 
 I pick up a rock an' I hit 'im in the shin 
 He say : " Please, Mist' Chinners, don' do that ag'in ! " 
 
 For perhaps fifteen minutes Truman Chinners 
 bellowed discord into the night, faithfully chron- 
 icling the vicissitudes of the unfortunate jay-bird. 
 Came a pause and the Moultrie family listened 
 hopefully. But the Chinners infant had no mind 
 to end the concert and his tremolo squeal resumed 
 
 213
 
 214 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 the nocturne where the proud father had left off. 
 The baby cried: cried until it choked and then 
 settled into a prolonged sobbing. The voice of 
 Chinners pere rumbled once again through the par- 
 tition 
 
 O-o-oh! 
 
 A jay-bird sat on a hickory limb, 
 He wink at me an' I wink at him. . . . 
 
 It was too much strain for the jangling nerves of 
 the overwrought Derry Moultrie. He left his bed 
 in a bound and snapped on the electric bulb. He 
 crossed the room and hammered on the board wall 
 until it shook. The voice of Truman Chinners came 
 querulously to his ears a momentary relief from 
 the infernal singing. 
 
 " Wha's all the row 'bout? " 
 
 Derry was choking with rage. His naturally 
 chocolate complexion had taken on a greenish tinge 
 and his voice quivered with passion. " Jes' wan'ed 
 to know," he roared, "how long you runs on one 
 windin'? " 
 
 A severe silence ensued. It intensified Derry's 
 wrath more than a sharp answer. " If'n you cain't 
 keep that baby quiet . . ." 
 
 That, evidently, was the baby's cue. He took 
 advantage of it with a vengeance. The wailing 
 which had gone before had been quiet and soothing 
 in comparison with the squawks and squeals and 
 choking grunts which echoed Derry's unfinished 
 threat. Narcissy, draped now in an old-rose ki- 
 mono the gift of white folks for whom she had 
 once condescended to cook fancied that she heard 
 a Chinners' chuckle. She apprised her husband of
 
 'He crossed the room and hammered on the board wall 
 until it shook."
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 215 
 
 the suspicion and together they paced the floor, 
 robbed of all chance for sleep. 
 
 The mantel clock cuckoo'd thrice. An A. G. S. 
 train shrieked tauntingly as it rumbled through 
 the city. The parental Chinners had settled to a 
 crooning duet the father's rancid baritone a 
 full measure ahead of the mother's rich con- 
 tralto. 
 
 Each sound from the Chinners' manse seemed 
 intensified by its journey to the Moultrie home. 
 The thin boarding which had converted a one- 
 family cottage into a source of double rental, was 
 evidently imbued with acoustic properties. Derry 
 and Narcissy sat on the edge of their bed and shook 
 with silent rage. Finally forbearance ceased to be 
 a virtue and Derry smashed a clench fist into an 
 open palm : " 'Tain't to be stood ! " 
 
 " 'Tain't ! " agreed Narcissy dutifully. 
 
 " Folks what is got babies don' have no 'sidera- 
 tion a tall." 
 
 " Not none," came the wifely echo. 
 
 " Jes' wait'll I gits to him Ise gwine make 
 him stop that racket ! " 
 
 " How? " queried the annoyingly practical Nar- 
 cissy. Derry whirled on her in a rage. 
 
 " How ? How I know how ? I ain't no cunjer-doc- 
 tor, but Ise man enough to make 'im quit. Enough 
 is too much. Ain't nobody gwine put nothin' ov' on 
 Derry Moultrie. One month sencst that baby be'n 
 bohn an' I ain't had a night's res' ontil yet. Seems 
 like folks'd have mo' sense'n to have babies in a 
 two-fambly house." 
 
 Narcissy shook her head commiseratingly. 
 " Orpha Chinners was tellin' me yestiddy " She
 
 216 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 broke off suddenly and lifted her head expectantly. 
 Something was wrong. Silence had occurred on 
 the other side of the partition. The Moultries tip- 
 toed to the wall and applied their ears. They heard 
 sibilant mutterings, much cautious tipping about 
 the room, then, in the voice of the father 
 " Dawg'd if 'n he ain't 'sleep a'ready ! " 
 
 The qualifying adverb set Derry Moultrie 
 a-quiver with a vast righteous indignation. It was 
 the last straw. For thirty days and more he had 
 lost his quota of sleep and Derry, in common with 
 all others of his race, was over-fond of the Mor- 
 phean embrace. 
 
 " They ain't gwine put nothin' ov' on me," he 
 muttered vindictively, whereupon he raised his rich, 
 clear tenor in the opening measures of a popular 
 syncopated hit. It was balm to his soul to envision 
 the petrifaction caused beyond the partition by 
 this latest offensive manffiuvre. Narcissy smiled 
 with benign approval. There came an imperative 
 rapping from the Chinners side of the house and 
 the angry voice of Orpha Chinners. 
 
 " Quit that racket, Derry : you is gwine wake 
 Wade Hampton up." 
 
 Apparently Derry did not hear. Certainly he 
 did not cease his leather-lunged singing. Within 
 two minutes his valiant efforts were rewarded by 
 the startled screaming of Wade Hampton Chin- 
 ners. Punctuating the infantile yells he could 
 hear the fervent profanity of the father and the 
 volley of threats which accompanied it. 
 
 War had been declared. 
 
 An engagement of outposts occurred at six-thirty 
 in the morning after a night of bitter recrimination
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 217 
 
 through the dividing wall. Derry Moultrie and 
 Truman Chinners, both carpenters by profession, 
 met on the common veranda as they sallied forth 
 to work. Red eyes gazed hostilely into red eyes. 
 Both men were physically exhausted by the labours 
 of the night. Neither was in a fit condition for 
 a day of hard work. Derry would have passed 
 on without a word but the battle-spirit of father- 
 hood was rampant in Truman's blood as he placed 
 himself deliberately in Derry's path and glared up 
 into his eyes. 
 
 " Derry Moultrie Ise warnin' you to be care- 
 ful they ain't no repeatin' of las' night." 
 
 " What 'bout las' night? " inquired Derry inno- 
 cently. 
 
 " That yowlin' you an' Narcissy was doin'." 
 
 " I reckon this is a free country." 
 
 " You done it to wake'n up li'l Wade Hampton." 
 
 " I ain't got no mind 'bout Wade Hampton. An' 
 if 'n I had ain't he been keepin' me awake fo' a 
 month?" 
 
 " I cain't help what he does " 
 
 " Folks what cain't control they babies, Truman 
 Chinners, ain't got no right to have 'em. If n you 
 c'n keep that bag of yells quiet I reckon they ain't 
 no reason why us cain't git along pleasant like we 
 useter." 
 
 " 'Tain't my fault 
 
 " Hmph ! Reckon you is gwine say Orpha makes 
 you sing ! " 
 
 " She does." 
 
 " You is some hen-pecked man, Truman. Nex' 
 thing, Orpha'll be sewin' pink ribbons on yo' night- 
 shirt to fool the baby! "
 
 218 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Truman flared. " What goes on in my house 
 ain't no concern of your'n, Derry." 
 
 " Same to you, an 1 also ditto. If n they ain't no 
 law 'gainst a baby yowliii' an' you singin', I reckon 
 us'n c'n have a concert any time we want it." 
 
 Truman squared up to his once friendly neigh- 
 bour. He had half the size but twice the belliger- 
 ency of Derry. 
 
 " Bet' not make me sore, Derry." 
 
 tt pfff | y ou a i n 't noways th'eatenin' me, is 
 you?" And, as a complimentary afterthought: 
 " You li'l runt ! " 
 
 " I ain't th'eatenin' I'se wa'nin' tha's all ! " 
 
 "Huh! Wen I gits wa'ned, I wants to git 
 wa'ned by a man." 
 
 " You is gwine fin' out quick enough I is a man 
 if'n you keep on like what you done las' night. 
 'Member that, Derry Moultrie. If'n you vallie yo' 
 complexion, you jes' 'member that ! " 
 
 The men separated without an actual physical 
 clash, Truman Chinners strutting like a victorious 
 bantam to his temporary job a few blocks away; 
 and Derry Moultrie toward the car line. 
 
 Derry was angry. His mind was busy with a 
 consideration of ways and means having as their 
 objective the downfall of the Chinners household. 
 The beauty of a perfect morning was wasted on 
 his misanthropic mood. He swung into Avenue H 
 with long, space-eating strides. His eye happened 
 to light on a sign. He knew that sign. It had 
 startled darktown's society set with its unheralded 
 appearance three days previously. It was an or- 
 nate sign, grinning forth from the veranda of a 
 one-family cottage in the centre of the residential
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 219 
 
 section populated by the ultra-fashionable coloured 
 citizenry. 
 
 PRINCESS RAJJAH 
 
 CLAREVOYANT EXTRIORDINARY 
 
 OCULTISM ORISTAL GAZING 
 
 Find Out What Your Husband and 
 Sweetheart is Doing 
 
 DO YOU WANT TO GET EICH FOB 
 
 ONE DOLLAR 
 
 Sure You Do ! 
 
 Then See The PRINCESS RAJJAH 
 Most World Famous and Cheapest 
 
 He perused the sign carefully. His lips curled 
 scornfully back from twin rows of shiny white 
 teeth. " Bunk ! " he soliloquized sceptically : " an' 
 they ain't 'ary one of these heah niggers ain't fell 
 fo' it ! 'Ceptin' on'y me ! " 
 
 He boarded a trolley for the centre of the city 
 and transferred to a suburban car marked " West- 
 field." In the trailer he found a jam of fellow- 
 workmen, most of whom were bound for Westfield 
 where five hundred cottages were being erected by 
 a big contracting firm under rush orders. From 
 the workers' standpoint the job was an excellent 
 one ; the wages large, the hours easy and, until 
 the birth of Wade Hampton Chinners the carpen- 
 tering of Derry Moultrie had found favour in the 
 eyes of all the foremen; white and coloured alike. 
 
 But the past month had effected a change. No 
 longer did Derry come whistling to work refreshed 
 by a long night of undisturbed slumber. He was 
 the victim of vicarious insomnia. He dozed over
 
 220 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 his labours and thereupon fell from grace. All 
 of which had considerable to do with his rancour 
 against the whole Chinners family. 
 
 Previous to the advent of little Wade Hampton, 
 the Moultries and the Chinnerses had been the best 
 of friends. The ladies found each other congenial 
 as neighbours and fellow-members of The Lily of 
 the Valley Club. The husbands spent their eve- 
 nings together discussing professional matters. 
 They were members of the same church and both 
 held minor offices in the exclusive Sons & Daugh- 
 ters of I Will Arise. 
 
 The baby had changed it all. Friendship had 
 been metamorphosed into enmity. The parents of 
 the child their first and only resented the re- 
 sentment of the childless couple. They could not 
 understand that anything Wade Hampton might 
 do could be otherwise than wonderful or univer- 
 sally pleasing. They considered it an honour that 
 the Moultries were allowed to sacrifice a paltry few 
 hours of sleep for the pleasure of listening to the 
 lusty, precocious yells. The Chinnerses did not 
 object: certainly the Moultries' protests were in- 
 dicative of basest ingratitude and a lack of all 
 sense of appreciation. It wasn't the Moultries' 
 baby and it wasn't their house. The Chinnerses 
 were not responsible for the very thin boarding 
 which separated their homes. 
 
 Relations had been broken off in toto. But there 
 was no gainsaying the fact that the Chinnerses were 
 getting the better of what had rapidly developed 
 into bitter warfare. It was inevitable that the 
 Moultries would grow tired of remaining awake 
 for the purpose of waking Wade Hampton when
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 221 
 
 he drifted off to sleep. On the other hand: night 
 wakefulness came natural to the baby. 
 
 Derry Moultrie developed, with desperate and 
 somewhat devilish ingenuity, new methods of tor- 
 ture. He went to the expense of having a tele- 
 phone installed. For obvious reasons, the instru- 
 ment was placed in the kitchen, out of Chinners' 
 earshot. The Chinnerses had a telephone and for 
 many nights after the installation in the Moultrie 
 home, the dropping off to sleep of Wade Hampton 
 was the signal for a violent jangling of their tele- 
 phone bell. Truman Chinners would leap for the 
 'phone, hoarsely whisper a " Hello ! " only to hear 
 the mocking click of a receiver at the other end 
 which he fortunately did not know was the Moul- 
 trie home and the cool, calm voice of Central 
 inquiring " Number, please ! " Inevitably Wade 
 Hampton waked, squalled and was trundled by 
 his father. 
 
 But despite Derry's best efforts victory perched 
 on the Chinners' banner. Derry and his now hag- 
 gard wife realized poignantly that they had lost 
 the fight and that they were destined to spend the 
 remaining eight months of their leasehold in a 
 nightmare of sleeplessness. 
 
 'The diminutive cause of all the trouble contin- 
 ued to howl his nights happily away. The fond 
 parents took it all as a matter of divine course, and 
 the carpentering of Truman Chinners became even 
 more expert than it had been. He was in the grip 
 of proudest fatherhood and each nail driven de- 
 veloped a finer technique under the inspiration of 
 his lusty-lunged son and heir. Truman had even 
 been emboldened to a flyer in independent contract-
 
 222 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ing which, unfortunately, had driven him close to 
 the ragged edge of disaster. But even that pro- 
 fessional debacle had been salved by the pudgy 
 brown fingers of his son. 
 
 Derry Moultrie had no such balm. The condi- 
 tion trifling enough at the outset had been 
 magnified a thousandfold by the long period of en- 
 forced sleeplessness. The tempers of himself and 
 his wife had been utterly annihilated. They be- 
 came crabbed and rowed with one another. 
 
 The warfare between the two sections of the 
 divided house became merciless. Chinners more 
 than half-suspected the source of the many-times- 
 nightly telephone calls and muttered overt threats 
 having to do with the complete and sudden extinc- 
 tion of the Moultrie family. But by the end of the 
 second week it had become patent to the Moultries 
 that things could not remain as they were. Even 
 their temporary triumphs were too dearly bought. 
 Whereupon, after a heavy-eyed consultation with 
 his consort, Derry presented himself before Good- 
 rich Carroll, agent for the house in which he lived. 
 He explained to Mr. Carroll that he wished the 
 Chinnerses removed and removed quickly. Mr. 
 Carroll shook his head. 
 
 " They have a lease, Derry." 
 
 "Sho' don' I know that, Cap'n? But what 
 good's a lease if'n white folks cain't bust it? " 
 
 Mr. Carroll smiled. " You must have a rea- 
 son." 
 
 " Sho' is." 
 
 " What is it? " 
 
 " Jes' trouble," answered Derry evasively. 
 " You see, Cap'n Carroll, us'n the Chinnerses don'
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 223 
 
 git 'long so well like what we useter. Mis' Chin- 
 nerses is got pow'ful uppity 'long with my wife an' 
 they is rowin' all the time. An' w'en wimmin gits 
 to rowin' Cap'n, they ain't nothin' to put between 
 'em but distance an' lots of it. An' of co'se me'n 
 Truman ain't Men's like what we useter be, an' Ise 
 pow'ful skeered they's gwine be trouble between 
 him an' I." 
 
 " Why don't you sublet? " inquired the real estate 
 agent. " I'd agree if you secured a reliable ten- 
 ant." 
 
 Derry shook his head. He had no mind to end 
 the vendetta by a Moultrie evacuation. " Guess'n 
 I could if'n I had to, Cap'n; but to tell the hones' 
 truth, this heah job which I is got over to Wes'fiel' 
 ain't li'ble to las' so long on account they ain't like 
 my work so much as they useter. An' besides they 
 ain't no mo' houses 'roun' where I lives at an' seem' 
 tha's the bes' resydential section fo' coloured folks 
 what they is I sort of hate to move out of it." 
 
 " Doesn't it strike you that the Chinnerses might 
 feel the same way about it? " 
 
 " Them? Naw! They is got a baby, Cap'n Car- 
 roll, an' w'en folks has babies they don' keer no 
 mo' 'bouten sassiety. I been rentin' fum you th'ee 
 yeahs, Boss-man, an' I knows good an' well they 
 ain't nobody gwine git nothin' fo' nothin', so I 
 kinder thought if'n I was to pay you 'bout twen'y 
 dollars you might fin' out some way to bus' that 
 lease eh?" 
 
 Mr. Carroll chuckled. He liked this tall, slim, 
 clean negro whom he had found an honest, reliable 
 tenant. And he knew there was some compelling 
 motive behind the unusual request, especially since
 
 224 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 it was backed by a proffered bribe of twenty dol- 
 lars cash. 
 
 " I really don't believe I can do anything, Derry ; 
 but I'll take the money and try. If I fail, I'll re- 
 turn the twenty." 
 
 " You could fin' 'nother tenint easy, coulVt 
 you?" 
 
 " That's the very easiest part of it, Derry. The 
 rub comes from Truman Chinners. If he doesn't 
 care to move, and continues to pay his rent I 
 can't put him out." 
 
 " G'wan, Cap'n," retorted Derry with glorious, 
 grinning confidence, " they ain't nothin' you coul'n't 
 make a nigger do if'n you sot yo' min' to it." 
 
 But after three days of intensive diplomatic ef- 
 fort, Mr. Carroll reported that he was unable to 
 influence Truman Chinners to vacate his home. 
 " Sorry, Derry but there wasn't a thing stirring. 
 Here's your twenty " 
 
 Derry waved it wearily aside. " You hoi' on to 
 it, Boss-man. You is good as a bank, anyways. 
 An' they ain't nev' no tellin' w'en sumpin' will 
 come up." 
 
 " I'm afraid nothing will," was the cheerless an- 
 swer, " unless you bring it about yourself." 
 
 Derry looked up suddenly. " Onless I Boss- 
 man, you sho' spoke a mouthful that time." 
 
 " Meaning what, Derry? " 
 
 The beginnings of a thought were agitating 
 Derry's brain. He answered vaguely. "I I 
 ain't know yit 'zac'ly Cap'n. Not 'zac'ly. 
 But I sort of feel's if I was gwine have an idee." 
 
 He left the office of the real estate agent and 
 walked homeward with long, easy strides. And
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 225 
 
 the idea which had been begotten of Goodrich Car- 
 roll's casual remark, matured rapidly. Derry's 
 brow wrinkled with a tumescence of thought as he 
 swung into Avenue H and paused before the sanc- 
 tum of The Princess Rajjah Clarevoyant Extrior- 
 dinary Most World Famous & Cheapest. For 
 perhaps ten minutes he studied that sign intently. 
 Then his lips expanded to a broad, red smile and 
 the smile became a chuckle. 
 
 " Golly ! " he murmured, " Ise gwine take a 
 chancst. They ain't nobody superstishuser'n Tru- 
 man an' Orpha Chinners. Not nobody a tall." 
 
 The noon hour had not yet chimed and by the 
 delay in answering his eager ring, Derry correctly 
 judged that the clairvoyanting business was on a 
 temporary decline. He was pleased with the idea, 
 but not a little surprised. 
 
 From the day of the Princess's arrival, darktown 
 had been stirred to the roots over her undeniable 
 soothsaying prowess. Much wisdom had dripped 
 sonorously from her supposedly East Indian lips 
 in a dialect suspiciously Afro-American. She had 
 discovered lost jewelry and brought about more 
 than one marriage. She had foretold commercial 
 successes and traced the past with a vague gener- 
 ality which carried specific meaning to the gullible 
 listeners. In short The Princess Rajjah had be- 
 come quite the society rage. 
 
 But dollars are dollars, and even a clairvoyant 
 who sticks consistently to the silver lining in her 
 prognostications must discover that negro pocket- 
 books are not elastic. Having one's fortune told 
 was a luxury which few could afford at all, and 
 none often. At the hour of Derry's arrival Mr.
 
 22G POLISHED EBONY 
 
 and Mrs. Princess Rajjah were deep in discussion 
 of removal to new and more fertile fields. 
 
 A quick glance through the curtained window, 
 and Mr. Princess Rajjah postulated that a new 
 worshipper was come to the shrine of the infinite. 
 He swiftly donned a gaudy bathrobe and a tall 
 headgear resembling a be-starred dunce's cap, 
 whilst Mrs. Princess slipped out of her kimono and 
 into the robes of state : a glass-jewelled seance cos- 
 tume. She placed herself in a cheese-cloth booth 
 behind a small table on which rested a crystal globe. 
 She deftly summoned a rapt expression and plas- 
 tered it on her face. 
 
 As Derry entered the room he was impressed in 
 spite of himself. A few Chinese joss-sticks burn- 
 ing in the rear blended with the odour of breakfast 
 onions in extremely oriental fashion. More the 
 Princess was exceedingly restful on discriminating 
 masculine eyes in her soothsaying regalia: a fact 
 which Derry noticed and the Princess noticed that 
 he noticed. Derry planked down his dollar and 
 followed directions to gaze into the crystal sphere. 
 
 The Princess gave a full dollar's worth. She 
 was unable to call Derry's name but she told ac- 
 curately that he had been born in the South, that 
 he was a workingman, married (a rash guess but a 
 good one), that he made substantial wages (which 
 fact she adduced from his clothes), that he held a 
 good position and would continue to hold it, that 
 he loved his wife but somehow was not disinclined 
 to admire the pulchritude of women more beautiful 
 than Mrs. Derry, that his prospects were bright, 
 that he would achieve his heart's desire . . . and, 
 in brief, everything in the patter of the fake for-
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 227 
 
 tune teller which is Delphic in substance. And 
 the more she talked the surer Derry became of his 
 ground. When she subsided he gave a phlegmatic 
 " Thanks " and struck straight from the shoulder. 
 
 " If n you c'n tell all that fo' a dollar, Princess, 
 I reckon you'd spout a pow'ful fine fo'tune fo' 'bout 
 twen'y wouldn't you? " 
 
 The subliminal mind of the clairvoyant snapped 
 quickly out of tune with the infinite. Here was 
 earthly, material talk which she understood and 
 she made a record journey back to mundane levels. 
 
 "Twenty dollars?" 
 
 " You said it." 
 
 "Cash?" 
 
 " Spot." 
 
 She clutched his hand but he jerked it away. 
 " Not mine," he explained. 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " They's a man in this heah town name of Tru- 
 man Chinners. I wants you to git him heah an' 
 tell his fo'tune." 
 
 " When do I get the money? " 
 
 " In adwance. On'y I ain't want you to tell him 
 no fo'tune like what you is jes' been tell in' me. 
 If'n I shell out this heah twen'y dollars I want him 
 toP my kin' of a fo'tune." 
 
 Professional ethics fought a brief battle with the 
 crying needs of the royal larder and the latter was 
 returned victorious. 
 
 " Splain yo'se'f, Mistuh - 
 
 " Nev' min' my name. It mought slip out. 
 What I wants to know is does you think if'n this 
 heah Truman Chinners, which is married an' has 
 a babv also if'n he come heah could you skeer
 
 228 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 him so's he'd move away fum the house where he 
 is livin' at now? P'efe'ably away fum town so's 
 I woul'n't be bothered with him no mo'? He's 
 pow'ful s'perstishus, Miss Rajjah, an' if'n you c'd 
 wuk it " He produced his wallet significantly. 
 
 The Princess sighed profoundly. She knew that 
 the tall, good-looking man before her was no dis- 
 ciple of Karma and she talked plain English. " I 
 reckon I could do mos' anything hones' fo' twen'y 
 dollars." 
 
 Derry hitched his chair closer. " This heah 
 thing ain't not on'y hones', Miss Rajjah it's a 
 pos'tive cha'ity. Lemme staht at the beginnin' " 
 
 A half hour later he reached the end. His elo- 
 quence had swayed the hungry Princess and she 
 promised to excel herself in bringing about the 
 result which Derry so passionately desired. The 
 two ten-dollar bills, binding the bargain, passed 
 from his hands to hers a ceremonial which Mr. 
 Princess Rajjah witnessed gleefully through the 
 portiers. Business was decidedly picking up and 
 he envisioned a Rajjah feast of succulent pork 
 chops and tender, crisp apple fritters. 
 
 Narcissy Moultrie was not as spontaneously en- 
 thusiastic as the Princess over the news of the 
 twenty. "Ain't you reckon she'd of did it fo' 
 less'n that, Derry? Not that I ain't sayin' but 
 what 'tis a good idee, but twen'y dollars " 
 
 " Huh ! " retorted Derry loftily, " Princesses ain't 
 no pikers, Narcissy. 'Tain't possible to git 'em to 
 wuk fo' you fo' a cent less'n twen'y dollars." 
 
 " Mebbe come she ain't no Princess." 
 
 " Sho' she is. She say she's a reg'lar Hindu fum 
 Hindustanee. But if n she is or she ain't don'
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 229 
 
 make no diffe'ence if n she gits them Chtnnerses 
 away fum heah. It has became a matter of p'in- 
 ciple with me. If'n we was to pack up an' lef 
 heah Truman Chinners'd go 'roun' tellin' ev'ybody 
 'bout how he run us off. . . ." 
 
 The wifely jaw squared. " That bein' the case," 
 she said grimly, "I reck'n we c'n affo'd to spen' 
 that twen'y, 'specially if'n Cap'n Carroll gives you 
 back the twen'y what you give him to git rid of 
 Truman off'n his lease." 
 
 Meanwhile the nocturnal jangling of the tele- 
 phone was temporarily discontinued and an armis- 
 tice of a sort declared between the Chinners and 
 Moultrie households. Little Wade Hampton 
 howled psens of victory in the stilly hours of the 
 night, but somehow he had lost his .power to enrage 
 the Moultries. They realized that they now held 
 eleven of the trumps and they patiently awaited 
 developments from the realm of the supernatural. 
 
 Thus far Truman Chinners and his wife had bat- 
 tled heroically against the temptation to visit the 
 seeress on Avenue H. They were both steeped in 
 superstition and fiercely attracted by anything 
 which savoured of glimpsing the future; but they 
 had taken unto themselves the first member of a 
 second generation and their parental duty was 
 plain. They could not afford two dollars and it 
 was romantically unthinkable that one should go 
 without the other. 
 
 It had been a hard battle, but conscientiousness 
 and the necessity for economy had won out. Tru- 
 man had given in most grudgingly. The future did 
 not look entirely roseate for Chinners pcre. He 
 had recently, in the glory of fatherhood, and the
 
 230 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 certainty of accomplishment essayed the con- 
 tract for the building of a small house on Seven- 
 teenth Street. Things looked bright at the outset, 
 but two of his best workmen had accepted more at- 
 tractive offers elsewhere and in order to get new 
 men in a hurry Truman was compelled to advance 
 the wage scale upon which his bid had been based. 
 Then bad weather took a hand a contingency 
 which was not provided against in the contract. 
 The day for the completion of the job found it still 
 unfinished, and the following week saw the paper 
 profits melting slowly away, until, when the task 
 was finished and his accounts straightened, Tru- 
 man found that he had been paying the owner of 
 the little house seventy-two cents a day for the 
 privilege of working for him. 
 
 Thereupon he decided unanimously that the con- 
 tracting business was not what it was cracked up 
 to be. He had been hoist by the petard of his 
 ambition and received a severe setback. He ac- 
 cepted five days' work at union wages and was glad 
 to get them. At the end of that period he faced 
 the necessity for securing anything which happened 
 to present itself. From Orpha he received little 
 encouragement. Orpha was too absorbed in the 
 temperamental eccentricities of little Wade Hamp- 
 ton Chinners to hear the not too distant bowlings 
 of the wolf. 
 
 The night after Berry's conversation with the 
 Princess Rajjah, Mr. and Mrs. Simeon Broughton 
 called upon the Chinnerses. Simeon big, bluff 
 and hearty was good-naturedly tolerant of the 
 effervescence of his radiant young wife. As for 
 Pearl, she was fairly bubbling over with excite-
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 231 
 
 ment inspired by the brummagem display and con- 
 vincing chatter of the Princess. 
 
 "We is jes' come fum the Princess Rajjah's," 
 she exclaimed, " an' she's sho 1 the wonderfullest 
 'ooman. . . ." 
 
 Truman squirmed. " Reckon she is," he re- 
 turned wistfully. 
 
 " She done tol' me an' Simeon all 'bout ourselfs, 
 an' an' " She paused impressively. " She 
 done call yo'all's name right out." 
 
 Mr. Truman Chinners stiffened. " What f" 
 
 " Sho' nuff ! Ain't it the truth, Simeon? " 
 
 The giant of a man, who made an excellent and 
 steady living as community gardener for fashion- 
 able white folks in the summer months and fur- 
 nace chaperone in winter nodded his head. The 
 fact that Simeon was- impressed had a two-fold ef- 
 fect on the naturally credulous Truman. 
 
 " She she said sumthin' 'bout usf " 
 
 " Yeh. . . . She say : ' I see two figgers flyin' 
 'roun' a house on Eighteenth street,' she say, jes' 
 like that. * One of them they figgers is name' Op- 
 portunity an' one of 'em is name' Trouble.' Hones', 
 Mistuh Chinners, she say it jes' 'zac'ly like that. 
 Ain't that the Gawd's truth, Simeon? " 
 
 " Yeh jes' thataway." 
 
 "An' an' what else? " quavered Truman Chin- 
 ners. 
 
 " She say : 1 1 see a name name of Chinners. 
 An' two figgers one name' Opportunity an' one 
 name' Trouble. They is flyin' 'roun' the Chin- 
 nerses' house. Whar this heah Mistuh Chinners is 
 at?' Then she kinder stop an 1 git ghosty: 'I 
 must see Mistuh Chinners,' she say. ' Is Mistuh
 
 232 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Chinners in the house right now at p'esent?'" 
 
 Truman had turned a pale green. " You you 
 ain't makin' fumadiddles with me, is you, Mis' 
 Broughton? " 
 
 " Co'se I ain't. I ain't no jokin' gal whar sper- 
 rits is consarned at." 
 
 " What else she say? " 
 
 " Nothin'." 
 
 " Not nothin' tall?" 
 
 " Nary 'nother word." 
 
 After the Broughtons had departed Truman 
 paced the floor. His psychic condition was piti- 
 able. He was infinitely worried but not too wor- 
 ried to kill two birds with one stone. Since his 
 emotional seethe commanded that he walk, he 
 carried Wade Hampton Chinners in his paternal 
 arms, much to that young gentleman's delight. 
 
 The Infinite had spoken through the lips of the 
 Princess Raj jah lips which were even at that 
 moment smacking most unethereally over the juicy 
 pork chops purchased with Derry Moultrie's money. 
 Had Derry been gifted with occult powers he would 
 have revelled in the knowledge of Truman Chin- 
 ners' mental turmoil. 
 
 Truman fought it out by himself. The Princess 
 Rajjah could not have hit upon two words more 
 calculated to hopelessly intrigue his interest. Op- 
 portunity: he was seeking Opportunity as no 
 man seeks it until he faces a period barren of work. 
 And the trouble omen ... he cast a wild glance 
 at the cherubic face of his now sleeping son. Trou- 
 ble meant Wade Hampton he was quite sure of 
 that. He discussed the matter with Orpha but 
 Orpha could not see things his way. She knew
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 283 
 
 little of his foggy business vista and to her a dollar 
 expended upon the Princess Rajjah was a dollar 
 spent for selfish, inexcusable indulgence. " Fo' a 
 dollar," she expounded, "we c'n pay the fust in- 
 stallment on that carri'ge down to the fu'niture 
 man's, an' Wade Hampton is jes' nacherally got to 
 have him a carri'ge. 'Tain't decent not to." 
 
 Truman gave in. He did it reluctantly, stub- 
 bornly, and with an ill-will. But he gave in. 
 
 But when, on the following night Florian Slap- 
 pey wealthy mentor of the younger social set, 
 breezed in on them with news that once again the 
 prophetic figures had appeared to the gaze of the 
 Princess Rajjah as floating over the Chinners' home, 
 and that she imperiously demanded the presence of 
 Truman Chinners if he was to be saved disaster 
 to " some one in that they home what is got the 
 initials W. H. C. " Truman Chinners went and 
 he went fast. 
 
 His chest was heaving and his forehead beaded 
 with cold perspiration as he presented himself be- 
 fore the Princess Rajjah. She dismissed two wait- 
 ing disciples and cannily accepted his dollar. He 
 was vastly impressed by the tawdry glitter. He 
 watched her as she focussed her eyes on the polished 
 crystal and slipped promptly into a thoroughly 
 efficient and impressive trance. 
 
 She started speaking. Sure of her ground 
 thanks to the exhaustive biographies furnished by 
 the foresighted Derry Moultrie she spoke with 
 perfect assurance. No generalities crept in to mar 
 the convincing effect. Her nuance was deep and 
 throaty and not unmusical. With the finely de- 
 veloped theatric instinct of her race she swayed
 
 234 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 her lithe, shapely body, rolled her eyes until the 
 whites showed terrifyingly and intoned her spirit 
 message. 
 
 " Yo' name is Chinners Chinners lemme see : 
 Tru Truman Chinners. You is got a wife name' 
 Orpha tha's it Orpha Chinners. Tha's yo' 
 wife's name. You lives on Eighteenth Street 
 'tween Avenues G an' H : tha's whar you lives at, 
 Truman Chinners. You lives right they. I see a 
 thi'd member of the fam'ly ve'y small an' tiny 
 a li'l bitsy baby. Name' name' is it Wade 
 Hampton Chinners? Is that the name, Truman 
 Chinners? " 
 
 " Yeh . . . yeh. . . . Tha's my baby. Tha's 
 him." 
 
 Truman was in a pitiful condition. Every mus- 
 cle in his short, heavy-set body was tensed. He 
 was leaning forward in his chair, hands clutching 
 the table-edge, eyes popping from their sockets. 
 He was the type of subject to warm the cockles 
 of a good soothsayer's heart. And the Princess 
 Rajjah was not slow in responding to his flattering 
 gullibility. 
 
 " They is a figger floatin' 'roun' yo' home, Tru- 
 man Chinners a figger a figger. . . . Figger 
 name' Opportunity. It is talkin' talkin'. . . . 
 It say : * Truman Chinners, you mus' leave off f um 
 livin' whar you is at ! ' It say : ' Truman Chin- 
 ners, they is a chancst fo' you to make a heap of 
 money a heap of money away west west. 
 . . . Fo' you to make piles of money west. . . .'" 
 
 " Wes'fiel'? " breathed Truman. 
 
 "Westfield. An' they is 'nother figger a-flyin' 
 'roun' 'longside ol' Opportunity, Truman Chinners,
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 235 
 
 an' his name is Trouble OP Trouble flyin' 'long 
 with Opportunity. An' Trouble is talkin' talkin'. 
 . . . Trouble is p'intin' down th'ough the ruf of 
 yo' house, Truman Chinners, p'intin' to a li'l baby 
 
 a li'l baby. . . . Baby name' name' Wade 
 Hampton Chinners. Trouble p'intin' to the baby 
 
 to that they baby. . . . 
 
 " Trouble lookin' pow'f ul dahk on that baby, Tru- 
 man Chinners . . . it's trouble fum nearabouts 
 trouble fum yo' neighbors. . . ." 
 
 Truman shook as with ague. " That'll be Derry 
 an' Narcissy Moultrie ! " 
 
 " Trouble ain't mention no names," continued the 
 medium craftily, " ain't mention no names 
 'ceptin' on'y he is lookin' west an' smilin' . . . 
 sayin' if you leave off fum livin' whar you is livin' 
 at an' go t'wa'ds the settin' sun they ain't gwine 
 be no mo' trouble. But w'en he looks east or 
 st'aight down 'specially st'aight down he's 
 frownin' sumpin' terrible. Trouble, Truman Chin- 
 ners, trouble fo' the li'l baby less'n you move fum 
 livin' whar you is at ! " 
 
 Truman's spine was all marrow when he reached 
 home. The incantations of the Princess Kajjah 
 lost nothing in the retelling. He passed an appre- 
 hensive night within easy reach of a revolver, his 
 eyes fixed menacingly upon the thin board parti- 
 tion which separated his home from the Moultrie 
 domicile. 
 
 To say that he and his wife were convinced of 
 impending danger is to display rank conservatism. 
 They were fairly petrified with terror and at dawn 
 of the next day they started preparations which 
 were more hasty than thorough.
 
 236 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 It was a red-letter day for the Moultries who sat 
 grinningly in their dining-room and barkened to 
 the sweet music of preparation for the exodus. 
 " Twen'y dollars," breathed Derry. " It's cheap at 
 twice the price ! " 
 
 That afternoon the Chinners evacuated the ill- 
 omened Eighteenth Street house, their belongings 
 piled high in a rickety one-horse dray. The family 
 boarded a street-car and disappeared from the 
 neighbourhood. The Moultries relaxed in supine 
 bliss. Then they prepared for a fitting celebration. 
 
 They were too happy to be satisfied with their 
 own society. Informal invitations were telephoned 
 and by nine o'clock p. M. the revelry was in full 
 swing. It lasted until two in the morning : a hodge- 
 podge of dancing and soft drinks and peanuts and 
 popcorn and ten-cent-store candies. For a spon- 
 taneous affair it was a signal triumph. 
 
 And, free from the yowlings of the Chinners heir, 
 Derry and Narcissy slept as they had not not 
 since the next-door visit of the stork many weeks 
 previously. They slumbered the sleep of the wholly 
 righteous and utterly exhausted. When they waked 
 the sun had already mounted brilliantly to 
 mid-heaven and their breakfast doubled as 
 lunch. 
 
 It was too late for Derry to consider working 
 and he and Narcissy declared a holiday. Derry 
 robed himself in his best suit a black-and-white 
 checked affair which had long been the pride of 
 his social hours. Narcissy was radiant in a blue- 
 plumed white hat, a gorgeously embroidered crepe- 
 de-Chine waist, a blue serge skirt and a shiny, crim- 
 son belt. They made an attractive picture as they
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 237 
 
 strutted townward, and, once in the centre of the' 
 city, Derry turned eastward. 
 
 " Whar you is gwine, Derry? " 
 
 Derry chuckled. " Ov' to git that twen'y dollars 
 back fum Cap'n Carroll." 
 
 The real estate agent greeted them genially and 
 burst immediately into words. " I have some 
 mighty good news for you folks," he said. 
 
 "Yassuh?" 
 
 " I got rid of the Chinnerses." 
 
 " You got'n rid. . . ." 
 
 " Surest thing, you know. Truman Chinners 
 happened up in my office yesterday morning and 
 I grabbed him. I didn't mince matters. ' This is 
 your last chance, Truman,' I said positively: 
 1 Will you or will you not take twenty dollars for 
 your lease?' Trust Goodrich Carroll not to give 
 him a chance to raise the ante. l Answer yes or 
 no,' I said, * and be quick ! ' ' 
 
 Derry felt slightly ill. "I I reckon he 
 didn't hahdly consider it ve'y long, did he, Cap'n? " 
 
 " Nope ! " cheerfully. " He snapped me right up. 
 1 Where's the twenty? ' he asked, and I forked over 
 your two ten-dollar bills. I was going to ride by 
 this afternoon to tell you the good news." 
 
 " Thanks. . . . Say, Cap'n, reckon you didn't 
 happen to ast him what fo' he come up to see you 
 'bout, did you?" 
 
 Mr. Carroll shook his head. " Why, no. Now 
 that you mention it, I don't think I did." 
 
 " Thought not," murmured Derry dully. 
 
 " Why? " 
 
 " Nothin'." 
 
 " You must have had a reason for asking "
 
 238 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Ain't no reason 'ceptin' on'y I got a hunch 
 Truman was comin' heah to offer you money fo' 
 lettin' him git out of the lease." 
 
 " Don't be foolish, Derry." 
 
 "Cain't help it, Cap'n Carroll. Guess'n I was 
 bohn foolish." 
 
 He and Narcissy turned sadly away. That his 
 twenty dollars had been unnecessarily paid over 
 to Truman Chinners put a thorough damper on 
 their jollity. Now that Wade Hampton had de- 
 parted and his wailings become mere memory, he 
 loomed less formidable and the forty dollars much 
 larger. The angle of perspective was changed. 
 Derry and Narcissy found themselves looking 
 through the reverse end of the telescope. 
 
 "Got another tenint?" queried Derry apathet- 
 ically. 
 
 Carroll rubbed his hands. " Certainly have. 
 They'll move in tomorrow." 
 
 "Name' which?" 
 
 " Preston, I think. Not sure, though. Anyway, 
 they're paying me two and a half more per month 
 than Truman Chinners so I really owe you a 
 debt of gratitude." 
 
 " Huh ! Ise shuah glad somebody owes me 
 sumthin'. It's a pow'ful strange feelin' these heah 
 days." 
 
 Sleep did not come easily to Derry Moultrie that 
 night. The farther away his forty dollars, the 
 more attractive they seemed. Narcissy sensed his 
 mood and refrained from nagging too much. 
 But she nagged sufficiently to make Derry glad 
 when morning came and he could depart for his 
 day's labours in Westfield.
 
 A HOUSE DIVIDED 239 
 
 At two o'clock that afternoon he reappeared. 
 But he was not empty-handed. His right fist 
 clutched the workbox containing his tools. He was 
 a-tremble with fury and there was blood in his eye. 
 He flung into the house without a word and 
 slammed his tool-box down on the best rug. There 
 was no hint of apology accompanying the act. 
 
 Circumstance and instinct combined to warn 
 Narcissy that this was no time for fault-finding. 
 She bided her time, awaiting the inevitable open- 
 ing of the verbal floodgates. It came in a single 
 fervid expletive : 
 
 " Damn ! " spat Derry. 
 
 " What what you doin' home this heah time 
 of day, Hon? " 
 
 " Ise home an' Ise gwine stay home ! They's 
 some things no se'f-respectin' man c'n stan' ! " 
 
 " Sumthin' wrong? " 
 
 " Sumthin' wrong? Jes' heah that 'ooman ! 
 Sumthin' wrong? Huh! Whyn't you ask me is 
 sumthin' right? " 
 
 Narcissy waited patiently. She knew her hus- 
 band. " Yeh? " she suggested. 
 
 " It's that they Princess Raj jah what you 
 think she done did? " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " She's went an' sent Truman Chinners ov' to 
 Wes'fieP lookin' fo' a job." 
 
 " To Wes'fieP whar you wuks at? " 
 
 "Wharldtdwukat!" 
 
 "Did he git him a job?" 
 
 " Did he? Trus' a feller like him to Ian' right. 
 He goes out they an' tells them white-folks he's a 
 contractor an' gives the name of the feller he done
 
 240 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 b'ilt that house fo' what he botched up so bad. 
 They call the -man up an' he gives Truman a rec- 
 comen' . . . an' they goes an' hires him " he 
 paused and fairly shot out the final words: "As 
 a foreman! " 
 
 " Foreman? " 
 
 " An' that ain't the wo'st of it," continued Derry 
 bitterly. " They makes him foreman ov' the job 
 what I is workin' on. Jes' like what I is said 
 they is some things which is too much fo' any se'f- 
 respectin' man to stan' . . . an' I quit ! Quit col' ! 
 Tha's better, I says to myse'f, than waitin' twell 
 Truman Chinners fires me ! " 
 
 A pregnant silence ensued. It jarred on the 
 nerves of Derry Moultrie. He looked up and met 
 his wife's eyes. 
 
 "What's eatin' you, Narcissy? You ain't look 
 so happy yo'se'f." 
 
 " I ain't" 
 
 "'Count of which?" 
 
 " Them new tenints them Prestons which 
 moved in nex' do' this mawnin', Derry." 
 
 " Well . . . what 'bout 'em? " 
 
 " Nothin' . . . 'ceptin' on'y that they is got twins 
 th'ee months old!"
 
 POPPY PASSES
 
 POPPY PASSES 
 
 ELLICK PINCKNEY sank twin rows of glis- 
 tening teeth into a crisp, juicy winesap. 
 He relaxed luxuriously in the moth-eaten 
 upholstery and allowed his eyes to dwell with in- 
 finite appreciation on the curry, marvellously 
 garbed figure of Poppy Blevins. 
 
 Poppy was extremely restful on the eyes. She 
 was considerably shorter than the elongated Ellick 
 but nature and applied science had conspired to 
 make of her a creature desired by men. 
 
 She was a woman of culture, of poise and of 
 fascinating 6lan. Her complexion was a rich 
 chocolate, her wealth of hair a bewitching blend 
 of inherited kink and carefully cultivated straight- 
 ness. She had wide-open, flashing eyes and a vain- 
 pirish art in using them. Every move was har- 
 mony to which her rich contralto voice played 
 obligato. 
 
 Ellick sighed. " You sho' is a woman to do any 
 man proud, Poppy." 
 
 " Huh ! Ain't you men never think of nothin' 
 new to tell a gal?" 
 
 " I reckon others is tol' you that befo', ain't 
 they? " he inquired jealously. 
 
 " Reckon so." She smiled with satisfaction and 
 placed one laced boot carefully atop its mate while 
 she shamelessly angled for further flattery. " I 
 ain't see what's so 'tractive bout'n me." 
 
 243
 
 244 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "I does," returned Ellick wistfully, "an' I 
 reckon either I ain't the on'y one." 
 
 She raised her eyes swiftly. " Meanin' which? " 
 
 " Acey Upshaw ! " The name spewed from be- 
 tween his lips with a nuance of intransigent dis- 
 taste. 
 
 Poppy Blevins shrugged. " Mebbe so he does." 
 
 " I ain't like that man, Poppy." 
 
 " Neither he don' like you." 
 
 " If 'n you an' me was engage' " hopefully. 
 
 " We ain't." 
 
 " We was built fo' one 'nother, Poppy. We likes 
 the same things, an' " 
 
 " Coul'n't git 'em if'n we was married," she re- 
 torted practically. " W'en I marries, Ellick, I 
 marries fo' love; but also I is gwine marry a man 
 which c'n s'phot me in the way I been use' to. 
 You know puffec'ly well. . . ." 
 
 " My business is goin' good." He envisioned his 
 tiny shoe repair shope with its antique equipment 
 and its perturbing cloudiness of title. " Goin' 
 good . . ." he echoed with less confidence. 
 
 " 'Tain't yourn! " flashed the girl. 
 
 " Will be." 
 
 " You ain't never paid Acey Upshaw that last 
 'stalment, is you? " 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 " When you gwine pay it? " 
 
 " Pretty soon," he answered vaguely. " Soon's 
 I git the money. If'n 'twas anybody 'ceptin' oP 
 Acey I wouldn't min', but that or secon'-han' irniny- 
 tation of a wore out firecracker woul'n't give his 
 own mother a 'stension on a note. He ain't good 
 fo' nothin' 'ceptin' on'y c'lectin' dollars."
 
 POPPY PASSES 245 
 
 " They's worser faults than what that is, Ellick," 
 
 " I was a bohn idjit to buy that shoe shop offen 
 Acey. On'y I wan'ed to git a business of my own 
 so's you woul'n't half to marry no man what hel' 
 a job. An' I'd own it, too; come him to give me 
 a sixty-day 'stension. I been soht of thinkin', 
 Poppy soht of thinkin' mebbe you him 
 mebbe if 'n you ast him " 
 
 The radiant butterfly shrugged with vast indiffer- 
 ence. She had as little real interest in Ellick's 
 business affairs as she had understanding of them. 
 " Ise got troubles of my own, Ellick." 
 
 "Soht of which?" 
 
 " I got a hearin' from my sister today. She 
 'lows my or man gotten eight hund'ed dollars 
 from the railroad count'n they cut his lef ban' 
 off an' they's cornin' out heah to make visit with 
 me." 
 
 "All of them?" 
 
 She nodded. " Whole crowd : Mom an' Pa an' 
 Lithia. Letter said they was leavin' Sat'dy, gittin' 
 heah Sunday night an' fo' me to 'range so's they 
 c'n boahd whar I is at." 
 
 " Whar they livin' at now? " 
 
 " Cha'leston." 
 
 " South Ca'lina? " 
 
 " Uh-huh ! An' they ain't gwine do nothin' 
 'ceptin' on'y be in the way, Ellick. I jes' ain't need 
 'em. Nor neither they ain't gwine like it heah 
 count'n they is from Cha'leston." 
 
 " What that got to do with it? " 
 
 " They is two kin's of niggers," the girl an- 
 swered profoundly, " Cha'leston niggers an' nig- 
 gers. Cha'leston niggers is diffe'ent from other
 
 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 niggers an' they never fit in nowheres else 'scusin' 
 on'y w'en they is caught young like what 1 was. 
 They ain't country nor neither they ain't city. 
 They ain't much of anythin'. They ain't got no 
 style. They talks funny. I reckon they is gwine 
 'barrass me sumthin' terrible w T hile they is heah, 
 Ellick ; less'n my f rien's he'p me out by takin' them 
 off'n my han's." 
 
 " You ain't shame' of yo' folks, is you, Poppy? " 
 She shook her head impatiently. " I ain't shame' 
 of them s'long's they ain't heah. But w'en they is 
 heah I is in bad. I an' them don' move in the 
 same soht of sassiety. How you reckon they is 
 gwine look 'longside by sassiety wimmin like Pearl 
 Broughton an' Cha'ity Driver an' Imigene Rush 
 an' lone Segar an' Gussie Muck an' Mallissie Cheese 
 an' Narcissy Moultrie an' Vistar Goins? How you 
 think my folks is gwine ac' 'long with them ladies? 
 Cha'leston niggers ain't got on'y one idea, Ellick, 
 an' that is how long ontil the nex' meal is. 
 What they ain't got is no soul. An' they's more'n 
 a few of these heah wimmin in this town, Ellick, 
 which would be pow'ful glad to sneer at me 'cause 
 my folks ain't swell like what theirs is. I reckon 
 my fambly stahted back jes' bout'n far as theirs 
 done." 
 
 " Even if they ain't travel so fast sencst, huh? " 
 " Tha's it/' She paused and glared a challenge 
 at Ellick. He plunged hopefully. " Now, if'n you 
 was married to me, Poppy " 
 
 " I ain't an' I ain't aimin' to be. Guess a father 
 an' a mother an' a frowsy oF sister is 'nough for 
 one gal without she takes a husban' too." 
 
 " Mebbe they ain't on'y gwine stay a few days,"
 
 POPPY PASSES 247 
 
 he encouraged, sensing the depths of her misery 
 over the impending visit. 
 
 " You ain't know my oF man," she gloomed. 
 " He c'n do nothin' better an' longer'n any man I 
 knows. He is gwine remain heah ontil that money 
 is all gone an' then mos' likely Mom'll be doin' 
 washin' an' Lithia'll have a job somewheres an' 
 he won't want to go back. An' as fo' Lithia 
 she's 'bout as bad. You ain't never saw no gal 
 like what she is, Ellick. All she wears clothes for 
 is to keep from goin' nekkid. She ain't got no mo' 
 style'n a fried oyster. She sho' is diffe'ent from 
 what I is." 
 
 Ellick gazed appreciatively at the exquisite 
 Poppy, fashion plate of the coloured social set. 
 Poppy's wardrobe was as much of an eight-days' 
 wonder as its source was a mystery. No one under- 
 stood quite how she did it. True, she hired out 
 as nursegirl and for her undeniably efficient serv- 
 ices received four dollars each and every Saturday 
 night. But the wages didn't tally with her wealth 
 of crepe-de-Chine and Georgette waists, her glori- 
 ously plaid skirts, her high, laced boots, her sheer 
 silk hosiery. 
 
 The general public did not know that Poppy's 
 shibboleth was clothes. It didn't understand that 
 she bought her garments second-hand from the 
 young unmarried daughter of the household wherein 
 she worked nor that she cheerfully did much extra 
 labour for the possession of beautiful and one-time 
 expensive garments. Poppy's passion for pretty 
 clothes took the form of miserliness carried to the 
 ultimate, and their attainment the only goal to- 
 ward which she was willing to expend effort. la
 
 248 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 all other things in life she was supine: too jelly- 
 fishy even to be described antagonistic. Of course 
 with her rainbow raiment was the inevitable per- 
 quisite of social recognition . . . and beyond that 
 twin triumph she had no thought. 
 
 Poppy was vividly aware that she was perhaps 
 the prettiest girl in the city's Afro-American 
 younger set. She set an immense value on her 
 looks. And she had deliberately planned to capi- 
 talize her. beauty by mercenary marriage. 
 
 Had Poppy been governed in the slightest degree 
 by the dictates of what passed muster as her heart 
 she would long since have returned an affirmative 
 answer to Ellick's constant and passionate avowals 
 of love. But at best her affection for him was 
 shallow albeit it was as deep and unselfish a love 
 as she was capable of harbouring. Of other suit- 
 ors she had at least two score but they were ambi- 
 tionless men who worked as elevator boys, second 
 assistant janitors, salaried taxi drivers, delivery 
 men . . . with weekly wages ranging from four to 
 eight dollars. They were automatically beyond 
 the pale. Only Acey Upshaw remained with El- 
 lick on the eligible list. 
 
 Acey was rich. Acey's dear departed father had 
 owned a small farm adjoining one from which a 
 few drops of oil had been squeezed some three years 
 previously Acey at that time being the proprie- 
 tor of the Star Shoe Repairing Parlour We Fix 
 Them Good While You Wait: a one-man estab- 
 lishment with possibilities and little else. 
 
 The process of producing a little oil from the 
 innards of the farm adjoining the Upshaw prop- 
 erty had been negotiated by a promoter who was a
 
 POPPY PASSES 249 
 
 past master in the gentle art of fooling all of the 
 public some of the time. In the enthusiastic rush 
 which followed, Acey's father sold out for five 
 thousand dollars. Some said the shock killed him. 
 Certainly he became entirely defunct. 
 
 He was buried with pomp by the Over The River 
 Burying Society of which he was past president. 
 The funeral was quite the longest which the quiet 
 little country town had seen in years. Acey did 
 his ex-parent proud by generously furnishing a full 
 brass band and refreshments for more than two 
 hundred joyfully earnest mourners. After the 
 brief formalities attendant upon settling the cash 
 estate, Acey returned to the city of his choice and 
 branched out as part owner of a flourishing taxi- 
 cab business. 
 
 For awhile he clung to the shoe shop, his motives 
 being part sentimental and part practical he had 
 difficulty in locating a purchaser. Five months 
 previously Ellick Pinckney had nibbled then 
 fallen. Ellick signed a contract which had been 
 drawn up by a keen negro lawyer, made a small 
 first payment, paid again at the end of a two- 
 months' period, made still another contribution to- 
 ward the purchase price when four months had 
 elapsed and now faced the grim necessity for final 
 payment at the termination of the sixth month 
 distant some thirty days. 
 
 The original contract had been drafted in the 
 days when Acey and Ellick were pals, before the 
 sinister influence of rivalry had builded a barrier 
 of hatred between them. Ellick now knew that 
 Acey desired nothing so much as the opportunity to 
 retain both The Star Shoe Repairing Parlour and
 
 250 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 the money paid out by the unfortunate Ellick. 
 
 From the standpoint of the frankly mercenary 
 Poppy, marriage to Acey was a very good thing 
 indeed. True, insofar as her personal preferences 
 were concerned, she favoured wifehood to the easy- 
 going, good-natured, society-loving Ellick. Ellick 
 was a city product, born and bred. Acey was con- 
 genitally provincial and had resided in a metro- 
 politan atmosphere for less than five years. 
 
 But he was hopelessly enmeshed in the mesmer- 
 ising spell of Poppy's radiant personality and prom- 
 ised to be a good thing as a husband. Certainly 
 there was no doubting his ownership of the ducats 
 necessary to supply her with the sensuous comfort 
 of clothes and ease and social eminence which con- 
 stituted her paramount desires. 
 
 Poppy was canny. She was sufficiently fond of 
 Ellick to content herself with a little less affluence 
 as his wife, and so she had cleverly kept the two 
 men dangling whilst she cold-bloodedly weighed 
 them in the balance. She knew that either man 
 was hers on the moment's asking. She reduced 
 them both to the state of mental seethe where each 
 imagined that he was pledged to her while under- 
 standing clearly that she was in no way committed 
 to him. Meanwhile she was content with the joint 
 and several adoration and smugly cognizant of the 
 fact that their voluntary servitude enhanced her 
 social prestige. 
 
 So she had drifted on in a state of blissful lassi- 
 tude, worrying little about today and less about 
 tomorrow, enjoying herself hugely and content to 
 let her destinies shape themselves . . . and now 
 this had come !
 
 POPPY PASSES 251 
 
 Poppy was exceedingly peeved over the impend- 
 ing visit. She was frankly and thoroughly 
 ashamed of her family. Of her sister she knew 
 little : Lithia had been a wild-eyed, skinny-legged 
 street urchin when Poppy departed the ancestral 
 homestead in Kirkland Lane, but she knew that 
 her parents were uncouth and destined not only to 
 remain out of the picture of the city's negro society 
 set but to destroy her prestige as well. 
 
 Background was essential to Poppy. She was 
 entirely superficial herself and a single false note 
 was certain to beget clanging discord. She af- 
 fected regal airs and had boasted of her family. 
 She was thoroughly detested for the superiority 
 which she assumed and there were many society 
 matrons eager for a chance to lop off her social 
 head. She knew that her bubble was about to go 
 bust which meant, of course, that in order to save 
 her face she would be forced into immediate matri- 
 mony with Acey Upshaw a state which she did 
 not particularly desire despite the obvious and 
 manifold benefits accruing from such a match. 
 There was, in her two-bit soul, a wee mite of a 
 spark which impelled her to hesitate before relin- 
 quishing all hold on the faithful and enraptured 
 Ellick. 
 
 As to the inevitability of the family visit 
 Poppy knew that there was nothing to do and she 
 did it. When the Southern train from Atlanta 
 wheezed under the shed of the handsome terminal 
 station, Poppy was there to meet it ; and with Poppy 
 were Ellick Pinckney and Acey Upshaw. 
 
 Poppy, grim-jawed and angry-eyed, had bedecked 
 in raiment of such glory that it promised to dazzle
 
 252 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 her unwelcome family into immediate and complete 
 subjection. Her hat was a Copenhagen-blue velvet 
 affair with a red turkey wing and a vermilion ro- 
 sette. Her coat suit was a rich maroon serge, 
 braided with navy. Her belt was wide and shiny 
 and crimson. Her waist was the flesh colour of 
 white folks. Her stockings were grey silk, em- 
 broidered in white, and her twelve-inch laced boots 
 were mouse-coloured. She carried an ornate bag 
 made of brocaded ribbon and a jangling vanity set 
 of silver plate. 
 
 Nor were her cavaliers lacking in sartorial ele- 
 gance. They stood nervously beside her, wary of 
 her captious mood: Ellick, rangy and powerful; 
 Acey, short, slender, and, in the matter of com- 
 plexion, the least African of the trio. The men 
 wore pearl grey hats, spats to match and carried 
 suede gloves and polished canes. 
 
 The passengers streamed through the under- 
 ground passage and up the wide concrete stairway 
 to the exit gates. Poppy watched with anxious, 
 staring eyes. Acey saw them first and discreetly 
 fought back a chuckle. " Heah they comes," he 
 announced positively. 
 
 Lithia Blevins led the way and the combination 
 of a long and tiresome day-coach journey and poor 
 electric lights didn't give Lithia any the best of 
 the deal. She was about the height and general 
 dimensions of her sister and the contour of her 
 face was pleasing. But she was more than a little 
 haggard and worn and was wrestling earnestly with 
 two sagging, battered suitcases. Her costume was 
 absurd enough for a stage version of the Yankees' 
 idea of the Southern negro. Her hat was a ridicu-
 
 POPPY PASSES 253 
 
 lous ante-bellum, dun-coloured affair made utterly 
 grotesque by what had once been a feather. Her 
 waist and skirt formed a nondescript combination 
 mercifully concealed by a frayed coat. Her ho- 
 siery was of cotton and her shoes enormous and 
 too fondly worn. 
 
 The parents -" Huh !" diagnosed Ellick pri- 
 vately, " they ain't nothin' but jes' on'y niggers ! " 
 
 The visiting Blevinses were properly awed by 
 their daughter's elegance and Lithia shied nerv- 
 ously from the two resplendent escorts. They 
 passed through the coloured waiting-room and 
 emerged on Twenty-sixth street where, at a 
 grandiose signal from Acey, Clarence Carter 
 whirled his taxi to the curb and they piled in. 
 
 The distraught Poppy, terrorized by the cer- 
 tainty that the realization was destined to be even 
 worse than the nightmare of anticipation, took 
 them to her boarding establishment where she had 
 arranged to house them during their sojourn so that 
 she might have them more completely under her 
 thumb. 
 
 Once at the house Lithia grabbed a suitcase, ex- 
 cused herself and begged permission to " wash up 
 a li'l bit." The Blevins parents seated themselves 
 in dumb resignation and Ellick and Acey stood 
 nervously by a window. Ellick winked. " That 
 Lithia she ain't spoke ontil yet, is she? " 
 
 " Nope." 
 
 " An' the ol' folks : reckon they is. dumb, too." 
 
 " They ain't never rode in no autymobile befo', 
 I'm bettin'," snapped Acey. " They ain't got no 
 call comin' to a real city." 
 
 They turned their eyes toward the dazzled par-
 
 254 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ents: Mrs. Blevins unconscionably portly and su- 
 perlatively black ; Blevins pere shrivelled and wiz- 
 ened and topped with a nap of close, kinky hair. 
 Into the mind of both leaped the same thought: 
 these were the persons from whom the incomparable 
 Poppy was sprung. For the first time they were 
 struck with the idea that Poppy might be some- 
 thing less than divine. They were awakened to 
 the fact that she might have human faults, not the 
 least of which was exaggerated ego. 
 
 Poppy slammed into the room, seized her par- 
 ents' luggage and tossed it unceremoniously into 
 their room. " Ain't you better go tidy up, Mom? " 
 
 " Hah ! " Mom's heavy jowls quivered with mer- 
 riment. " Reckon yo' ol' Mammy don' need no 
 tidyin' up." 
 
 " If'n you want to change yo' dress " 
 
 " Whuff o', Chile? Reckon dis dress been good 
 enough." 
 
 " Lemme take off yo' hat. I 'clare, Mom, you is 
 still wearin' yo' winter hat." 
 
 "G'wan, Gal. I been wearin' dat hat fo' five 
 yeahs. Ain't nothin' wrong wid dat hat. If dey 
 was it would of done wore out befo' dis. Miss Far- 
 rington what lives on Tradd street gimme dat hat 
 an' her's quality folks. Reckon I is gwine be 
 wearin' dat hat fo' 'nother five yeahs." 
 
 She might have rambled on indefinitely but 
 Poppy impatiently cut her short. She heckled her 
 mother and she snapped at her father until finally 
 Mom Blevins could stand it no longer : " Lis'en 
 heah at what I is sayin' Poppy Blevins : yo'd better 
 keep a civil tongue 'tween dem lips o' yourn or 
 dey's gwine be plen'y action 'roun' whar you is at
 
 POPPY PASSES 255 
 
 an' you sho' gwine know all bout'n it. I ain't 'low 
 no nigger gal to talk to me like what you is been 
 doin' ... an' ifn my own daughter tries it 
 huh! 'twouldn't be de fust time I tanned you! " 
 
 Poppy flounced from the room. She wanted to 
 think things over. Obviously she had started off 
 on the wrong tack. Her strategy needed altera- 
 tions. She sat moodily on the edge of the bed 
 and meanwhile Lithia re-entered the parlour. 
 
 The two men sat up and gasped audibly. Lithia 
 had undergone a transformation. She was wearing 
 a clean gray skirt and a white shirtwaist which 
 was alluringly open at the throat. Her hosiery was 
 cotton and her shoes brogans . . . but somehow the 
 men forgot that: they w r ere looking at the newly- 
 brushed, crinkly hair and the the Oh ! 
 Lithia was smiling . . . that was the keynote of 
 the transfiguration. 
 
 Lithia had a way of smiling : it seemed to lift her 
 in a trice from the commonplace to the ethereal. 
 And with the change of clothes she had acquired 
 an ease of manner just sufficiently tinged with mod- 
 est diffidence to intrigue Ellick Pinckney's inter- 
 est. She was a new and interesting type to him. 
 Too, she was sufficiently like Poppy in face and 
 figure immediately to pass as a beautiful woman. 
 But the beauty of her face was different. There 
 was an unsophistication, a softness, which Poppy 
 did not have. 
 
 She carried a pillow from the sofa and placed 
 it behind her mother's head. " Feel comfortumble, 
 Mom?" 
 
 Mom sighed. "That shuah is good, Lithia. 
 Mebbe yo' Pa. . . ."
 
 256 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Pa glanced nervously about the room. " Kin 
 I?" 
 
 " Shuah," laughed Lithia encouragingly. 
 " Heah ! " She fished into his pocket and pro- 
 duced a reeking corncob pipe and a sack of granu- 
 lated tobacco. She filled the bowl and tamped it 
 expertly. Then she held the match and he puffed 
 contentedly. Lithia turned toward the men. " Pa 
 ain't hisse'f without he ain't got his pipe," she 
 explained. 
 
 "I I bet you is a good cook," commented El- 
 lick without understanding what prompted the re- 
 mark. 
 
 The girl laughed musically. " Reckon I is 
 kind of. Mos' Cha'leston niggers cooks good." 
 
 " Y'ever work out ? " 
 
 " Co'se. I is cook fo' some quality folks down 
 to de Batt'ry." 
 
 Ellick sighed. " Poppy ain't much cook. She's 
 mostly sassiety." 
 
 "Ain't she beautiful?" 
 
 " Kinder like what you is. An' they say she's 
 a good nu'se. But cook ! Huh ! on'y think to eat 
 she ev' made fo' me was some wonder san'wiches." 
 
 " Wonder san'wiches? " 
 
 " Yeh ! " he grinned. " You wonder whar the 
 meat is at." 
 
 Lithia threw back her head and laughed ring- 
 ingly. Ellick liked to hear her laughter. He 
 wracked his brain for something else funny. He 
 glanced around for Acey and found that gentleman 
 deep in conversation with Old Man Blevins. As 
 for himself, he didn't particularly miss Poppy. 
 
 " Ain't nev' been to no big city befo', is you? "
 
 POPPY PASSES 257 
 
 Nope." 
 
 " Reckon I is gwine half to show you the sights. 
 This is a pow'ful fine town. How 'bout gwine to 
 a movie with me tomorry night? " 
 
 Lithia glanced apprehensively toward Poppy's 
 door. El lick intercepted and interpreted the look. 
 " Tha's all right with her. Me'n Poppy's sich close 
 frien's it's sorter up to me to show her sister a 
 good time." 
 
 Lithia accepted the invitation with alacrity and 
 when Poppy returned to the room fifteen minutes 
 later she found her sister cosily ensconced in the 
 corner with Ellick Pinckney. She shrugged with 
 regal indifference and attached Aeey Upshaw unto 
 herself. If her plan of campaign was to inspire 
 Ellick with jealousy she failed miserably 
 at least insofar as outward appearance was con- 
 cerned. 
 
 Ellick and Acey departed at the same time. 
 They walked together to the corner because their 
 paths happened to lay in the same direction and 
 not because they liked one another. But when 
 Acey would have passed on, Ellick stopped him. 
 "Acey!" 
 
 "Yeh?" 
 
 " Bout'n that money I owes you on the shoe 
 shop " 
 
 " What 'bout it? " 
 
 " I needs a sixty-day 'stension." 
 
 " Huh ! Reckon 'stensions ain't my business, 
 Mistuh Pinckney." 
 
 " But ifn I ain't got the money? " 
 
 " Tha's yo' lookout, Mistuh Pinckney. I is got 
 plen'y good security an' a contrac'."
 
 258 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " But you is a'ready been paid mos' all what is 
 due." 
 
 " Mos' all ain't all. You is got thutty days to 
 pay the rest of the balance an' you take my adwice 
 an' do it. Tha's all what I is got to say bout'n 
 it. Good night, Mistuh Pinckney ! " 
 
 Acey turned away and Ellick watched his de- 
 parting figure forlornly. Ellick was decidedly up 
 against it. It was of course patent to him why 
 the needed extension was refused. Sans business, 
 Ellick would be placed with the matrimonial also- 
 rans and Acey left alone on the eligible list, and 
 of the fact that Acey wanted Poppy there was no 
 doubt nor did Ellick blind himself to the cer- 
 tainty that Poppy was the sinister motivating in- 
 fluence in Acey's detestation of him. 
 
 Ellick, too, coveted Poppy for better or worse; 
 he w r as enthralled by her exotic radiance and had 
 aspired to her for so long that it had become a 
 habit. More, Acey's dislike was reciprocated with 
 interest and therefore the winning of the delectable 
 Poppy would constitute a personal triumph of no 
 mean proportions. 
 
 On the other hand Ellick's little shoe business 
 meant much to him. He was an expert shoe re- 
 pairer and had long been ambitious to own his own 
 business. The following morning he carried his 
 troubles to the office of Lawyer Evans Chew in the 
 Penny Prudential Bank Building, the nine-story 
 office structure which was the pride spot of Dark- 
 town's civic centre. 
 
 Lawyer Chew listened attentively, a portentous 
 frown on his face; long, slender fingers toying 
 with a writ of garnishment which lay on his desk.
 
 POPPY PASSES 259 
 
 "You say yon is got a contrac', Brother Pinck- 
 ney? " 
 
 "Uh-huh!" Ellick produced from an inside 
 pocket a frayed and thnmb-marked document. 
 " Heah 'tis." 
 
 Lawyer Chew arranged horn-rimmed spectacles 
 on his nose and perused the paper meticulously. 
 
 At length he laid it aside and cleared his throat. 
 " You er a is in a bad way, Brother Pinck- 
 ney." 
 
 "Ain't it the truth?" 
 
 " I sispec' this contrac' was drawn up by Lawyer 
 Artopee Gaillard, wa'n't it? " 
 
 " Sho' was." 
 
 Lawyer Chew tchk'd commiseratingly. " Too 
 bad too bad!" 
 
 "Wha's too bad?" 
 
 " This heah contrac'. Ise afraid you is in a bad 
 way, Brother Pinckney." 
 
 Ellick passed a red handkerchief across a perspir- 
 ing forehead. " Lis'en heah at me, Lawyer Chew : 
 I ain't come to you fob to heah I is in bad. I come 
 to learn how I c'n git out." 
 
 " Wen a 'torney ain't got no more conscience 
 than what Lawyer Gaillard is got " 
 
 "You mean they ain't no way outen that con- 
 trac'?" 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " But Lawyer Gaillard said " 
 
 " It don't make no diffe'ence what he said, 
 Brother Pinckney. In er a contrumversy 
 in which a written instriment is concerned they 
 ain't no oral testimony allowed to be intrumduced 
 to modify or explain that which is wrote, same bein'
 
 260 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 a provision of the Statute of Frauds cal'clated to 
 'liminate to a minimum all chancst of persons bein' 
 particeps criminis when they is a mutual and sev- 
 e'al desire to break said contrac' as hereinbefo' 
 mentioned." 
 
 Ellick shook his head dazedly and came up for 
 air. " Wen you c'lects a fee, Lawyer Chew, they 
 ain't no client gwine say you ain't gave 'em enough 
 words." 
 
 " What I mean is," explained the counsellor with 
 dignity, " that what any one said when this con- 
 trac' was drawn don't make no dift'e'ence whichso- 
 ever. What is wrote an' duly attested therein is 
 all which you is interes' in, an' said contrac' which 
 I now hoi's in my hand says that you is in a bad 
 fix." 
 
 " But s'posin' I don't raise that las' payment : 
 does he git his business back an' all what I is paid 
 out to boot? " 
 
 "" Unfortumlately he does. Ordinary he woul'n't, 
 but you is had the wrong procedure from the staht. 
 What you should have done was to transfer title 
 to yo'se'f an' give a mortgage; 'stead of w r hich you 
 is done contrariwise." 
 
 " Contrariwise how? " 
 
 " You signed that contrac' of yo' own free will 
 an' unblemish' volition, Brother Pinckney; an' 
 thereby you is gwine half to stan'. The money 
 what you is paid out stan's in the light of an option, 
 said option being forfeited autimatically an' in toto 
 case'n all payments ain't fo'thcomin' on the day 
 which they is due on." 
 
 "Oh! Lawdy . . . an' they ain't no way out?" 
 
 " No. Not onless fo' a c'nsideration properly
 
 POPPY PASSES 261 
 
 wrote an' inserted into this heah document, Mistuh 
 Acey Upshaw'd be willin' to exten' . . ." 
 
 " If'n Acey Upshaw owned all the gasoline in the 
 world, Lawyer Chew, he woul'n't even give me a 
 smell." 
 
 " You mean you an' him ain't friendly? " 
 
 " I an' him is lovin' the same lady, Lawyer Chew. 
 I reckon that makes you on'erstan' it somewhat 
 better now, huh? " 
 
 Chew nodded sagely. " It is clea'er ; much 
 clea'er. I see it with infumately greater cla'ity. 
 Could you borry this money elsewhere? " 
 
 " Not hahdly, 'specially like if what you says the 
 title on the shop ain't mine. OF Semore Mash by 
 might lemme have it ordinary, 'scusin' the other 
 day w'en I was laughin' at him on account what 
 'Bias Nesbit done to him bout'n that di'min' ring 
 of Elzevir's: you know, him an' Cass Driggers 
 bought a autymobile " 
 
 Chew grinned broadly. " I've heard about it. 
 How about Flo'ian Slappey? " 
 
 " He'd mos' prob'ly loant it to me in a minnit, 
 but he ain't heah. He's went to N'Yawleens fo' a 
 month. Now, if'n you had some extry cash ? " 
 
 " I is a lawyer, not no money-lender, Brother 
 Pinckney." 
 
 Ellick rose abruptly. " You ain't so durn' much 
 of either. Wen I come in heah to see you I ain't 
 had much hope. Now I ain't got none! " 
 
 Ellick was supremely gloomy during the bal- 
 ance of the day. Business was returning expenses 
 and a small profit, more than enough to provide 
 a fairly comfortable living for himself and an eco- 
 nomical wife, but somehow he was unable to get
 
 262 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 sufficiently ahead of the game to raise the cash re- 
 quired within thirty days by the adamantine Acey 
 Upshaw. 
 
 Acey was always a hard man to deal with, but 
 never harder than in this particular instance where 
 the grande passion had entered the game. The 
 encumbrance against Ellick's business was a hand- 
 ful of trumps which Acey was playing expertly, 
 secure in the knowledge that nothing but cash and 
 plenty of it could save Ellick from business dis- 
 aster. Nor was Acey particularly worried over 
 the fact that the girl of his choice preferred the 
 rival other things being equal. He knew that 
 other things were not going to be equal, and real- 
 ized that with Ellick reduced to a job he would 
 have a clear road to her hand. And Acey desired 
 Poppy as he had coveted few other things in his life. 
 
 He took her to the movies that night and swelled 
 with triumph when, in the lobby, he nearly collided 
 with Ellick Pinckney and Lithia Blevins. The 
 contrast between the sisters was striking. Lithia 
 looked pretty no denying that but she lacked 
 the style, the poise, the urbanity of Poppy. 
 
 Ellick experienced a slight twinge of jealousy at 
 sight of Poppy on Acey's arm, and was surprised 
 that the jealousy was not stronger and of longer 
 duration. Perhaps, he thought, it was because the 
 surest road to Poppy's heart at present was by way 
 of taking the unwelcome and hopelessly provincial 
 sister off her hands. Perhaps . . . well, dawg- 
 gone it ! Lithia was Poppy's sister and the sister 
 of such a glorious creature as Poppy couldn't help 
 being interesting. 
 
 Across the creamy crests of ice-cream sodas, the
 
 POPPY PASSES 263 
 
 deliriously happy Lithia and the surprisingly con- 
 tented Ellick chatted. " You is sho' a pretty gal, 
 Lithia." 
 
 " Huh ! Poppy's the pretty one." 
 
 " Oh ! she's swell, of co'se. . . ." 
 
 " Poppy is change' considerumble, Misto' Pinck- 
 ney." 
 
 " If n she was ever like you, she sho' has." 
 
 " She ain't like the Cha'leston niggers no mo* 
 not a tall." 
 
 " You ain't got no call castin' spurchuns on 
 Cha'leston niggers, Miss Lithia. Not if' n you is 
 like them." 
 
 " Dey is a'right, I reckon. Co'se dey ain't high- 
 tone' like what Poppy an' her frien's is . . ." 
 
 " High-tone' ain't ev'ythin', Miss Lithia. They's 
 other things which counts. Bein' willin' to work 
 an' a good cook an' not too-'stravagant an' all like 
 that." 
 
 " Mebbe you is right, Mistuh Pinckney . . . but 
 I an' Poppy sho' is diffe'ent." 
 
 "Bless Gawd!" 
 
 "What you mean?" 
 
 " Nothin' nothinM On'y ifn they wa'n't no 
 diffe'ence in folks, Miss Lithia, they woul'n't be 
 much interestin' tha's all what I means." 
 
 " Tha's sho' the truth, Mistuh Pinckney." She 
 drained her glass and rose. " Ise got to be goin' 
 home." 
 
 He arched his eyebrows. "Home? A'ready?" 
 
 " Yeh y'see, sencst his accident Pa ain't much 
 able to do things fo' hisse'f an' Mom, she's so fat, 
 he don' like her foolin' 'roun' him, so I sort of looks 
 after him."
 
 264 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "Ain't that a heap of trouble? " 
 
 " Trouble ain't no wuss'n what you thinks it is, 
 Mistuh Pinckney. It's thinkin' makes it hahd." 
 
 Lithia was prominent in Ellick's dreams that 
 night. And the following evening when Acey 
 Upshaw at Poppy's suggestion took Lithia un- 
 der his wing, leaving Ellick to the more resplendent 
 sister, Ellick discovered to his surprise that he 
 was discontented. And as, on alternate nights, 
 he escorted Lithia to movies and dances and muni- 
 cipal band concerts, he became more than ever 
 impressed with the striking variation in type which 
 may exist in a single family. 
 
 In brief, Ellick discovered that he was not only 
 liking Lithia more, but Poppy less. Lithia was 
 broad figuratively as well as literally and she had 
 a fine, noble conception of the husband's position 
 in the domestic realm. She realized, for instance, 
 that the wife should work and contribute her earn- 
 ings to the general fund ; that no matter how afflu- 
 ent the husband, the wife had no right to squander 
 his money for worthless clothes and fancy fol-de- 
 rol. She believed that a wife was created for the 
 sole purpose of ministering ceaselessly to the crea- 
 ture comforts of her chosen man . . . and into 
 Ellick's mind there seeped the idea that it was 
 Lithia and not Poppy in whose arms he could find 
 contentment. 
 
 He longed to go to Acey and relieve that gentle- 
 man of the alternate evenings which Poppy forced 
 him to spend with Lithia. But he didn't do it 
 and Ellick's evenings with Poppy became things 
 of torture to him; first because he had plumbed 
 the depths of Poppy's selfish nature and secondly
 
 POPPY PASSES 265 
 
 because he writhed with consuming jealousy at 
 every thought of Acey's bland, smiling face close 
 to that of the adored Lithia and he was afraid 
 that his request might result in open hostilities in 
 case Acey exhibited a disinclination to agree. 
 
 " I ain't min' takin' Lithia out mo' evenin's," he 
 informed Poppy one evening. She flashed him a 
 sharply suspicious glance. 
 
 "Reckon you don't. Not by the way you ac's, 
 anyways." 
 
 "Now, Poppy you is the 'sinuatinest woman. 
 They ain't nothin' atween I an' Lithia. On'y I 
 kind of thought mebbe yo'd rather be with Acey 
 Upshaw." 
 
 " Huh ! I ain't sayin' I would an' I ain't saying 
 I wouTh't. But I'll say this much fo' Acey he 
 ain't fickle like what you is. Acey would ruther 
 be with me than with Lithia. She's ignorumt 
 an'" 
 
 " I reckon you is gwine say Acey is smaht enough 
 to see that an' I ain't, huh?" he said testily. 
 
 " You is at libbity to take what I says any way 
 you likes, Mistuh Pinckney. This heah is a free 
 country. You an' Acey is diffe'ent kin's of men. 
 He ain't havin' his haid tu'ned jes' cause'n a gal 
 looks at him sof an' tender. Lithia is went to you' 
 haid, Mistuh Pinckney " 
 
 " I ain't kickin' at you goin' with Acey Upshaw, 
 is I? " 
 
 " 'TwouFn't do you no good if'n you did." 
 
 " Reckon you'lfbe sayin' nex' you is gwine marry 
 him." 
 
 " I ain't sayin' I ain't." 
 
 Ellick felt that he should be broken hearted.
 
 266 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 But instead he was surprised by the feeling of re- 
 lief which surged over him. " You always has 
 loved Acey more'n you has me." 
 
 " I ain't got no respec' fo' a man which is done 
 what you is done." 
 
 "Meanin' which?" 
 
 " Went an' forsook me fo' a country nigger like 
 Liiliia jes' cause'n she makes cow-eyes at you." 
 
 " Tha's yo' own bohn sister what you is stra- 
 doosin', Poppy." 
 
 " If'n I cain't talk against my own sister, who 
 c'n I talk against? I asts you that, Mistuh Pinck- 
 ney. What I was gwine say is that Acey ain't 
 never lost his haid." 
 
 "Acey ain't got so much haid to lose," retorted 
 Ellick angrily. " An' furthermo' an' also if'n you 
 p'efers Acey to me I reckon I ain't gwine raise no 
 howl." 
 
 " I does p'efer him ! " she flashed. " An' if'n yo'd 
 ruther be with Lithia. . . ." 
 
 He rose slowly. " Reckon I would." 
 
 " Ise gwine marry Acey so there ! " 
 
 " Reckon I ain't cryin' over that, Poppy Blevins. 
 Lithia's the kin' of wife I wants." 
 
 " You go an' git her, then," raged Poppy. " Go 
 on an' git her you no-'count, fickle, wuthless nig- 
 ger, you! What you think I cares bout'n a man 
 like what you is, anyways, when I c'n git one like 
 Acey Upshaw? You an' Lithia is two of a kin' 
 y'orter be raisin' cotton on a plantation 'stead of 
 livin' in a city. They ain't enough sperrit in the 
 two of you to run a kerosene lamp. Ise wishin' 
 you good day, Mistuh Pinckney an' w'en you
 
 POPPY PASSES 267 
 
 sees Acey jes' tell him Ise waitin' fo' him: that's 
 all jes' tell him I wants him." 
 
 Ellick Pinckney made his exit with as great dig- 
 nity as was possible under the circumstances. 
 Once outside, he threw back his shoulders and in- 
 haled a great breath of relief. 
 
 For the first time in three weeks, Ellick Pinck- 
 ney was happy. For the moment he almost forgot 
 the imminent fall of the Damoclean sword which 
 hung suspended over his little shoe shop. 
 
 He had admitted for many days that Lithia 
 Blevins was the woman with whom he wished to 
 share the joys and sorrows of the balance of his 
 life . . . but thought of Poppy had terrified him. 
 Poppy, he fancied, was in love with him and would, 
 perhaps, insist on marrying him whether or no. 
 He now felt that he was free. 
 
 The sensation was exquisite. He had effected a 
 miraculous escape from a life of servitude to a 
 shallow, selfish, vain woman. 
 
 There was also more than a little satisfaction in 
 Poppy's genuine anger for by it Poppy had shown 
 plainly that she did care for him! Acey was a 
 good enough second choice . . . but he smiled sar- 
 donically as he recalled her bitter request : " Wen 
 you see Acey tell him I wants him ! " Grandstand 
 stuff. . . . 
 
 Suddenly Ellick Pinckney stopped short. His 
 lower jaw slowly sagged. His eyes opened wide. 
 His lips expanded into a grin and a chuckle issued 
 from between his lips. And finally he slapped one 
 broad palm resoundingly against his thigh. 
 
 "Dawg-gone!" he chortled. "Ise bettin' fo'
 
 268 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 bits 'gainst a hole in a pair of shoes it'll work! 
 Ding-bust. . . ." 
 
 The idea was inspirational and splendidly log- 
 ical. Ellick strode down the street with shoul- 
 ders swinging triumphantly and an interminable 
 chuckle agitating his cheeks. 
 
 The more he thought it over the funnier it was 
 and the more certain of success. There wasn't a 
 flaw in the scheme. Acey wanted Poppy, did he? 
 And Poppy spurned by Ellick desired Acey? 
 And Ellick needed Acey's good will? The circum- 
 stances dovetailed into a perfect whole. 
 
 Acey Upshaw rose hurriedly as his dark and par- 
 ticular aversion breezed into the office and slammed 
 the door. "What you want?" demanded Acey 
 curtly. 
 
 Ellick forcibly banished from his face all sem- 
 blance of happiness and in its stead summoned a 
 visible lugubriosity which had more or less effect 
 on the man opposite. Then Ellick sighed. He was 
 an artist at sighing, was Ellick. " Acey," he 
 opened, " me'n you ain't been lovin' one 'nother 
 much lately, is we? " 
 
 " No," shortly, " we ain't." 
 
 " We useter be good frien's, Acey." 
 
 " Useter ain't is." 
 
 " Frien'ship is the Lawd's noblestes' gif to man 
 Rev'end Arlandas Sipsey say that in Chu'ch yes- 
 tiddy." 
 
 " I don' 'ten' his Chu'ch." 
 
 " Now, Acey. . . . Anyways, I been thinkin' what 
 a shame 'tis we is done discontinued from bein' 
 frien's like what we useter be."
 
 POPPY PASSES 269 
 
 Aeey was vaguely impressed but suspicious. 
 "What all this mean, Ellick?" 
 
 " It means," sighed Ellick, " that I is done saw 
 the error of my ways, Acey, an' I is came to you 
 with the ban' of frien'ship outstretch' in forgive- 
 ness. I is came, Acey, cause'n we is 'lowed a 
 woman to bust in between us " 
 
 Acey stiffened. " I ain't 'scussin' wimmin with 
 you, Ellick Pinekney." 
 
 " Lis'en heah to what I is sayin', Acey ; you an' 
 me is been lovin' the same gal, ain't we? " 
 
 " Yeh." 
 
 " An' us both jes' wants to see her real happy, 
 don't we? " 
 
 " Tendin' on which " 
 
 " 'Pendin' on nothin', Acey Upshaw. I says to 
 myse'f, I says if n I loves a lady I wants to see 
 her happy an' if n she c'n be happier with you than 
 what she c'n with me why, I reckon I woul'n't 
 be much man ifn I ain't tell you: ain't it the 
 truth? " 
 
 Acey gasped. He was beginning to get the drift 
 of Ellick's conversation and was astounded by the 
 display of magnanimity. " You you is been 
 talkin' to her? " 
 
 " Yeh," sadly. " I lef her no mo'n fifteen min- 
 utes ago." 
 
 " Why you is come to me? " 
 
 " Acey Upshaw that they gal don' no mo' love 
 me than she loves Semore Mash by. The man what 
 she is lovin', Acey Upshaw is you! It's done 
 busted my hea't to tell you this, Acey but we use- 
 ter been Men's an', like what I done said, ifn it'll
 
 270 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 make her happier to be yo' wife I guess Ise man 
 enough to let you know that she is waitin' to home 
 fo' you to come an' ast her will she marry you." 
 
 Acey's head wobbled. He braced himself more 
 firmly that this epochal display of altruism and 
 self-sacrifice might not fell him. " You you is 
 comin' heah to tell me she loves me an' I is 
 to marry her? " 
 
 "Uh-huh!" 
 
 " You is sho' sho' bout'n that, Ellick? " 
 
 " Ain't she done tol' it to me less'n fifteen min- 
 utes ago? " 
 
 " Geeemanety ! " Acey's hand shot out. " What 
 you is said bout'n f rien'ship sho' is the truth, Ellick 
 Pinckney. It's the noblestes' thing what man is 
 got an' Ise proud we is frien's again." 
 
 " Bless Gawd ! " intoned Ellick fervently as their 
 hands met and clasped. 
 
 "Amen!" 
 
 " Jes' like ol' times, ain't it, Acey? " 
 
 "You is a noble frien', Ellick Pinckney^ An' 
 I is mean an' small. I is shame' of myse'f w'en I 
 thinks of how I was gwine squeeze you outen that 
 shoe business " 
 
 "Don' you worry bout'n that, Acey. Even if 
 you takes my shop away from me like what you is 
 got a legal right to do, I ain't gwine raise no howl. 
 * If'n yo' brother paste you on one cheek, give 'im 
 a shot at 'tother.' Tha's my motter where my 
 frien's is concerned at, Acey." 
 
 Acey brushed one hand across his eyes and seated 
 himself at the desk. For a minute he wrote busily 
 and then extended a paper to his friend. " I is 
 learn' my lesson, Ellick. They is a 'stension on the
 
 POPPY PASSES 271 
 
 business fo' ninety days marked fo' val'able con- 
 sidumration. 'Tain't gwine be writ in the Heav- 
 umly book that Acey Upshaw wa'n't man enough to 
 meet a frien' halfway." 
 
 " You is a good man, Acey. An'," glumly, " they 
 is yo' hat. Go an' make that gal happy, Acey. 
 Make her happy, an' my blessin's go with you." 
 
 Acey departed swiftly and Ellick followed him 
 to the street with his lips parted in an unholy 
 smile of triumph. He almost convinced himself 
 that he had done a noble and generous act. And 
 it had worked Ye Gods! but it had worked! 
 He was rid of Poppy, repossessed of Acey's inval- 
 uable friendship, held a ninety-day extension on the 
 business and last and most important had 
 cleared for himself a path to the hand of the divine 
 Lithia with its promise of matrimonial bliss. 
 
 Ellick walked slowly down the street toward the 
 house where the Blevinses boarded. He was feel- 
 ing very, very much at peace with himself and the 
 world. He was positive that by this time Lithia 
 would be at home. . . . 
 
 He turned in at the gate which hung limply 
 on a broken hinge. The door, opening from the 
 tiny veranda into the living-room, was ajar. El- 
 lick tiptoed across the porch and pushed the door 
 gently. He entered the room. 
 
 Then he started back. For the room was already 
 occupied. It was occupied by a man and a woman 
 and the woman was tightly clasped in the arms of 
 the man. 
 
 The man was Acey Upshaw ! 
 
 The woman was Lithia! " 
 
 And Acey joyfully welcomed the unfortunately
 
 272 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 successful matchmaker, who gazed in pop-eyed 
 horror at the illuminating tableau. " It's fitten you 
 should be the fust to congratumlate us, Ellick," he 
 said, " because they never was no nobler deed than 
 what you done in sendin' me to Lithia w'en I 
 knowed you was lovin' her yo'se'f." 
 
 " You you mean you an' Lithia is engage' ? " 
 
 " It was you done it, Ellick. If n you hadn't of 
 
 toP me 'bout her bein' in love with me I never would 
 
 of had the nerve to prepose. Ain't you gwine be 
 
 happy with us, Ellick? " 
 
 Ellick nodded slowly, vainly striving to recon- 
 struct a shattered cosmic scheme. " Yeh ! Ise 
 happy . . . on'y, My Gosh! Acey you sho' does 
 work fast ! "
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 
 
 THE patient was exquisitely miserable. He 
 lay tensely in the chair, popping eyes fo- 
 cussed on the plump hand of Miss Corena 
 Clemmins, trained nurse. Miss Clemmins' fingers 
 were wrapped competently around a pair of shiny 
 cow-horn forceps recently rescued from the steamy 
 depths of the sterilizer. She stood by in efficient 
 silence, waving the forceps gently and profession- 
 ally deaf to the gurgling protests of the prospective 
 victim. 
 
 Dr. Brutus Herring, Dentist, glanced in a brief 
 and satisfied manner toward his trained assistant; 
 tested his hypodermic and slowly sucked into its in- 
 nards the local anesthetic which he was about to 
 inject. Then he turned calmly toward the patient. 
 
 " Open yo' mouth, Brother De Lee." 
 
 " Wh-what you gw r ine do? " 
 
 " Jes' on'y a little nerve blockin'. One jab an' 
 it's all over." 
 
 " With me? " 
 
 Dr. Brutus Herring nodded to the nurse, who 
 placed a strong, capable hand on the patient's 
 forehead and forced him back against the head- 
 rest. The dentist inserted his needle and jabbed. 
 Mr. De Lee promptly responded with a wiggle of 
 agony and a long-drawn whooshy howl. Then he 
 relaxed. " That don' hu't no mo'," he admitted. 
 
 Dr. Herring stepped back. " Co'se not. Ain't 
 
 275
 
 276 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 I done said it wa'n't gwine hu't on'y fo' a secon'? 
 Now we'll wait ontil it gits 'nesthetized tho'ough." 
 
 Two minutes later he relieved Miss Clemmins of 
 the forceps and turned again toward the chair. 
 Cold beads of perspiration stood out on the choco- 
 late forehead of Mr. De Lee. " D-Doc, you shuah 
 it ain't gwine hu't? " 
 
 " Not a bit not a bit. Open yo' mouth." 
 
 The mouth opened slowly reluctantly. Then 
 it closed again and the man in the chair sighed with 
 prayerful relief. " Doc, they is some one rappin' 
 at yo' do'." 
 
 The knocking sounded again : an insistent, nerv- 
 ous tattoo. Miss Clemmins crossed the room and 
 the door swung open. 
 
 The man who stood in the doorway teetering on 
 the balls of enormous feet was very short, very thin 
 and unbelievably black. Small as he was, his 
 clothes fitted him a trifle soon. He wore large, 
 gold-rimmed spectacles and a portentous frown. 
 His voice, startling in its volume, boomed across 
 the room. 
 
 " Mawnin' mawnin'. Busy, Dr. Herrin' 
 busy?" 
 
 The dentist nodded. " Mawnin', Dr. Atcherson. 
 Yes, I is ve'y busy." 
 
 "Doin' what? what?" 
 
 " I is about to puffo'm a extordonta." 
 
 Dr. Elijah Atcherson, M.D., snorted. "Huh! 
 Nothin' on'y a tooth-pullin'. Nothin' tall but that. 
 Guess you don' require Miss Clemmins' service fo' 
 such as that." 
 
 Dr. Herring stiffened to the full of his six mag- 
 nificent feet of light-brown manhood. " Reckon
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 277 
 
 I is the bes' judge of that, Dr. Atcherson, an' I 
 judges I needs her." 
 
 " Simple little thing like" 
 
 " If n you was a dentis', Dr. Atcherson, yo'd 
 mebbe know that a extordonta is a se'ious opera- 
 tion. I needs Miss Clemmins an' I is gwine have 
 her/' 
 
 "Fumadiddles!" bellowed the little man. 
 " What you need her fo'? " 
 
 " S'posin'," clinched Herring, " s'posin' my pa- 
 tient should get a fractured jaw what then?" 
 
 " Yo'd call in a M.D. tha's what." 
 
 Mr. De Lee sat up very straight in the chair, a 
 light of inquiring horror in his eyes. " Oh ! my 
 Gawd! Doc. . . ." 
 
 " Lay back down, Brother De Lee. I ain't gwine 
 hu't you but I hires a perfessional nu'se to in- 
 suah my patients the bes' intention what is pos- 
 sible case'n things goes wrong." He turned huf- 
 fily toward the little man in the doorway. " I is 
 got to ast you to escuse me, Dr. Atcherson. I ain't 
 holdin' no clinic." 
 
 " But I need Miss Clemmins now. I is got a 
 coinpoun' fracture case out near Potterville, 
 an'" 
 
 " I employs Miss Clemmins much as you does, 
 Dr. Atcherson. Wen I completes with her se'v- 
 ices you c'n have her, an' not befo'." 
 
 Dr. Elijah Atcherson banged the ground-glass 
 door and puffed into his own handsomely furnished 
 office. He slapped himself down in a swivel chair, 
 cocked his big feet on the desk, lighted a panatela 
 and puffed great clouds of smoke into the room. 
 
 From this point of vantage Dr. Atcherson gazed
 
 278 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 through the open door of his office into the large 
 ice-cream parlour on which the suite of offices occu- 
 pied by himself and Dr. Herring abutted. Behind 
 the marble-topped fountain a tall, slender, yellow 
 negro concocted fizzy drinks with an expert hand 
 and two energetic little coloured boys scurried 
 from crowded table to crowded table waiting on 
 the press of coloured humanity which sought solace 
 from the sweltering heat of the July day in the 
 delectable, cool specialties obtainable only in The 
 Gold Crown Ice Cream Parlour. 
 
 Visible evidence of the prosperity of The Gold 
 Crown, which was owned jointly by Dr. Atcherson, 
 Dr. Herring and March Clisby, the tall soda dis- 
 penser, was too much for the ebony physician. He 
 bounced his skinny, wizened figure from the chair, 
 shoved his hands into trousers pockets and strolled 
 magnificently forth to inspect the cash register. 
 March Clisby greeted him with a genial grin: 
 " The Ol' Gol' Crown been cashin' in th'ough the 
 hot spell, Doc." 
 
 " That so? That so? " The huge voice rumbled 
 through the store and customers looked up hastily 
 to seek its source. Many bowed to the great physi- 
 cian, but he condescended to return only a few 
 of the obeisances and those thus noticed swelled 
 with pardonable pride. Dr. Elijah Atcherson, 
 leading coloured surgeon of the state, was the ac- 
 knowledged bell-wether of the city's Afro- American 
 flock. 
 
 A large, throaty yell, emanating from the office 
 of Dr. Brutus Herring, split the buzz of conversa- 
 tion in the Gold Crown. Dr. Atcherson shrugged 
 and minced back toward his office for hat and Bos-
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 279 
 
 ton-bag. "Call it tooth-pullin' or call it extor- 
 donta," he philosophized, " Ise bettin' they ain't no 
 diffe'ence in the way it hu'ts." 
 
 The door of the dentist's office swung back and 
 Mr. De Lee, sadly the worse for wear, staggered 
 weakly into the hall and out through the side door. 
 Behind him came the cool, competent Corena Clem- 
 mins. She presented herself before Dr. Atcherson. 
 " You want me to go with you into the country, 
 Doctor? " 
 
 " No," roared the great man testily. " I was jes' 
 aimin' to take you joy-ridin'. Tha's all. Get yo' 
 hat an' get it quick ! " 
 
 Miss Clemmins got it. Five minutes later she 
 seated herself beside him in the high-powered, ex- 
 pensive roadster. He let in his gears and they 
 rolled away into the heat. 
 
 The city sweltered in the merciless blaze of a 
 midsummer sun. It was such a July day as can 
 only come in the South after a cool, pleasant June. 
 The heat waves danced crazily above the steaming 
 road; the sidewalks received the rays of the sun, 
 intensified them, and radiated them back into the 
 heat saturated atmosphere. The big office build- 
 ings, rising high in the air, were peopled at every 
 window by clerks seeking the zephyrs which were 
 that day non-existent. 
 
 Corena Clemmins relaxed in the luxurious up- 
 holstery and closed her eyes. It was an immense 
 relief after the strain of maintaining a semblance 
 of neatness in the stuffy offices. Unconsciously 
 her body inclined toward the skinny little doctor. 
 The heat the arduous labours of the past few 
 hours the exhaustion begotten at a barbecue the
 
 280 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 previous night the natural drowsiness of the 
 day: they conspired diabolically and Miss Corena 
 Clemmins dozed. And, dozing, she slid closer to 
 the doctor and her head rested lightly on his right 
 shoulder ; lightly enough to fail to disturb his pre- 
 occupation. 
 
 And with that tableau in the car they passed a 
 slow-moving, city-bound trolley. On the street car 
 was an exceedingly ample, flamboyantly dressed 
 lady of colour who saw the automobile. More, she 
 glimpsed the contented smile which played about 
 the lips of the doctor and the blissful expression 
 of the nurse. She did not know that at the mo- 
 ment the doctor was exultingly rehearsing a re- 
 cent and eminently successful operation for rup- 
 tured appendix nor that the nurse was asleep. She 
 saw only the beatitude of the couple. She cared 
 to see nothing else. The fire of a vast and righteous 
 wrath flamed in her eyes. 
 
 The Amazonian creature was Mrs. Dr. Elijah 
 Atcherson ! 
 
 For seventeen miles Dr. Elijah Atcherson headed 
 into the country. He passed through two or three 
 scattered suburbs resplendent with cosy bungalows 
 nestling behind green, velvety lawns. Children 
 romped about in defiance to the humidity. Even 
 the stately pines seemed to have wilted before the 
 vicious attacks of the sun, and only a few grey 
 clouds hovering over the crest of Red Mountain to 
 the south gave any faint promise of relief. 
 
 The doctor and nurse reached the home of their 
 patient, a drab, unpainted, ramshackle cabin 
 perched precariously on the side of a steep, rocky 
 hill. The unfortunate, a little negro boy twelve
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 281 
 
 years of age, screamed with terror at sight of his 
 visitors and the doctor forced his distracted par- 
 ents from the room. Then he seated himself be- 
 side the bed and conversed quietly with the pain- 
 wracked youngster. The rumble remained in his 
 big voice but the quick querulousiiess was gone. 
 
 At length the compound fracture was set, the arm 
 in splints and the boy smiling brightly. In his 
 palm was a bright, new half dollar gift of Dr. 
 Atcherson. The man of medicine and his nurse 
 stepped onto the tiny veranda and just as they did 
 so a clap of thunder reverberated across the valley. 
 
 A pale grey haze had come over the sun. The 
 fleecy grey clouds had blackened ominously. A 
 jagged lightning flash punctured the grey pall and 
 Corena Clemmins instinctively sidled closer to the 
 doctor. That individual shrugged philosophically, 
 put up his curtains, roared instructions to the 
 grateful parents and signalled Miss Clemmins to a 
 place at his side. 
 
 They had gone little more than two miles down 
 the valley when the storm broke with a fanfare of 
 heavy thunder and blinding lightning. Then the 
 heavens opened and the rain came down heavy, 
 swishing sheets which transformed the red clay 
 road into a sea of slimy mud and battered in 
 through the slit between the two halves of the 
 windshield. The car skidded dangerously from one 
 side of the road to the other. One curtain ripped 
 loose with a noise like the cracking of a blacksnake 
 whip and the torrent poured in, drenching the 
 nurse to the skin. 
 
 Dr. Atcherson handled his car in grim-jawed si- 
 lence. Then without a word, he swung in from the
 
 282 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 road and braked down in the lee of a little cabin. 
 He alighted and knocked. There was no response. 
 He tried the door, it yielded to his touch and he 
 entered. The cabin was deserted. He beckoned to 
 the nurse and she joined him. 
 
 " They ain't no use tryin' to git home in this," 
 he commented loudly. 
 
 She shook her head. " We'd git bogged shuah." 
 
 One hour passed: two three. Heavy dusk 
 settled swiftly into black night. At six o'clock 
 Dr. Atcherson took his place at the wheel, started 
 his motor and tried to move the car. But the ma- 
 chine had other ideas regarding the propriety of 
 driving under such adverse conditions. It refused 
 to budge. The motor roared and the rear wheels 
 whirred angrily as they kicked up a stream of red 
 clay. The doctor alighted and rejoined Corena 
 Clemmins. 
 
 At eight o'clock the rain stopped as suddenly as 
 it had started. The clouds scudded from the face 
 of a brilliant full moon and the skies became pep- 
 pered with bright, twinkling stars. By nine o'clock 
 the doctor had put on his chains and extracted the 
 car. But the going toward town was slow and 
 heavy. At half past ten they pulled up before the 
 Gold Crown Ice Cream Parlour. 
 
 The Gold Crown was ablaze with light. The 
 crowd within was dense and extra help had been 
 impressed to wait upon the voracious patrons. The 
 bedraggled doctor and nurse crossed the sidewalk. 
 Then, with his hand on the screen door the doctor 
 paused suddenly and would have turned away. 
 But he was too late. 
 
 His wife had seen him !
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 283 
 
 She swept grandiosely toward the door from the 
 rear of the Gold Crown, rendolent of cheap perfume, 
 a- jangle with ornaments, and with an expression 
 of uncompromising venom on her heavy, black fea- 
 tures. 
 
 " Lustisha looks like trouble an' heaps of it," 
 soliloquized the doctor weakly. 
 
 The crowd was willing to scent good sport. 
 There was a sudden cessation of chatter and a gen- 
 eral craning of necks toward the scene of the im- 
 pending domestic drama. No one knew exactly 
 what was coming but there was no mistaking the 
 ample militancy of the little doctor's large wife. 
 
 Elijah Atcherson stepped within and strove 
 vainly to summon to his aid the ponderous dignity 
 with which he subjugated every one in the world 
 with the single exception of his consort. But it 
 was no go. He was too small, too skinny, too 
 bedraggled, too woebegone. His clothes were plas- 
 tered with wet, sticky mud; his spectacles awry, 
 his huge feet mud-coated and resembling a pair 
 of ditch-digging instruments after a hard day's 
 work. The voice of Mrs. Lushtisha Atcherson cut 
 nasally through the crowded store. 
 
 " Is you have a good time on yo' joy-ride?" 
 
 Dr. Atcherson gazed beseechingly into the eyes 
 of his wife. " Now, Lustisha . . ." he wheedled. 
 
 " Don't you staht ' Now-Lustisha-in' ' me, 'Lijah. 
 I asts you again an' fo' the secon' time: is you 
 have a good time on yo' joy-ride? " 
 
 " I been out on a perfessional call." 
 
 "Huh! Pow'ful funny perfession you is got. 
 Where you go to? " 
 
 " Two miles this side of Potterville."
 
 284 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " How long was you at yo' patient's house? " 
 
 " 'Bout 'bout an hour." 
 
 "An' you been five hours gittin' back huh?" 
 
 " The sto'm, Honey. . . ." 
 
 " Don' you go tellin' me no raalorna bout'n you 
 got stuck in the mud 'cause I is been married to 
 you too long to stan' fo' any sech a story as that." 
 
 " The roads was slipp'y " 
 
 " So was you. I is had enough of these heah 
 goin's-on, 'Lijah Atcherson. I is bringin' all these 
 folks to bear witness I is stood my las' insult at 
 yo' ban's." 
 
 " What you mean : insult? " 
 
 Lustisha struck an attitude : clenched hands rest- 
 ing on that portion of her anatomy possessed of 
 greatest beam. " If'n 'tain't a insult fo' a married 
 man to go traipsin' 'roun' with a yaller hussy " 
 
 Corena Clemmins, up to this moment a passive 
 if angry spectator, stiffened. She shoved be- 
 tween the harried man of medicine and his glori- 
 ously angry spouse. " Tha's enough of that, Mis' 
 Atcherson ! " 
 
 The crowd eddied closer about the prospective 
 combatants. 
 
 "'Nough of which?" 
 
 " Stradoosin' me." 
 
 Lustisha sniffed her disdain. " I ain't got no 
 words fo' you, gal." 
 
 " Yo'd better have words fo' me, Mis' Atcherson, 
 an' lots of 'em," snapped Corena firmly, " because 
 if'n I ain't git a 'pology quick Ise gwine have you 
 'rested fo' criminal liable." 
 
 " You is on'y jes' talkin' with yo' mouth." 
 
 " You is the one been talkin' with yo' mouth, Mis'
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 285 
 
 Atcherson, an' less'n you 'pologizes quick you is 
 gwine be mighty sorry you done same." 
 
 Lustisha gazed first at Corena, then at the cower- 
 ing figure of her husband . then at Corena again. 
 There was no hint of leniency in Corena's attitude 
 and Lustisha experienced a vague doubt as to the 
 wisdom of her public diatribes. She hedged. " I 
 ain't on'y said my husban' " 
 
 " You done call me a hussy. Tologize an' 'polo- 
 gize quick ! " 
 
 " Well . . . I'll admit I ain't know it." 
 
 " You is gwine admit I is a lady." 
 
 Lustisha tossed her head angrily. "All right, 
 be a lady if'n you wants. You cain't make me 
 mad." 
 
 With that she turned away, signally defeated in 
 the first open clash with her husband's office assist- 
 ant and keenly conscious that she had become a 
 laughing-stock. Corena, smiling triumphantly, 
 sailed through the store toward the offices in the 
 rear. Elijah Atcherson followed fearfully in her 
 wake. In the sanctity of his office he faced her: 
 his expression a masterpiece in concentrated lugu- 
 briousness. 
 
 " We is done played hell now, Miss Clemmins." 
 
 " Mebbe so you is, Dr. Atcherson. Me, I ain't got 
 nothin' whichever to do with yo' dimestic affairs." 
 
 " Yes, you is." 
 
 " How come? " 
 
 " You is done make a fool outen my wife " 
 
 " The Lawd done that." 
 
 " I ain't 'sputin' with you. But what you done 
 out they in public she is gwine git revenge fo'." 
 
 " I ain't skeered of her."
 
 286 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 "But I is," he postulated dolefully. "She is 
 gwine take it out on me w'en we gits home." 
 
 " Hrnph ! If n I was a hen-pecked man like what 
 you is which I ain't, bless Gawd! I'd puffo'm 
 a operation fo' the removal of a weddin' ring." 
 
 " Not a chancst to d'vohce her." 
 
 " How come not? " 
 
 " She won't let me." 
 
 Once in the bedroom of their pretentious home on 
 Eighteenth street, Lustisha opened fire. Elijah, 
 stripped of his pomposity, sank supinely into a 
 chair and listened limply. Lustisha said every- 
 thing about him she could think of and many things 
 regarding Corena Clemmins which she dared not 
 say in public. Finally, however, she ran out of 
 breath. Elijah looked up meekly. 
 
 "That all?" he inquired. 
 
 " No 'tain't." 
 
 He sighed resignedly. " Go ahead. Might's well 
 finish 'count you got such a good staht." 
 
 " You is got to make public respitution." 
 
 "Fo' what?" 
 
 " Fo the insult you an' that hussy made on me 
 t'night." 
 
 " How we insulted you? " 
 
 " Nev' min' how : f ac' is, you done it. An', like 
 what I is said you is got to make public respitu- 
 tion." 
 
 "How? How?" 
 
 " You is got to decharge that woman." 
 
 He sat up straight in his chair, the one surviv- 
 ing spark of belligerency flaming. " Won't ! " 
 
 "Will!" 
 
 " I say I won't."
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 287 
 
 " You got to." 
 
 "Cain't!" he clinched. 
 
 " What you mean : cain't? " 
 
 " Ain't got no cause." 
 
 " Joy-ridin' " 
 
 " I is tellin' you I ain't hahdly knowed she was 
 with me " 
 
 " Lis'n heah at what I is sayin', 'Lijah Atcher- 
 son : I seen that gal ridin' with you seen her 
 with my own eyes an' she had her haid on yo' 
 shoulder. An' don' you go tellin' me a man don' 
 know w'en a good-lookin' gal has her haid on his 
 shoulder." 
 
 " You is all wrong/' 
 
 " I seen it from the street car." 
 
 " You is the seein'est woman, Lustisha," he ex- 
 claimed impatiently. " You sees things which ain't 
 never was." 
 
 " That they woman is got you fooled, 'Lijah At- 
 cherson. Ev'y man an' woman in our sassiety set 
 is laughin' at you." 
 
 " Whaffo' they laugh at me? " 
 
 " Fo' how that woman is niakin' a monkey outen 
 you. She's a nachel-bohn warn pi re an' you ain't 
 got sencst enough to see it. She is wainpin' you 
 on account you is rich an' pretty soon they is gwine 
 be some blackmail." 
 
 " Huh ! Lustisha you is been gwine to too 
 much movies." 
 
 " What I sees I knows," she retorted hotly. 
 " An' what I knows I knows, an' I knows she ain't 
 nothin' 'ceptin' on'y a pe'fessional wampire." 
 
 He laughed heavily. "Haw ... I is a swell 
 specimen fo' a wampire to pick on, ain't I? "
 
 288 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 " Skinny little no-'count runts like what you is, 
 is the easiest pickin's what they is fo' wampires, 
 'Lijah." 
 
 He waved his hand shortly. " They ain't no use 
 makin' no mo' talk 'bout'n it noways, Lustisha. 
 Corena Clemmins is under contrac' with me an' Dr. 
 Herrin' ontil nex' April an' I an' him ain't gwine 
 th'ow away no eight hund'ed dollars by lettin' her 
 go even if he was willin'." 
 
 Her lips compressed into a straight red line. 
 "An' he ain't?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " He likes her? " 
 
 "Shuah does." 
 
 " Hmph ! An' him a engage' man ! " 
 
 " My Gawd ! Lustisha, ain't you nev' gwine be- 
 lieve us'n don' regahd her noways 'ceptin' on'y as a 
 nu'se?" 
 
 " I ain't nev' gwine disrumgahd the fac' that a 
 man c'n git all the medical degrees which is an' 
 they ain't no guarantee wrote on his diploma which 
 says he is gwine be blind to a pretty face an' a 
 good figger. Ise jes' tellin' you this you is got 
 to get rid of her or they is gwine be trouble 
 a-plen'y. Heah me?" 
 
 " Heahin' you is the easiest thing they is." 
 
 " All right. Now I is th'ough." 
 
 Elijah Atcherson nodded. " Bless Gawd ! " he 
 said under his breath. 
 
 For several days thereafter Mrs. Lustisha Atcher- 
 son maintained a strange and unnatural silence to- 
 wards her spouse regarding the radiant trained 
 nurse. Elijah was at first darkly suspicious, and 
 finally philosophically reconciled to the temporary
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 289 
 
 peace. He was not given to anticipating the to- 
 morrows of his domestic life. Too well he knew 
 that they were certain to come, and come kicking. 
 His wife was a veritable genius at discovering new 
 reasons for, and methods of, household torture. 
 But the seed of doubt had been planted and Dr. 
 Elijah Atcherson did a little watching on his own 
 hook. 
 
 Thinking it over in the light of the recent ulti- 
 matum, he decided unanimously that Corena Clem- 
 mins was entirely too pretty a person for the worka- 
 day world. He decided further that there might 
 only might, mind you be some ulterior motive 
 in her assiduous attention to duty. She was al- 
 ways willing to hold private confabs with the doctor 
 or his dentist friend. True: they were no excep- 
 tions she was popular with all men. She seemed 
 to strive for such popularity. She even spent a 
 great deal of her time in the company of the sar- 
 torially perfect Mr. March Clisby, manager of The 
 Gold Crown Ice Cream Parlour, and owner of a 
 one-third interest therein. 
 
 Dr. Atcherson knew considerable about medicine 
 and surgery but his ideas of vampiring were hazy. 
 He fancied that all vampires worked this way : hav- 
 ing many men on a string men of money and in- 
 fluence. Men whose standing in the community 
 was a commercial asset. Of course it was ridicu- 
 lous that she could see anything attractive in his 
 shrivelled self, yet it was undeniably true that she 
 never shirked an opportunity to be with him. 
 Ergo: she must have an ulterior motive. Or two 
 or three of them. 
 
 Personally Dr. Atcherson wanted nothing to do
 
 290 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 with her or any other woman. He desired nothing 
 so much as the complete elimination of the sex 
 starting with his wife. His experience with woman 
 had been in the singular number, possessive case 
 and productive of a large, gloomy gob of unrelieved 
 misery. Still, until his wife's tongue again dripped 
 vitriol he was content to let well enough alone and 
 went his way with such contentment as he could 
 summon not however, entirely free from doubt 
 of Corena Clemmins' motives. 
 
 But if Elijah succeeded in hypnotizing himself 
 into the belief that because his wife had suddenly 
 become tight-lipped on the subject of vampires in 
 general and Miss Corena Clemmins in particular, 
 she had forgotten her humiliation in the Gold 
 Crown Ice Cream Parlour or her hatred of Miss 
 Clemmins he was wrong. 
 
 Lnstisha Atcherson became a snooper. And she 
 did her snooping usually around the Gold Crown 
 Ice Cream Parlour where from her vantage point 
 at a certain seat at a certain table she could see 
 much of what transpired in the offices at the rear. 
 
 Lustisha, too, quickly learned that Corena was a 
 charmer of men. It was she who noticed two im- 
 portant things : first, that Corena was openly striv- 
 ing to ensnare the affections of Dr. Brutus Herring 
 and, second, that she was not unwilling to practice 
 on smaller fry: the potential victim in this case 
 being the immaculate March Clisby. 
 
 Finally Lustisha's patience was rewarded. 
 Early one sultry July afternoon she swept indig- 
 nantly out of Dr. Herring's office and made her 
 way with all the speed her bulk permitted to the
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 291 
 
 home of Miss Mayola Kye, fiance of Dr. Herring. 
 
 Mayola's demure little face, and tiny, rounded 
 figure gave no hint of the battle spirit which 
 smouldered within her. At heart she was a fiery 
 little thing; intensely in love with the handsome, 
 debonair, Herculean Dr. Brutus Herring and in- 
 sanely jealous. At sight of her visitor Mayola ex- 
 perienced a qualm and then another qualm. She 
 didn't like Lustisha because Lustisha's visits in- 
 variably boded trouble of some sort. And trouble 
 was something which Mayola avoided whenever she 
 saw it first. Now, however, there was no escape 
 so Mayola made the best of a bad situation. 
 
 " Evenin', Mis' Atcherson." 
 
 " Evenin', Miss Kye. How you is this evenin'? " 
 
 " Tol' able tol'able, thank you. How you is? " 
 
 "Mis'able!" snapped Mrs. Atcherson in her 
 nasal, high-pitched tones. " Jes' plain mis'able." 
 
 "'Count of which?" 
 
 " Men ! " 
 
 " Meanin' ? " 
 
 " All men, an' mos' pertickeler my husban'." 
 
 " Sho' now, Mis' Atcherson; they ain't nothin' 
 wrong with yo' husban'." 
 
 " Lot you know bout'n him." 
 
 " Don' he treat you good? " 
 
 "He'd better!" 
 
 " I is sho', Mis' Atcherson, that you is misundum- 
 stood sumthin'." 
 
 " I is been a innercent, trustin' fool, an' w'en I 
 fin's out what I fin's out today, Miss Kye, I says 
 to myse'f, I says : ' Us wimmin is got to stan' to- 
 gether.' Tha's jes' 'zac'ly what I says."
 
 292 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Mayola had no desire whatever to stand together 
 with Mrs. Atcherson, but she nodded approvingly. 
 "Ain't it the truth?" 
 
 " So I come right to you, Miss Kye, 'cause you is 
 the one pusson ought to know bout'n it even if it 
 hu'ts to heah it. I feel it's my bounden duty, Miss 
 Kye" 
 
 " You neeVt go worryin' yo'se'f " 
 
 " I knows it. But I is a cha'itable woman, Miss 
 Kye, an' I woul'n't go seein' no lady 'specially 
 a Lodge Sister, git into sech a fate. An' seein' as 
 you is a' ready engage' to him " 
 
 Mayola grew rigid. Her eyes dilated. " En- 
 gage' to which?" 
 
 " Brutus Herrin', ob co'se. Who else? " 
 
 " Wh-what 'bout Brutus? " 
 
 " Him an' that woman." 
 
 " I ain't quite on'erstan', Mis' Atcherson." 
 
 " That nu'se which him an' Dr. Atcherson is got 
 down to they office. She is a'ready mint my hus- 
 ban' ol' wampire ! " 
 
 Mayola's lips came together firmly. " I cain't 
 'low nobody to talk 'gainst my fiansay, Mis' Atcher- 
 son : not nobody." 
 
 " I ain't said nothin' ag'in him, is I? " 
 
 " You has 'sinuated " 
 
 " I ain't 'sinuated nothin' I ain't know is fac'." 
 
 Mayola was impressed in spite of herself. 
 What you is drivin' at? " 
 
 Lustisha rose. " Ifn you ain't interes' . . ." 
 
 " I is. 'Deed I is. Set down please." 
 
 Somewhat mollified, Mrs. Atcherson re-seated 
 herself. " They ain't nothin' I is savin' bout'n him 
 I ain't sayin' bout my own husban'. That warn-
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 293 
 
 pire nu'se that Corena Cleminins is wampin' 
 them men. . . ." 
 
 It looked like mere spiteful conjecture to Mayola 
 and she could not, in duty, sit idly by while this 
 stout creature traduced her beloved. " You know 
 what the poeck says in Latin, Mis' Atcherson 
 Honey swat key molly pants? " 
 
 " I ain't interes' in what no poeck says in Latin, 
 Miss Kye. I is interes' on'y in what niggers says 
 in English. An' what they does ! An' w'en a good- 
 lookin' young man gives a han'some woman a solid 
 goP ring of eighteen carrots, I reckon they ain't no 
 poecks gwine make me think they ain't suiuthin' 
 mo' to it than jes' on'y plutonic friendship." 
 
 " Who give which a gol' ring? " 
 
 " Brutus Herrin' give Corena Clemmins one. 
 Nor neither that ain't all, Miss Kye. Twas a ring 
 he made his ownse'f outen gol' which he had in his 
 office an' jes' fo' the pussonal sediment of it he 
 set it with a beautiful false tooth, 'stead of a df- 
 min'." 
 
 It was too much for Mayola. Some things she 
 might have overlooked but not this infamy. The 
 idea that her dearly beloved had with his own hands 
 created a ring and by way of exquisitely delicate 
 sentiment set it with a false tooth, prostrated her. 
 Her trim little figure grew tense and she leaned 
 forward in the chair: hands tightly clenched. 
 " You c'n prove that, Mis' Atcherson? " 
 
 Lustisha shrugged indifferently. "Ain't got to 
 prove it. You go ast him." 
 
 Mayola was galvanized into action. She rose 
 determinedly. " I is gwine do jes' that ! " she 
 snapped, and vanished within the house. When
 
 294 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 she emerged, dressed for the street, Lustisha had 
 disappeared. 
 
 Mayola went immediately to the offices in the 
 rear of the Gold Crown Ice Cream Parlour. 
 March Clisby beamed at her from behind the foun- 
 tain. " Evenin', Miss Kye." 
 
 "Evenin', Mistuh Clisby," came the frigid an- 
 swer. " Where Dr. Herrin' is at? " 
 
 " In his office." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 " Uh-huh." 
 
 " Where Miss Clemmins is? " 
 
 March Clisby glanced at her peculiarly. " In 
 the office with Dr. Atcherson. Why?" 
 
 Mayola's tense nerves jangled. She swung on 
 the unoffending soda king. " I knows a heap of 
 folks, Mistuh Clisby, which makes a good livin' by 
 mindin' they own business! " 
 
 What display of lovers' passion there was in the 
 meeting between Dr. Brutus Herring and the de- 
 sirable Mayola, had its source within his breast. 
 She was frigidly aloof. And she came to the point 
 with a directness that fairly flabbergasted him. 
 For a minute he was too startled to reply. She 
 stamped her foot impatiently : " Did you or di'n't 
 you give her a gol' ring which you made yo' own- 
 se'f an' set with a false tooth?" 
 
 " Why why Mayola. . . ." 
 
 " Is or ain't? " 
 
 " It it wa'n't on'y jes' a trifle." 
 
 "Then you did, huh?" 
 
 " Jes' a HT trifle, Mayola. On'y jes' " 
 
 She was perilously close to tears. " I is th'ough 
 an' done with you, Brutus Herrin'," she railed
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 295 
 
 passionately. " You an' that no-'count 'Lijah At- 
 cherson, both. Ain't you got sense enough to see 
 that woman ain't nothin' on'y a plain, common, 
 o'dina'y, ev'yday wampire which is came heah to 
 work you an' 'Lijah Atcherson on account you is 
 rich? Ain't that plain? Sho' 'tis an' you is 
 done fell fo' it ... tha's how come you come to 
 give her that ring which you made yo' ownse'f. I 
 reckon I is been a fool, Brutus Herrin'. But I 
 ain't gwine be no fool no longer'n what I is a'ready 
 been. Heah " she ripped from her finger the 
 handsome diamond engagement ring he had pre- 
 sented to her a few months previously. " Give 
 Corena Clemmins this heah ring, too. Reckon it'll 
 look pow'ful good 'longside of the one you made." 
 
 She swung toward the door but he stopped her. 
 
 "Mayola!" 
 
 " I ain't gwine make no mo' talk with you." 
 
 "Lemme 'splain." 
 
 " 'Splain to her. If'n you ever wants to 'splain 
 to me, Brutus Herrin', the fust thing you is got 
 to staht off with is to tell me you is done fired 
 her." 
 
 For perhaps five minutes after the door slammed 
 behind the girl of his heart, Dr. Brutus Herring 
 stood staring at the mute, mocking panels. The 
 ring ... of course he had given Corena the ring. 
 Corena was a good scout at least he had always 
 so thought. She had assisted wonderfully in his 
 work. She wky, dawg-gawn it! she was the 
 first nurse with whom he had ever worked who 
 was able to give gas successfully. And the ring 
 had been an innocuous token of his professional 
 esteem. Just because she had helpd him. . . .
 
 296 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 Corena why, dad-blame it! the woman was a 
 ha'nt. He realized suddenly that she was the shoal 
 upon which Dr. Elijah Atcherson's bark had foun- 
 dered. Into the mind of Dr. Herring there leaped 
 an old saying : " Where smoke is at they is boun' 
 to be a blaze ! " What if well, both Mrs. Atcher- 
 son and Mayola Kye had unqualifiedly dubbed Co- 
 rena a vampire. 
 
 Dr. Herring sank weakly into a chair. He felt 
 ill. In a second his well-ordered cosmic scheme 
 had gone flooie. Down the hall a door opened, 
 closed again, and he saw the fair Corena cross the 
 hall and enter the Gold Crown. March Clisby 
 edged ingratiatingly around the counter and Bru- 
 tus plainly saw the dazzling smile with which she 
 greeted the elongated man of business. There was 
 no misunderstanding that smile. It was the smile 
 which a woman reserves for the man she desires to 
 bewitch. Brutus recalled distinctly the number of 
 times she had bestowed such a smile upon him. 
 Was there no limit to the perfidy of a vampire 1 ? 
 He knew that she must have made capital of the 
 ring he had given her: else how did Mayola know 
 about it. The woman first skinny, bloodless Dr. 
 Atcherson, then himself and now March Clisby. 
 Decidedly the vampiriug business was on a boom. 
 
 He felt an impelling urge to talk it over. And 
 as co-employer of the pulchritudinous Corena he 
 sought Elijah Atcherson. 
 
 The doctor looked up testily as he entered. 
 " Busy doin' nothin' as usual," he roared in greet- 
 ing. " You dentis's is got a graf." 
 
 Brutus swelled with such mite of pride as he 
 was able to muster. " I is got a patient comin' in
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 297 
 
 half a hour," he retorted. " Epocoectomy an' or- 
 thodentia case both." 
 
 " If n you got all that on yo' min'," discouraged 
 the M.D., " what you come botherin' me about? I 
 is a busy man. Git out ! " 
 
 Brutus sank forlornly into a chair. "Atcher- 
 son," he opined gloomily, " sumthin' is got to be 
 did." 
 
 " Right fust off. An' that sumthin' is you is 
 got to git outen my office while I is busy." 
 
 " This is impo'tant." 
 
 " I guess I is got sumthin' mo' impo'tant than 
 what you is got." 
 
 " I is mentionin' Corena Clemmins ! " 
 
 Dr. Atcherson abruptly laid aside the microscope 
 slide he had been preparing. His narrow-lidded 
 little eyes glittered. "What 'bout her?" he bel- 
 lowed. What 'bout her? " 
 
 " She's a wampire ! " returned Brutus with all the 
 courage of his new-found conviction. 
 
 " Now lis'en heah at me, Brutus Herrin' ; if n 
 you is come in heah to dip yo' oah into my pus- 
 sonal an' dimestic affairs " 
 
 " This heah is my own affair, Atcherson. May- 
 ola Kye is done bust up our 'gagement skally- 
 hootin'." 
 
 Elijah chuckled with unholy glee. "Guess'n 
 you ain't gwine laugh at me no mo' 'cause of what 
 Lustisha done that night, huh?" 
 
 " I 'pologize," returned Brutus humbly. " To 
 you an' Mis' Atcherson both." 
 
 "Huh! Wha's that: what you is sayin' now? 
 You 'pologize to Lustisha, too? " Atcherson was 
 roaring bellicosely and waving his skinny arms in
 
 298 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 violent defense. " I is tellin' you now, man to man, 
 Brutus Herrin', what I is tol' you heahtofo' I 
 ain't nev' looked at that woman no other way 
 than " 
 
 " 'Tain't how you looks at wampires, Atcherson ; 
 it's all in how they looks at you," and Brutus 
 plunged into a detailed and heart-rending recital 
 of the circumstances leading to the ruination of his 
 might-have-been matrimonial bliss. " The result 
 of all of which is," he wound up, " that fo' our own 
 sakes an' fo' our dimestic peace an' happiness, we 
 is got to fire that gal." 
 
 " Contrac 1 ," raved Atcherson. " She is got a 
 contrac' ontil nex' April." 
 
 " We could offer a bonus " 
 
 "All right offer a bonus then. I ain't said 
 nothin' 'gainst it, is I? It's wuth a hund'ed dollars 
 to me to have a liT peace in my home oncet in 
 awhile. Give her a bonus an' let her go." 
 
 Brutus glanced nervously around the office. 
 "You is gwine help?" 
 
 " Not me." 
 
 " I is skeered to make talk with her alone. I is 
 li'ble to git comprimised." 
 
 " Huh ! Seems like you cain't git comprimised 
 no comprimiser than what you is a'ready. But," 
 valiantly, " if you insis's. . . ." 
 
 Dr. Brutus Herring timidly summoned Corena 
 from the Gold Crown, and in a still, small voice 
 offered her two hundred dollars cash in exchange 
 for her copy of their written contract. 
 
 Corena listened in tight-lipped silence. Abso- 
 lutely innocent, she was bulwarked with the fight- 
 ing sense of outraged virtue. She swung on Bru-
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 299 
 
 tus. " How come you to make me this heah propo- 
 sition now, Dr. Herrin'?" 
 
 " Jes' happen so." 
 
 "Sho'?" 
 
 " Absotively." 
 
 " Miss May ola Kye yo' fiansay wa'n't she in 
 heah a few minutes ago? " 
 
 Uh-huh." 
 
 " What she said .bout'n me? " 
 
 " Nothin'." 
 
 " Not even mention my name? " 
 
 " No. That is not perzac'ly." 
 
 " Hmph ! I reckon she is been joinin' in the 
 chorus of the song which Mis' Atcherson stahted, 
 ain't she?" 
 
 " Now, Miss Clemmins " 
 
 "Whyn't you fen' me when she said things 
 'gainst me, huh? Ain't neither of you men got no 
 gumption? Whyn't you 'fen' me when Mayola 
 Kye talked 'gainst me jes' now? " 
 
 Brutus tumbled into the trap. " How you know 
 she said things 'gainst you? " 
 
 " I know it now. An' I might's well tell you 
 both sum thin' so's they ain't gwine be no misun- 
 dumstandin'. W'en Mis' Atcherson stahted in on 
 me that night I been out in the sto'm with Dr. 
 Atcherson I knowed she was gwine try git rid of 
 me. An' I knowed if I quitted I'd say good-bye 
 to my reppitation as a lady. So I done saw Lawyer 
 Evans Chew an' showed him that contrac'. He 
 says that contrac' cain't be busted, an' that because 
 of its perfessional nature you is not on'y got to 
 keep on payin' me my salary but you is also got to 
 keep me workin'."
 
 300 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 The eyes of the unfortunate pair met and held. 
 Corena's attitude confirmed their worst fears. 
 She had them in her power just how and why 
 they didn't know and she had no intention of re- 
 leasing them. " Two hund'ed dollars bonus? " 
 tempted Brutus. 
 
 " Th'ee hund'ed?" dared Atcherson, the bellow 
 gone from his quivering voice. 
 
 " No ! Not th'ee hund'ed n'r neither a thousan'. 
 Yo' wimminfolks is set out to ruint my reppitation 
 an' they ain't gwine do it. I wants you both to 
 undumstan' I is a lady an' I is a nu'se also an' I 
 is got a contrac' which says I work heah on til 
 nex' April. Tha's all. Ifn you wan's me, gen'le- 
 men, on a perfessional matter, I will be findable in 
 the Gol' Crown Ice Cream Pa'lor." 
 
 The door closed firmly behind her. For five min- 
 utes there was nothing to be heard in the room but 
 silence and very little of that. Finally Dr. Elijah 
 Atcherson sighed. It was a deep, fervent, harried 
 sigh which rattled the window-panes. " Wimmin 
 is plumb hell," he remarked. 
 
 "Admittin' that," rejoined Brutus argumenta- 
 tively, " we is still got to consider how this heah 
 wampire is to be got rid of." 
 
 " Ain't you jes' heah her say she ain't gwine got 
 be rid of? Ain't you? " 
 
 "What she say ain't got nothin' to do with it. 
 She's plumb mad now an' she is got sumthin' up 
 her sleeve which we ain't want her to perduce. We 
 is got to get rid of her like a wisdom tooth which 
 is decayed." 
 
 " You do it then you is a dentis'."
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 301 
 
 " You claims you is got mo' brains than what 
 I is got." 
 
 "'Tain't no lawyer brain. An' even if 'twas, 
 they ain't no lawyer gwine help us out." 
 
 Brutus cogitated. " If n she'd on'y lef of her 
 own accord " 
 
 " If'n I ain't nev' had no su'gical cases 'ceptin' 
 simple appendectomy my reco'd would look awful 
 good." 
 
 "Even wimmin like her falls in love or sum- 
 thin'." 
 
 " Mos' usuamly sumthin'. Co'se we is got to git 
 her to lef us." 
 
 "How? If'n we on'y had one good frien'. . . ." 
 
 " We is, but he coul'n't be no help." 
 
 "Name which?" 
 
 " March Clisby." 
 
 The men looked at one another. Then they both 
 started to speak. 
 
 " March is pow'f ul han'some " 
 
 " An' him an' her is good frien's " 
 
 " They been knowin' each other sencst befo' 
 she come to work fo' us " 
 
 " An' he'd do a heap if n we ast him." 
 
 They waited until Miss Clemmins had completed 
 her day's labours and departed for the sacred pre- 
 cincts of her boarding house on Seventeenth street. 
 Then March was summoned into conference. He 
 eyed askance the fragrant perfecto which Elijah 
 forced upon him and shied from Brutus's eager- 
 ness to light it. After much verbose preamble they 
 got down to brass tacks. 
 
 March listened popeyed to their tale of woe, puff-
 
 302 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 ing great clouds of smoke into the room and shak- 
 ing his head from side to side as though it was too 
 heavy for his long, thin neck. Finally the collabo- 
 rated story was completed and the professional men 
 eagerly awaited March's decision. It came hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 " Ise bettin' you gen'lemen is all wrong," he de- 
 clared. 
 
 " Mebbe one of us'd be wrong," answered Atcher- 
 son in a voice as free from a roar as nature per- 
 mitted, "but never both ob us. Not never both. 
 It jes' coul'n't happen." 
 
 " But I been knowin' Corena " 
 
 " So is we : tha's the trouble." 
 
 " She must of had some reason fo' refusin' to 
 quit." 
 
 " My Gawd ! March Clisby ain't that what we 
 is been tellin' you fo' the past half a hour? Co'se 
 she is got a reason an' the reason is us. She ain't 
 nothin' on'y jes' a wampire." 
 
 March's eyes narrowed. " An' you claims to be 
 my frien's?" 
 
 " We is yo' frien's." 
 
 " Yet you is wishin' me onto a woman which you 
 says is mint you both? " 
 
 "You ain't engage' neither married." 
 
 "I I know that. . . ." March hesitated 
 and was lost. Brutus and Elijah opened a verbal 
 bombardment before which better men than March 
 would have fallen. They fairly overflowed with 
 persuasive logic. According to their arguments, 
 March Clisby would assure himself a private little 
 golden throne in heaven by this act of charity ; he
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 303 
 
 would become a benefactor to the human race by 
 setting up <as an eliminator of vampires. 
 
 " B-b-but," stammered the dazed March, coming 
 up for air, " what they is in it fo' me? " 
 
 " Oh ! " There was a sudden letdown in enthusi- 
 asm. " SumthinV answered Atcherson vaguely. 
 
 "What?" persisted March cannily. "Co'se 
 pervidin' I succeeds." 
 
 The bare mention of success proved the Open 
 Sesame to their wallets. " How much you want, 
 March?" 
 
 March Clisby hesitated. He knew that these 
 men needed his help yet, understanding the sore- 
 ness of their straits, he hesitated to voice his de- 
 mands. " I is a young man," he opened timidly, 
 " an' I ain't got nothin' befo' me on'y a future " 
 
 "Yeh . . . yeh. . . ." 
 
 " An' an' well, I was thinkin' if 'n I c'n do 
 this heah thing fo' you gen'lenien you-all ought to 
 be willin' to give me another thi'd of the GoF 
 Crown Ice Cream Parlour so's I'd own the cum- 
 trollin' interes'." 
 
 The price was steep but not sufficiently steep 
 to beget any great amount of hesitation. The Gold 
 Crown was a good paying proposition as such prop- 
 ositions go, but both doctors were too well fixed in 
 the goods of the world to require the little which 
 they received as a two-thirds share of its revenue. 
 
 " Tell you what we'll do," compromised Elijah. 
 " T'morrow mawnin' we'll go down to Lawyer Ar- 
 topee Gaillard an' draw up a contrac' which gives 
 you cumtrol as gene'al manager no matter what 
 we says an' also gives you two-thi'ds of the profits
 
 304 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 s'long's you stay with the business. That gives 
 you all what you wants an' pertec's us case'n you 
 ev' got sore an' wan'ed to sell us out." 
 
 March Clisby beamed beatifically. He extended 
 both hands comprehensively. " You is both gen'le- 
 men of the fust water," he proclaimed, " an I is 
 proud to sacrifice myse'f on the altar of my frien'- 
 ship fo' such." 
 
 By noon of the following day Elijah and Brutus 
 were all smiles. There was no gainsaying the fact 
 that March had no intention whatever of shirking 
 his end of the bargain. He spent every available 
 minute in the immediate vicinity of Miss Clemmins, 
 smirking and smiling ingratiatingly : a fish angling 
 for the bait. He brought to the reception-room 
 when it was vacant foamy, frothy, ice-cream 
 sodas, samples par excellence of his own handi- 
 work. That night he begged off and, leaving his 
 assistant in charge, escorted Miss Clemmins to 
 Champion Moving Picture Theatre Number Two 
 Coloured Only where they sat tensely through 
 the ninth blood-curdling episode of The Hounding 
 of Hattie. 
 
 During the days which followed March intensi- 
 fied his efforts. Nor did Corena Clemmins register 
 any violent objections. Her attitude toward Bru- 
 tus and Elijah, however, was cold and aloof 
 much to the delight of those gentlemen. She was 
 icily professional and stonily distant. The doc- 
 tors attributed it all to March's effective work and 
 gave that earnest young man due and liberal credit. 
 
 Brutus made two attempts to get back into the 
 good graces of Mayola Kye. Both times the door 
 was slammed viciously in his face. As for Lus-
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 305 
 
 tisha Atcherson, she maintained her menacing at- 
 titude of potential belligerence. The doctors 
 waited impatiently for concrete developments. 
 And the developments were not long in material- 
 izing. Twelve days after the original conversa- 
 tion, March Clisby drew them into conference in 
 Brutus's office. He reclined luxuriously in the 
 dentist's chair, lighted a Turkish cigaret and made 
 his report. 
 
 " Gen'lemen," he announced, " you-all shuah did 
 han' me out a tough job." 
 
 " Huh? You ain't mean " 
 
 " I mean I is tried 'suasion an' ev'ything else 
 what they is to try an' 'tain't no use." 
 
 " Oh ! Lawdy, March you ain't quittin' on us, 
 is you?" 
 
 " No-o : not perzac'ly." 
 
 " What you mean : not 'zac'ly? " 
 
 "They ain't on'y one way to remove Corena 
 away fum heah?" 
 
 "Come which?" 
 
 " I is got to marry her ! " 
 
 Brutus looked at Elijah and Elijah looked at 
 Brutus. Their consciences were suddenly trou- 
 blesome. It was plain that March had succumbed 
 to the lure of the siren, and also patent that the 
 trustful young man little understood the halter 
 which he was calmly proposing to place about his 
 own neck. 
 
 " Marry her? " 
 
 Uh-huh." 
 
 " But, March they sho'ly must be some other 
 
 He shook his head in positive negation. " I been
 
 306 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 knowin' that gal longer'n what you has, Doc. An' 
 w'en she's sot on a thing she's sot on it thorough an' 
 complete. They ain't no movin' her a tall. An' 
 if n I is any jedge she is sot on remainin' where 
 she is at ontil she is married." 
 
 Brntus sighed. He was a tender-hearted man 
 and hated to guide his friend to the slaughter. 
 But his own happiness meant much. He spread his 
 hands wide in a gesture of grudging consent. 
 " Well go ahead an' marry her." 
 
 Elijah cleared his throat and bobbed his head. 
 " Guess you is got to, March." 
 
 March Clisby unctuously rubbed the palms of 
 his hands together. " That brings on mo' talk " 
 and he hesitated modestly. 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 "A gal like what Corena is she ain't gwine 
 stan' fo' no six-bits weddin'. She is gwine deman' 
 all the trimmin's an' a reg'lar sho'-nuff honey- 
 moon." 
 
 "Ain't it the truth?" 
 
 "An' I cain't 'ford it!" 
 
 " Oh ! " Elijah was beginning to see a light. 
 " We is gave you enough a'ready, March." 
 
 March started to rise. " If r n tha's how you 
 feel bouten it, Dr. Atcherson, I reckon I ain't got 
 to marry her, is I? " 
 
 Brutus forced the victim back into the chair. 
 " Yes, you is," he grated. " How much this heah 
 swell weddin' an' honeymoon gwine cos'? " 
 
 The prospective bridegroom set his figure at a 
 minimum : " Th'ee hund'ed dollars." 
 
 " Make it two hund'ed an' fifty." 
 
 " Th'ee hund'ed is the rock-bottom price an' I is
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 307 
 
 losin' money at that, genPlemen. Remember, I is 
 the one got to live with her all my nachel life." 
 
 Elijah sighed ponderously. " Bein' a married 
 man, March, I know sumthin' bouten what that 
 means. S'far's I is concerned at, the th'ee hun- 
 d'ed is satisfactory." He tentatively produced his 
 checkbook. "You is shuah she is gwine marry 
 you?" 
 
 " Soht of." 
 
 " Soon as the 'gagement is publicly announce', 
 March, you gits the th'ee hund'ed. We'll write 
 the cheks an' hol'n 'em ontil then." 
 
 " Tha's easy," grinned March. " I is bettin' I 
 c'n cash in by t'night." 
 
 And he did! Immediately on the heels of the 
 announcement Brutus was received once again into 
 the arms of the adoring Mayola thoroughly con- 
 trite now for the manner in which she had treated 
 him. As for Lustisha, she actually beamed upon 
 her husband across their dinner table and just be- 
 fore his departure after the evening meal, she im- 
 planted a warm, moist kiss upon his unwilling lips. 
 
 The wedding, which occurred three weeks later, 
 marked a social epoch. Even Lustisha Atcherson, 
 who could not have been kept away by a team of 
 wild horses, admitted that the bride presented a 
 thoroughly entrancing picture. Mayola Eye, in- 
 toxicated by the festive atmosphere, unbent so far 
 as to kiss the bride. 
 
 A large portion of unalloyed bliss had settled 
 upon the shoulders of each of the guests. Su- 
 preme hilarity held sway and raucous humour ran 
 rampant. Professor Alec Champagne's string-and- 
 reed orchestra furnished an amplitude of raggy,
 
 308 POLISHED EBONY 
 
 itchy dance music. Even Elijah Atcherson allowed 
 a corner of his mantle of dignity to slip as he cir- 
 culated through the crowd, his bellicose basso ris- 
 ing triumphantly above the din. 
 
 And finally the midnight hour approached and 
 the blushing bride retired to her boudoir to don 
 travelling garb. Brutus Herring and Elijah Atch- 
 erson cornered the bridegroom in the hallway and 
 pressed a thin envelope into his willing hand. 
 
 "They's fifty dollars, March. Tha's over an' 
 above what we is a'ready gave you. You is sho' 
 done yo' work tho'ough an' we wants you to know 
 that we 'predates it." 
 
 March was overcome with emotion. " You is 
 both too good. Doin' what I is done did ain't 
 nothin' tall fo' such fine fellers like what you-all is." 
 
 "'Hmph ! " grunted the pessimistic Elijah. " Jes' 
 wait ontil you is been married a yeah ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, in the sanctity of her room, the bride 
 had divested herself of veil and bridal gown. She 
 stood proudly before the dresser mirror in all the 
 pristine glory of white satin ribbon and fluffy lin- 
 gerie. There came a light tap on the door and it 
 cracked open tentatively. " C'n I come in? " 
 
 Corena looked up into the tiny, contrite face of 
 Mayola Kye. There was no resisting a penitent 
 Mayola. " Shuah, Miss Kye you is mos' wel- 
 come." 
 
 Mayola entered the room and stood uncertainly 
 before the other woman. "I is done you dirt, 
 Corena," she blurted, " an' I is sorry." 
 
 Corena impulsively kissed her. " Tha's all 
 right, Mayola; tha's jes' all right. You you "
 
 PAINLESS EXTRACTION 309 
 
 she cast about for some symbol of forgiveness: 
 " You c'n he'p lace up my travellin' boots ! " 
 
 From her post of honour at the feet of the bride, 
 Mayola glanced up. " It took me all of a heap, 
 Corena." 
 
 "Which?" 
 
 " Yo' weddin' comin' sudden like it done." 
 
 The bride shook her head. " They wa'n't nothin' 
 sudden 'bout our weddin'." 
 
 " But but you ain't hahdly knowed March 
 Clisby real well fo' more'n th'ee or fo' weeks." 
 
 Corena's lips expanded into a broad grin. The 
 grin became a chuckle and the chuckle a full-blown, 
 throaty laugh. " Sho' now, Mayola you is plumb 
 wrong there. Why, me an' March Clisby is been 
 engage' sencst even befo' I went to work fo' the 
 doctors. Co'se 'twas a secret 'gagement, but we 
 was on'y waitin' ontil our feenancial affairs 
 looked brighter." She paused briefly then 
 smiled again : " An' believe me, Mayola things 
 is shuah been comin' March's way right recent ! " 
 
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