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bag from house to house； and on all things he would talk to
them and patiently explain。 And then in the night he would be
happy in the knowledge that the day had been a day of
purpose。 And even without Daisy and Hamilton and Karl
Marx and William and Portia he
could sit by the stove alone and take joy from this knowledge。
He would drink a pot of turnip…green liquor and eat a pone of
cornbread。 A deep feeling of satisfaction would be in him
because the day was good。
There were thousands of such times of satisfaction。 But what
had been their meaning？ Out of all the years he could think of
no work of lasting value。
After a while the door to the hall was opened and Portia came
in。 'I reckon I going to have to dress you like a baby；' she said。
'Here your shoes and socks。 Let me take off your bedroom
shoes and put them on。 We got to get gone from here pretty
soon。'
'Why have you done this to me？' he asked bitterly。
'What I done to you now？'
'You know full well that I do not want to leave。 You pressed
me into saying yes when I was in no fit condition to make a
decision。 I wish to remain where I have always been； and you
know it。'
'Listen to you carry on！' Portia said angrily。 'You done
grumbled so much that I nearly worn out。 You done fumed
and fussed so that I right shamed for you。'
'Pshaw！ Say what you will。 You only come before me like
a
gnat。 I know what I wish and will not be pestered into doing
that which is wrong。
'
Portia took off his bedroom shoes and unrolled a pair of clean
black cotton socks。 'Father； less us quit this here argument。 Us
have all done the best we know how。 It entirely the best plan
for you to go out with Grandpapa and Hamilton and Buddy。
They going to take good care of you and you going to get
well。
'
'No； I will not；' said Doctor Copeland。 'But I would have
recovered here。 I know it。
'
'Who you think could pay the note on this here house？ How
you think us could feed you？ Who you think could take care
you here？
'
'I have always managed； and I can manage yet。
'
'You just trying to be contrary。
'
'Pshaw！ You come before me like a gnat。 And I ignore you。
'
'That certainly is a nice way to talk to me while I trying to put
on your shoes and socks。
'
'I am sorry。 Forgive me； Daughter。'284
'Course you sorry；' she said。 'Course we both sorry。 Us can't
afford to quarrel。 And besides； once we get you settled on the
farm you going to like it。 They got the prettiest vegetable
garden I ever seen。 Make my mouth slobber to think about it。
And chickens and two breed sows and eighteen peach trees。
Ypu just going to be crazy about it there。 I sure do wish it was
me could get a chance to go。
'
'I wish so； too。
'
'How come you so determined to grieve？
'
'I just feel that I have failed；' he said。
'How you mean you done failed？
'
'I do not know。 Just leave me be； Daughter。 Just let me sit here
in peace a moment。
'
'O。K。 But us got to get gone from here pretty soon。
'
He would be silent。 He would sit quietly and rock in the chair
until the sense of order was in him once more。 His head
trembled and his backbone ached。
'I certainly hope this；' Portia said。 'I certainly hope that when
I
dead and gone as many peoples grieves for me as grieves for
Mr。 Singer。 I sure would like to know I were going to have as
sad a funeral as he had and as many peoples'
'Hush！' said Doctor Copeland roughly。 〃You talk too much。'
But truly with the death of that white man a dark sorrow had
lain down in his heart。 He had talked to him as to no other
white man and had trusted him。 And the mystery of his suicide
had left him baffled and without support。 There was neither
beginning nor end to this sorrow。 Nor understanding。 Always
he would return in his thoughts to this white man who was not
insolent or scornful but who was just。 And how can the dead
be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are
left behind？ But of all this he must not think。 He must thrust it
from him now。
For it was discipline he needed。 During the past month the
black； terrible feelings had arisen again to wrestle with his
spirit。 There was the hatred that for days had truly let him
down into the regions of death。 After the quarrel with Mr。
Blounti the midnight visitor； there had been in him a
murderous darkness。 Yet now he could not clearly recall those
issues which were the cause of their dispute。 And
285
then the different anger that came in him when he looked on
the stumps of Willie's legs。 The warring love and hatred —
love for his people and hatred for the oppressors of his people
—that left him exhausted and sick in spirit
'Daughter；' he said。 'Get me my watch and coat。 I am going。'
He pushed himself up with the arms of the chair。 The floor
seemed a far way from his face and after the long time in bed
his legs were very weak。 For a moment he felt he would fall。
He walked dizzily across the bare room and stood leaning
against the side of the doorway。 He coughed and took from his
pocket one of the squares of paper to hold over his mouth。
'Here your coat；' Portia said。 'But it so hot outside you not
going to need it。'
He walked for the last time through the empty house。 The
blinds were closed and in the darkened rooms there was the
smell of dust。 He rested against the wall of the vestibule and
then went outside。 The morning was bright and warm。 Many
friends had come to say good…bye the night before and in the
very early morning—but now only the family was congregated
on the porch。 The wagon and the automobile were parked out
in the street。
'Well； Benedict Mady；' the old man said。 'I reckon yoa ghy be
a little bit homesick these first few days。 But won't be long。
'
'I do not have any home。 So why should T be homesick？
*
Portia wet her lips nervously and said： 'He coming back
whenever he get good and ready。 Buddy will be glad to ride
him to town in the car。 Buddy just love to drive。
'
The automobile was loaded。 Boxes of books were tied to the
running…board。 The back seat was crowded with two chairs
and the filing case。 His office desk； legs in the air； had been
fastened to the top。 But although the car was weighted down
the wagon was almost empty。 The mule stood patiently；
a
brick tied to his reins。
'Karl Marx；' Doctor Copeland said。 'I^ook sharp。 Go over the
house and make sure that nothing is left。 Bring the cup I left
on the floor and my rocking…chair。
'
'Less us get started。 I anxious to be home by dinnertime；
'
Hamilton said。286
At last they were ready。 Highboy cranked the automobile。
Karl Marx sat at the wheel and Portia； Highboy； and William
were crowded together on the back seat。
'Father； suppose you set on Highboy's lap。 I believe you be
more comfortable than scrouged up here with us and all this
furniture。
'
*No； it is too crowded。 I would rather ride in the wagon。
'
'But you not used to the wagon；' Karl Marx said。 'It going to be
very bumpy and the trip liable to take all day。
'
〃That does not matter。 I have ridden in many a wagon before
this。
'
'Tell Hamilton to come with us。 I sure he rather ride in th