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Du Bois, W. E. B. (William Edward Burghardt), 1868-1963

"The Souls of Black Folk"

The Ne-
groes were rent into factions for and against him, the parents
were careless, the children irregular and dirty, and books,
pencils, and slates largely missing. Nevertheless, he struggled
hopefully on, and seemed to see at last some glimmering of
dawn. The attendance was larger and the children were a
shade cleaner this week. Even the booby class in reading
showed a little comforting progress. So John settled himself
with renewed patience this afternoon.
"Now, Mandy," he said cheerfully, "that's better; but you
mustn't chop your words up so: 'If--the-man--goes.' Why,
your little brother even wouldn't tell a story that way, now
would he?"
"Naw, suh, he cain't talk."
"All right; now let's try again: 'If the man--'
"John!"
The whole school started in surprise, and the teacher half
arose, as the red, angry face of the Judge appeared in the
open doorway.
"John, this school is closed. You children can go home
and get to work. The white people of Altamaha are not
spending their money on black folks to have their heads
crammed with impudence and lies. Clear out! I'll lock the
door myself.


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