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repressive regimes, or who were forced to leave their families and flee their homeland to be forgotten. One can forgive but one should never forget.

She stood for a long time in the doorway in a red fury that grew bloodier for every second that she regarded the creature that was her torment.

uh suck-egg dog." Sykes almost let the huge wad of corn bread and collard greens he was chewing fall out of his mouth in amazement. He had a hard time whipping himself up to the proper fury to try to answer Delia.

"Ah hates you, Sykes," she said calmly. "Ah hates you tuh de same degree dat Ah useter love yuh. Ah done took an' took till mah belly is full up tuh mah neck.

The sun was growing warm. As she approached the door she heard him call out hopefully, "Delia, is dat you Ah heah?" She saw him on his hands and knees as soon as she reached the door. He crept an inch or two toward her--all that he was able, and she saw his horribly swollen neck and his one open eye shining with hope. A surge of pity too strong to support bore her away from that eye that must, could not, fail to see the tubs.

gate. Delia and Sykes fought all the time now with no peaceful interludes. They slept and ate in silence. Two or three times Delia had attempted a timid friendliness, but she was repulsed each time. It was plain that the breaches must remain agape

gum." With all this they left the store, with Sykes reminding Bertha that this was his town and she could have it if she wanted it.

He useter be so skeered uh losin' huh, she could make him do some parts of a husband's duty. Dey never wuz de same in de mind."

Did Ah tell yuh'bout him come sidlin' roun' mah wife--bringin' her a basket uh pecans outa his yard fuh a present? Yessir, mah wife! She tol' him tuh take 'em right straight back home, cause Delia works so hard ovah dat washtub she reckon everything on de place taste lak sweat an' soapsuds.

Sometime or ruther, Sykes, like everybody else, is gointer reap his sowing."

that ole snaggle-toothed black woman you runnin' with aint comin' heah to pile up on mah sweat and blood.

Don't gimme no lip neither, else Ah'll throw 'em outand put mah fist up side yo' head to boot."

You sho is one aggravatin' nigger woman!" he declared and stepped into the room. She resumed her work and did not answer him at once.

She lifted her eyes to the door and saw him standing there bent over with laughter at her fright. She screamed at him.

Course Ah knowed it! That's how come Ah done it." He slapped his leg with his hand and almost rolled on the ground in his mirth. "If you such a big fool dat you got to have a fit over a earth worm or a string, Ah don't keer how bad Ah skeer you."

You right. I think about it and you right. Tonight I find Hilda and say sorry. And make promise I won't beat her no more.

That's why I tried to stop you from saying these things about him. It would have been so simple if you could have just despised him for being a weak man. But he's your father. You love him and you're ashamed of him. You're ashamed of so much! . . . And now that's going to include yourself. That was the promise I made to myself: to try and stop that happening. [Pause.] After we got him to bed you came back with me to my room and sat in a corner and carried on just looking down at the ground. And for days after that! You hadn't done anything wrong, but you went around as if you owed the world an apology for being alive. I didn't like seeing that! That's not the way a boy grows up to be a man!

It's all right, Willie. To Hally. Ja, well, you've done it . . . Master Harold. Yes, I'll start calling you that from now on. It won't be difficult anymore. You're hurt yourself, Master Harold. I saw it coming. I warned you, but you wouldn't listen. You've just hurt yourself bad. And you're a coward, master Harold. The face you should be spitting in is your father's . . . but you used mine, because you think you're safe inside your fair skin . . . and this time I don't mean just or decent. [Pause, then moving violently towards Hally.] Should I hit him, Willie?

Quietly.] Sam . . . [Sam stops and looks expectantly at the boy. Hally spits in his face. A long and heartfelt grown from Willie. For a few seconds Sam doesn't move.]

It's me you're after. You should just have said "Sam's arse" . . . because that's the one you're trying to kick. Anyway, how do you know it's not fair? You've never seen it. Do you want to? [He drops his trousers and underpants and presents his backside for Hally's inspection.] Have a good look. A real Basuto {South African people living in what's now Lesotho, then 'Basutoland'} arse . . . which is about as nigger as they can come. Satisfied? [Trousers up.] Now you can make your Dad even happier when you go home tonight. Tell him I showed you my arse and he is quite right. It's not fair. And if it will give him an even better laugh next time, I'll also let him have a look. Come, Willie, let's finish up and go. [Sam and Willie start to tidy up the tea room. Hally doesn't move. He waits for a moment when Sam passes him.]

Well, I have. It's good news. Because that is exactly what master Harold wants from now on. Think of it as a little lesson in respect, Sam, that's long overdue, and I hope you remember it as well as you do your geography. I can tell you now that somebody who will be glad to hear I've finally given it to you will be my Dad. Yes! He agrees with my Mom. He's always going on about it as well. "You must teach the boys to show you more respect, my son."

You're basing that opinion on only one play, you know. You've only read my Julius Caesar and even I don't understand half of what they're talking about. They should do what they did with the old bible: bring the language up to date.

Tolstoy may have educated his peasants, but I've educated you.

Gosh], you're impossible. I showed it to you in black and white.

“This isn’t an accident,” he says, and I half expect him to follow the procedural script and say, “This is a tragedy,” but it’s not even that; it’s just someone dying, or possibly dying, or maybe he’ll be fine. I’ll never find out what happened to the man. I’m just an extra.