第7部分(第6/7 頁)

　one　of　them　hadever　loved　a　nigger。　He；　John；　was　a　nigger；　and　he　would　find　out；　as　soon　as　he　got　a　little　older；how　evil　white　people　could　be。　John　had　read　about　the　things　white　people　did　to　colored　people；how；　in　the　South；　where　his　parents　came　from；　white　people　cheated　them　of　their　wages；　andburned　them；　and　shot　them—and　did　worse　things；　said　his　father；　which　the　tongue　could　notendure　to　utter。　He　had　read　about　colored　men　being　burned　in　the　electric　chair　for　things　theyhad　not　done；　how　in　riots　they　were　beaten　with　clubs；　how　they　were　tortured　in　prisons；　howthey　were　the　last　to　be　hired　and　the　first　to　be　fired。　Niggers　did　not　live　on　these　streets　whereJohn　now　walked；　it　was　forbidden；　and　yet　he　walked　here；　and　no　one　raised　a　hand　against　him。

But　did　he　dare　to　enter　this　shop　out　of　which　a　woman　now　casually　walked；　carrying　a　greatround　box？　Or　this　apartment　before　which　a　white　man　stood；　dressed　in　a　brilliant　uniform？　John　knew　he　did　not　dare；　not　to…day；　and　he　heard　his　father’s　laugh：　‘No；　nor　to…morrow　neither！’　Forhim　there　was　the　back　door；　and　the　dark　stairs；　and　the　kitchen　or　the　basement。　This　world　wasnot　for　him。　If　he　refused　to　believe；　and　wanted　to　break　his　neck　trying；　then　he　could　try　untilthe　sun　refused　to　shine；　they　would　never　let　him　enter。　In　John’s　mind　then；　the　people　and　theavenue　underwent　a　change；　and　he　feared　them　and　knew　that　one　day　he　could　hate　them　if　Goddid　not　change　his　heart。

He　left　Fifth　Avenue　and　walked　west　toward　the　movie　houses。　Here　on　42nd　Street　it　wasless　elegant　but　not　less　strange。　He　loved　this　street；　not　for　the　people　or　the　shops　but　for　thestone　lions　that　guarded　the　great　main　building　of　the　Public　Library；　a　building　filled　with　bookand　unim