The writer of the essay that troubled him was Lancy Davis. He had known the identity of the author before he turhe last sheet over and saw the signature. Already he had some trouble with Lancy. His older sister had go to work as a servant when she was eleven years old and she had been raped by her employer, a white man past middle age. Then a year or so later he had received an emergency call to attend Lancy.
Doctor Copelao the filing case in his bedroom where he kept notes on all of his patients. He took out the card marked Mrs. Dan Davis and Family and glahrough the notations until he reached Laname. The date was four years ago. The entries on him were written with more care thahers and in ink: thirteen years old—past puberty.
Unsuccessful attempt self-emasculation. Oversexed and hyperthyroid. Wept boisterously during two visits, though little pain. Voluble—very glad to see Lucy Davis—mother washerwoman. Intelligent talk through paranoiac.
Enviro fair with one exception and well worth watg and all possible help. Keep tact. Fee: $ (?)』
It is a difficult decision to make this year, he said to Portia.
"But I suppose I will have to fer the award on Lancy Davis.』
If you done decide, then—e tell me about some of these here presents.』
The gifts to be distributed at the party were i.
There were paper sacks of groceries and clothing, all marked with a red Christmas card. Anyone who cared to e was io the party, but those who meant to attend had stopped by the house and written (or had asked a friend to write) their names in a guest book kept oable in the hall for that purpose. The sacks were piled on the floor. There were about forty of them, eae depending in size on the need of the receiver. Some gifts were only small packages of nuts or raisins and others were boxes almost too heavy for a man to lift The kit was crowded with good things. Doctor Copeland stood in the doorway and his nostrils quivered with pride.
think you dht well this year. Folks certainly have been kindly.』
Tshaw! he said. This is not a huh part of what is needed.』
?Now, there you go, Father! I know good and well you just as pleased as you be. But you dont want to show it.
You got to find something to grumble about. Here we haves about four pecks of peas, twenty saeaL about fifteen pounds of side meat, mullet, six dozen eggs, plenty grits, jars of tomatoes and peaches. Apples and two dozen es. Also garments. And two mattresses and four blas. I call this something!』
A drop in the bucket.』
Portia poio a large box in the er. These here —what you io do with them?』
The box tained nothing but junk—a headless doll, some duty lace, a rabbitskin. Doctor Copeland scrutinized each article. Do not throw them away. There is use for everything.
These are the gifts from uests who have nothier to tribute. I will find some purpose for them later."Then suppose you look over these here boxes and sacks so I
eo tie them up. There aint going to be room here i. Time they all pile in for the refreshments.
I just going to put these here presents out on the back steps and in the yard.』
The m sun had risen. The day would be bright and cold.
I there were rich, sweet odors. A dishpan of coffee was oove and iced cakes filled a shelf in the cupboard.
And none of this es from white people. All from colored.』
No, said Doctor Copeland. That is not wholly true. Mr.
Sin