Detroit tribune. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1933-1933, 1933-11-11

ingly at his dad as no askel.
Daddy, why can't Junior play
with me any more?"
why sonny. how should daddy
know"
But am / bad boy because /
am a Negro?" and little Booker's
face was serious.
"Of course not. sonny. Why do
you ask"
Booker squirmed in his chair.
WELL" and Booker answered
hesitatingly, Junior said his
father told him not to play with
me because I'm a Negro" and
Booker's voice broke as he added.
"He said was black"
Around Buttons heart coiled the
snake of hatred for a man so de-
void OF decency and honor, as to
poin the finger of scorn at a
little helpless child. Buttons face
we're a smile as he replied banter
ingly. That's because Juniors
father don't know what fine lad
you are"
Janet pushed back her chair
violently. Such evidences of beast
Illness always made her want to
strike. with heart and hands, at
such an un-American sportsman
ship.
AS they arose from the dinner
table Booker asked, Mother. may l
play In the sun room a while?"
Janet shook her finger at him.
III you promise not to put your
hand in the gold fish bowl"
"Ob, / PROMISE" and he hurried
away.
Forgotten were such things as
race prejudice. Happy childhood,
to be able to discard the troubles
of life.
AS Janet and Burton entered the
living room, both deeply pondered
tho old American question, the why
OF the Negro problem. or was II an
intricate problem? Why was it a
problem and what made IL one? 1t
seemed that the answer was ex-
pressed In men OF Dean Pickard' 3
calibef.
How can any country hope to
stand as a model of honesty, JUS
tice, and a lover of fair play and
deviate from those sacred tradi-
lions upon which that country is
founded? The out come looked du-
bioug indeed.
Thus Burton unused as he la,
back In his easy chair and smoked
his cigar, watching the smok
rings float away into space Will
Janet's fingers flew lightly owe
tho piano keys, her thoughts a
ldesultory as her music.
What artist could have gaze
unmoved on the lovely pictu
. framed In the partly opened 10
,r way OF the sun room that led O
=. into the Mckinney garden. for ST
q ting on the steps was Booker. ar
p seated at his side was little junk
Z Pickard.
r Junior had disobeyed his father
e stern command and had stole
over to spend few minutes wit
, his beloved playmate with tw,
brigh. red apples to share with hi
friend.
In the dusk of the evening, will
the soft shaded lights OF the sur
room as a back ground they sal
there, sharing their apples bite by
bite. as they held whispered col
loquy.
Dean Jr's. clear blue eyes AID
pretty blond curls gave him lock
almost ethereal in the dim light
while Booker's reddish brown hair
and dancing eyes appeared a merry
elf.
The strains of Janet's music
soothed the restless nerves OF
Burton, for he was trying not TO
show concern over the threatened
consequences" IL placed man In
a peculiar position. II he ran, he
felt a coward. II he stayed and his
family was endangered, then what?
Where was the answer TO this
conundrum?
Then
There was a sound, not unlike a
giant locomotive as it nears the
city limits, it's roaring steam and
whistle growing louder and louder,
finally ending in a deafening cres-
cendo as IL enters the station.
BurtoA heard the clamor above
Janet's music. AS he arose quickly
Janet whirled from the piano
bench IN alarm.
"Why Burton. what's wrong
and then Janets's ears caught the
roar OF many voices rising on the
evening air.
There was no hint OF hysteria VI
Janet's eyes. She was quiet and
calm, and for that Burton was
grateful. Like a general he took a
minute to reconnoter. He must
plan his every step and action. The
McKinneys might be moved but al
the risk to some one In that mob
lie lowered the lights, and as he
started for the telephone he said
Tell Thomas want him." and
Janet hurried to summon the
chauffeur. When she reached the
kitchen door, she almost collidcd