into a struggle for bread and butter; for of course, if the Board of Education goes, I lose my place.” She lifted her head and stared along the avenue.
A bitterness dawned in her eyes. The whole street was a living insult to her.
Here she was, an American girl by birth and breeding, a daughter of citizens who had fought and bled and worked for a dozen generations on this soil; yet if she stepped into this hotel to rest, even with full purse, she would be politely refused accommodation.
Should she attempt to go into this picture show she would be denied entrance.
She was thirsty with the walk; but at yonder fountain the clerk would roughly refuse to serve her. It was lunch time; there was no place within a mile where she was allowed to eat.
The revolt deepened within her. Beyond these known and definite discriminations lay the unknown and hovering.
- In yonder store nothing hindered the clerk from being exceptionally pert;
- on yonder streetcar the conductor might reserve his politeness for white folk;
- this policeman’s business was to keep black and brown people in their places.
All this Caroline Wynn thought of, and then smiled.
This was the thing poor blind Bles was trying to