No. Pennsylvania. I wanted to try a white college. I've got to get along in a white world, he went on, and I thought it might help.
Did it?
How should I know?
Byron's going to be a writer, Mary remarked.
I want to write, but I've got to earn my living while I'm learning.
What've you got on your mind? Howard asked.
Oh, nothing in particular. I just want to make a living until I get a start with my pen.
You'll have a fine time among the ofays, Dick asserted bitterly.
What do you mean? Byron demanded.
Sort o' kept you in your place at college, didn't they?
Byron was silent.
Did they ask you to their parties?
No, Byron responded, adding, It wasn't so bad.
Well, it won't be so bad here either, just so long as you're just another Nigger and know your place, Sill declared. They'll give you your choice too. You can run an elevator or lift pianos.
Dick! Mary implored him.
It's the truth, cried Olive. Let him talk.
Oh, I don't mind. I've heard it all before, Byron said. I guess I can find something better than that to do. If I can't I'll try Harlem. I only thought I could make more money downtown.
