week. They couldn't say negro--nigger--colored--black. Jacobs said he had come home every night and shouted, "NIGGER NIGGER NIGGER" out the back window. Rayber wondered what George's leanings were. He was a trim looking boy.
"If a nigger come in my shop with any of that haircut sass, he'd get it cut all right." The barber made a noise between his teeth. "You a Mother Hubbard?" he asked.
"I'm voting for Darmon if that's what you mean," Rayber said.
"You ever heard Hawkson talk?"
"I've had that pleasure," Rayber said.
"You heard his last one?"
"No, I understand his remarks don't alter from speech to speech," Rayber said curtly.
"Yeah?" the barber said. "Well, this last speech was a killeroo! Ol' Hawk let them Mother Hubbards have it."
"A good many people," Rayber said, "consider Hawkson a demagog." He wondered if George knew what demagog meant. Should have said, "lying politician."
"Demagog!" The barber slapped his knee and whooped. "That's what Hawk said!" he howled. "Ain't that a shot! 'Folks,' he says, 'them Mother Hubbards says I'm a demagog.' Then he rears back and says sort of soft-like, 'Am I a demagog, you people?" And they yells, 'Naw, Hawk, you
