"Thinking!" Rayber shouted. "You call yourself thinking?"
"Listen," the barber said, "do you know what Hawk told them people at Tilford?" At Tilford Hawk had told them that he liked niggers fine in their place and if they didn't stay in that plate, he had a place to put 'em. How about that?
Rayber wanted to know what that had to do with thinking.
The barber thought it was plain as a pig on a sofa what that had to do with thinking. He thought a good many other things too, which he told Rayber. He said Rayber should have heard the Hawkson speeches at Mullin's Oak, Bedford, and Chickerville.
Rayber settled down in his chair again and reminded the barber that he had come in for a shave.
The barber started back shaving him. He said Rayber should have heard the one at Spartasville. "There wasn't a Mother Hubbard left standin', and all the Boy Blues got their horns broke." "Hawk said," he said, "that the time had come when you had to sit on the lid with...."
"I have an appointment," Rayber said. "I'm in a hurry." Why should he stay and listen to that tripe?
As much rot as it was, the whole asinine conversation stuck with him the rest of the day and went through
