No one spoke to her. The children near her moved away in every direction. They stopped playing, many of them, and watched her. They stared as only children can stare. Some began whispering about her. Presently one child came up and ran her hand roughly over Ethel's face. She looked at her hand and Ethel's face and ran screaming back to the others, "It won't come off ! See !" Other children followed the first child's example. Then one boy spoke up loudly: "I know what she is, she's a nigger!" Many took up the cry. God or the devil interfered— the bell rang. The children filed in. One boy boldly called her "Nigger!" before the teacher. She said, "That isn't nice," — but she smiled at the boy. Things went on about the same for the rest of the day. At the end of school, Ethel put on her hat and coat — the teacher made her hang them at a distance from the other pupils' wraps ; and started for home. Quite a crowd escorted her. They called her "Nigger!" all the way. I made Ethel go the next day. I complained to the authorities. They treated me lightly. I was determined not to let them force my child out of school. At the end of two weeks — I had to take her out.

Rachel {Brokenly) : Why, — I never — in all my life — heard anything — so — pitiful.

Mrs. Lane: Did you ever go to school here?

Rachel: Yes. I was made to feel my color — but I never had an experience like that.

Mrs. Lane: How many years ago were you in the graded schools?

Rachel : Oh ! — around ten.

Mrs. Lane {Laughs grimly) : Ten years ! Every year things are getting worse. Last year wasn't as bad as this. {Pauses.) So they treat the children all right in this school?

Rachel: Yes! Yes! I know that.

Mrs. Lane: I can't afford to take this flat here, but I'll take it. I'm going to have Ethel educated. Although, when you think of it, — it's all rather useless — this education! What are our children going to do with it, when they get it? We strive and save and sacrifice to educate them — and the whole time — down underneath, we know — they'll have no chance.

Rachel (Sadly) : Yes, that's true, all right. — God seems to have forgotten us.

Mrs. Lane : God ! It's all a lie about God. I know. — This fall I sent Ethel to a white Sunday-school near us. She received the same treatment there she did in the day school. Her being there, nearly broke up the school. At the end, the superintendent called her to him and asked her if she didn't know of some nice colored Sundayschool. He told her she must feel out of place, and uncomfortable there. That's your Church of God!

Rachel: Oh! how unspeakably brutal. (Controls herself with an effort; after a pause) Have you any other children ?

Mrs. Lane (Dryly) : Hardly! If I had another— I'd kill it. It's kinder. (Rising presently) Well, I must go, now. Thank you, for your information — and for listening. (Suddenly) You aren't married, are you?

Rachel: No.

Mrs. Lane: Don't marry — that's my advice. Come,Ethel. (Ethel gets up and puts down the things in her lap, carefully upon her chair. She goes in a hurried, timid way to her mother and clutches her hand) . Say good-bye to the lady.