The thing that impressed him most about the second floor was the bathroom. He had never lived where there was running water indoors. And in this room, too, everything was so spotlessly clean that Sandy was afraid to move lest he disturb something or splash water on the wall.

When he came downstairs for breakfast, he found the table set for two. Mr. Siles, being in the railway postal service, was out on a trip. The grapefruit was waiting as Sandy slid shyly into his place opposite the ash-brown woman who had become his guardian since his grandma’s death. She bowed her head to say a short grace; then they ate.

“Have you been accustomed to drinking milk in the mornings?” Tempy asked as they were finishing the meal. “If you have, the milkman can leave another bottle. Young people should have plenty of milk.”

“Yes’m, I’d like it, but we only had coffee at home.”

“You needn’t say ‘yes’m’ in this house. We are not used to slavery talk here. If you like milk, I’ll get it for you. . . . Now, how are your clothes? I see your stocking has a hole in it, and one pants-leg is hanging.”

“It don’t stay fastened.”

“It doesn’t, James! I’ll buy you some more pants tomorrow. What else do you need?”

Sandy told her, and in a few days she took him to Wertheimer’s, the city’s largest store, and outfitted him completely. And, as they shopped, she informed him that she was the only colored woman in town who ran a bill there.

“I want white people to know that Negroes have a little taste; that’s why I always trade at good shops.... And if you’re going to live with me, you’ll have to learn to do things right, too.”

The tearful letter that came from Annjee when she heard of her mother’s death said that Toledo was a very difficult place to get work in, and that she had no money to send railroad fare for Sandy, but that she would try to send for him as soon as she could. Jimboy was working on a lake steamer and was seldom home, and she couldn’t have Sandy with her anyway until they got a nicer place to stay; so would Tempy please keep him a little while?

By return post Tempy replied that if Annjee had any sense, she would let Sandy remain in Stanton, where he could get a good education, and not be following after his worthless father all over the country. Mr. Siles and she had no children, and Sandy seemed like a quiet, decent child, smart in his classes. Colored people needed to encourage talent so that the white race would realize Negroes weren’t all mere guitar-players and housemaids. And Sandy could be a credit if he were raised right. Of course, Tempy knew he hadn’t had the correct environment to begin with—living with Jimboy and Harriett and going to a Baptist church, but undoubtedly he could be trained. He was young. “And I think it would be only fair to the boy that you let him stay with us, because, Annjee, you are certainly not the person to bring him up as he should be reared.” The letter was signed: “Your sister, Tempy,” and written properly with pen and ink.