“What will you do with all your learning?” Miss Jane asked.
“I’ll teach.”
“Niggers?”
Hazel did not want to answer; but sitting very erect, with a precision that would have done any teacher credit, she replied: “Everybody goes to school in Boston, every single child. And the teachers don’t ask whether they are black or white, or rich or poor. There are Turks, and Arabians, and (switching to the map of Europe as safer ground) Hungarians, and Bulgarians, and Norwegians, and Swedians, (doubtfully) and Greeks, and Spaniards, and Romans, and Germans and Irish.”
“You don’t say,” exclaimed Miss Laura, “all those heathen!”
There was a moment’s silence.
“When are you going home?” asked Miss Jane.
“In May, I think, if anyone can be found to take me. I came down with Mrs. Graham, but she doesn’t return until July.”
“A white lady?”
“No, Miss Fairmount.”