Mandy took Jim’s threat as an idle one, so she could afford to be independent. But the next day had found him gone. The deserted wife wept for a time, for she had been fond of Jim, and then she set to work to struggle on by herself. It was a dismal effort, and the people about her were not kind to her. She was hardly of their class. She was only a simple, honest countrywoman, who did not go out with them to walk the avenue. When a month or two afterward the sheepish Jim returned, ragged and dirty, she had forgiven him and taken him back. But immunity from punishment spoiled him, and hence of late his lapses had grown more frequent and of longer duration. He walked in one morning, after one of his absences, with a more than usually forbidding face, for he had heard the news in the neighbourhood before he got in. During his absence a baby had come to share the poverty of his home. He thought with shame at himself, which turned into anger, that the child must be three months old and he had never seen it. “Back ag’in, Jim?” was all Mandy said as he entered and seated himself sullenly. “Yes, I’s back, but I ain’t back fu’ long. I jes’ come to git my clothes. I’s a-gwine away fu’ good.” “Gwine away ag’in! Why, you been gone fu’ nigh on to fou’ months a’ready. Ain’t you nevah gwine to stay home no mo’?” “I tol’ you I was gwine away fu’ good, didn’t I? Well, dat’s what I mean.” “Ef you didn’t want me, Jim, I wish to Gawd dat you’d ’a’ lef’ me back home among my folks, whaih people knowed me an’ would ’a’ give me a helpin’ han’. Dis hyeah No’f ain’t no fittin’ place fu’ a lone colo’ed ooman less’n she got money.” “It ain’t no place fu’ nobody dat’s jes’ lazy an’ no ’count.” “I ain’t no ’count. I ain’t wuffless. I does de bes’ I kin. I been wo’kin’ like a dog to try an’ keep up while you trapsein’ ’roun’, de Lawd knows whaih. When I was single I could git out an’ mek my own livin’. I didn’t ax nobody no odds; but you wa’n’t satisfied ontwell I ma’ied you, an’ now, when I’s tied down wid a baby, dat’s de way you treats me.” The woman sat down and began to cry, and the sight of her tears angered her husband the more. “Oh, cry!” he exclaimed. “Cry all you want to. I reckon you’ll cry yo’ fill befo’ you gits me back. What do I keer about de baby! Dat’s jes’ de trouble. It wa’n’t enough fu’ me to have to feed an’ clothe you a-layin’ ’roun’ doin’ nothin’, a baby had to go an’ come too.” “It’s yo’n, an’ you got a right to tek keer of it, dat’s what you have. I ain’t a-gwine to waih my soul-case out a-tryin’ to pinch along an’ sta’ve to def at las’. I’ll kill myse’f an’ de chile, too, fus.” The man looked up quickly. “Kill yo’se’f,” he said. Then he laughed. “Who evah hyeahed tell of a niggah killin’ hisse’f?” “Nev’ min’, nev’ min’, you jes’ go on yo’ way rejoicin’. I ’spect you runnin’ ’roun’ aftah somebody else—dat’s de reason you cain’t nevah stay at home no mo’.”