But in the matter of wardrobe Wayne at least had the better of his
companion. Junius Brutus Bartow Tasker was never a dandy. Just
something to cover him up more or less was all June asked. His
shoes, which had been new just before the beginning of the present
pilgrimage, were the most presentable item of his attire. They only
needed blacking. The other things he wore needed about everything,
including patches, buttons, and cleaning! His cheap cotton trousers
would have proved an embarrassment to anyone of a less philosophical
nature, his shirt was sadly torn and his coat--well, that coat had been
a wreck a year ago and had not improved any since! Between the tops of
his shoes and the frayed bottoms of his trousers appeared a crinkled
expanse of gray yarn socks, to the public all that socks should be,
but to June only two hollow mockeries. Below his ankle bones lay ruin
and desolation. On his kinky head was a brown felt, or what had once
been a brown felt. It no longer deserved serious consideration as a
head covering. But all this didn’t bother June much. As I have already
hinted, he was a philosopher, and a cheerful one. You had only to
look at him to realise that. He had a perfectly round face, as round
as a cannon ball--and lots blacker--a pair of merry brown eyes which
rolled ludicrously under the stress of emotion, a wide, vividly red
mouth filled with startlingly white teeth, a nose no flatter than was
appropriate to one of his race, and ears that stood out inquiringly at
right angles. He looked and was intelligent, and, barring the colour of
his skin, was not greatly different in essentials from the white boy
beside him. June was sixteen, as near as he could tell; his mother’s
memory for ages was uncertain, and June couldn’t consult his father on
the question for the simple reason that his father had disappeared very
soon after June’s arrival in the world. Besides, there were five other
youthful Taskers, some older and some younger, and June’s mother might
well be excused for uncertainty as to the exact age of any one of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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