They say he never got over his weddin‘. He was supposed to marry one of the—the Spencer ladies, I think.
They were gonna have a huge weddin’, but they didn’t—after the rehearsal the bride went upstairs and blew her head off.
Shotgun. She pulled the trigger with her toes.” “Did they ever know why?”
“No,” said Jem, “nobody ever knew quite why but Mr. Dolphus.
They said it was because she found out about his colored woman, he reckoned he could keep her and get married too.
He’s been sorta drunk ever since. You know, though, he’s real good to those chillun—
“Jem,” I asked, “what’s a mixed child?” “Half white, half colored.
You’ve seen ‘em, Scout. You know that red-kinky-headed one that delivers for the drugstore.
He’s half white. They’re real sad.” “Sad, how come?
They don’t belong anywhere. Colored folks won’t have ‘em because they’re half white;
white folks won’t have ’em cause they’re colored, so they’re just in-betweens, don’t belong anywhere.
But Mr. Dolphus, now, they say he’s shipped two of his up north. They don’t mind ‘em up north. Yonder’s one of ’em.”
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