Clowns! Jazzers! Band of dancers!... Harriett! Jimboy! Aunt Hager!... A band of dancers!... Sandy remembered his grandmother whirling around in front of the altar at revival meetings in the midst of the other sisters, her face shining with light, arms outstretched as though all the cares of the world had been cast away; Harriett in the back yard under the apple-tree, eagle-rocking in the summer evenings to the tunes of the guitar; Jimboy singing... But was that why Negroes were poor, because they were dancers, jazzers, clowns?... The other way round would be better: dancers because of their
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