“Shut up!” I screamed, which seemed only to enrage the hidden knocker. The din was deafening. Tenants up and down the entire line of apartments joined in. I hammered back with the iron naps, seeing the silver fly, striking like driven sand against my face. The pipe fairly hummed with the blows. Windows were going up. Voices yelled obscenities down the airshaft. Who started all this, I wondered, who’s responsible? “Why don’t you act like responsible people living in the twentieth century?” I yelled, aiming a blow at the pipe. “Get rid of your cottonpatch ways! Act civilized!”
