Before I would let a Jap,
either boy or girl, lead in my class, I would give up going to
school and go out and see if I could beat him growing lettuce and
spinach."
"It's all very well to talk," said Donald hotly.
"And it's better to make good what you say," broke in Linda, with
equal heat. "There are half a dozen Japs in my classes but no
one of them is leading, you will notice, if I do wear peculiar
shoes."
"Well, you would be going some if you beat the leading Jap in the
senior class," said Donald.
"Then I would go some," said Linda. "I'd beat him, or I'd go
straight up trying. You could do it if you'd make up your mind
to. The trouble with you is that you're wasting your brain on
speeding an automobile, on dances, and all sorts of foolishness
that is not doing you any good in any particular way. Bet you
are developing nerves smoking cigarettes. You are not
concentrating. Oka Sayye is not thinking of a thing except the
triumph of proving to California that he is head man in one of
the Los Angeles high schools. That's what I have got against
you, and every other white boy in your class, and in the long run
it stacks up bigger than your arraignment of my shoes."
"Oh, darn your shoes!" cried Donald hotly. "Forget 'em! I've got
to move on or I'll be late for trigonometry, but I don't know
when I've had such a tidy little fight with a girl, and I don't
enjoy feeling that I have been worsted. I propose another
session.
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