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CHILDREN'S BLACK LITERATURE               YOUNG

Merritwether walked in the dimness to the back of the store and began to work on an old camera.

Rondall thought about what Mr. Merriwether had said. All the while, he walked around the store and looked at all the different things. It was often hard to move because there was little room. There was only a narrow aisle that led from the front door straight through to the back door. The youth worked his way toward the middle of the store, where he noticed something that looked like a motorcycle. As he began to examine it more carefully, Mr. Merriwether called from the back of the store, "See that ol' cycle, boy? Well I've had that ol' thing now goin' on thirty years. I've taken it apart and put it together near a hundred times. Don't know if it runs, but it sure is fun to work with. Boy, I bet you didn't think that these ol' hands could do that. You know what ... these ol' hands is strong. They real strong."

Rondall looked into the darkness toward Mr. Merriwether as he talked. His eyes then roamed around the store and came to rest on a shiny tan box that was on a shelf near where Mr. Merriwether stood. How odd it seemed to him that everything else in the store was covered with dust except this box. When he was right next ot the box, he ran his finger over the surface of it and found he was right. There was not a speck of dust on the box.

Rondall couldn't help wondering, why was this box placed with such care on the shelf? What was in the box? Should he look inside? Would Mr. Merriwether mind? As all these things ran through his mind, Mr. Merriwether turned toward Rondall and said, "So you found the box, boy. Take it off the shelf easy and come with me over by the fire where we can see. But be careful, boy! Be careful not to drop it."

The boy stoop on the tips of his toes and gently but firmly slid the box off the shelf. He held it tightly and walked toward the fire. When he sat on the floor next to Mr. Merriwether, he was still asking himself what was in the box.

"Now, boy, take the top off." Rondall did. As he lifted the top of the box, he could see the face of a man in an old silver frame looking straight at him. "Boy, do you know who that is?" Rondall looked at Mr. Merriwether with a puzzled face. He looked down again to examine the picture more carefully this time. The man in the tattered frame had smooth brown skin, soft grey hair and deep serious eyes.

"Boy, do you know who that is?"

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