ACorrection
In some undiscoverable way, a section was dropped out of
lames Ross's story, "Roman," in the last issue. We print below the
missing pages of the story, and we print,
at
the beginning and
at
the end of the mis.sing section, the paragraphs between which the
excision occurred. The error was made on page 382 of the last
issue. We wish to express to Mr. Ross our regret and apologies.
-THE EDITORS
He went to Old Man White's place all right, but he never farmed a
lick. He started making liquor with a tin tub outfit and he made the sor·
riest and rawest liquor I ever tasted in my life. But he could make it cheap
that way and in a little while he was underselling me. After that he broad–
ened out; in the end he took most of my trade away from me. I didn't like
that but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I never did say any·
thing about it nor let on .that it mattered one way or the other to me. I
could have made my liquor the way Roman made his, but that wasn't my
way. I don't make any filthy liquor.
If
the people who drink it want sorry
stuff that's their business. But they'll have to buy it from somebody else
besides me.
Roman cut in on me in other ways. Before long it got so that I
couldn't get any of the niggers that I trusted to help me make liquor, so I
just had to go along making what little I could by myself. Then one night
somebody came to my still and busted it up. They completely wrecked it
and left it there in the honeysuckle vines, except for the copper tubing and
the worm. It was a good worm. I guess they took that with them.
I had to stop making liquor after that. I had five thousand dollars
