For a whole day I puzzled over this problem. For a whole day my faith in my people was shaken. When I passed by that afternoon the little boys were not there. That evening I thought deeply on the subject.

The next morning the boys were there again, and a man was standing at the gate watching them. I stopped and looked, just to see what the white boy was making his little servant do. To my utter astonishment the little dark boy was striding imperiously up and down the lawn, while the white youngster walked abjectly behind him.

'Get me a banana!' The little boy ran into the house and reappeared shortly with a banana. 'Peel it for me!' the little white boy peeled the banana and handed it to his dark master.

I saw it now. It was indeed a game, a game I had played as a child. Each boy took it in turn every alternate day to be the boss, the other the slave. It had been great fun to me as a youngster. I smiled as I remembered. I looked at the man standing by the gate. He was a white man. I remembered what I had thought yesterday. He, no doubt, I thought to myself, was wondering if the black race is superior to the white. I laughed gently to myself. How silly grown-ups are, how clever we are, how wonderfully able we are, to impute deep motives to childish actions! This man, I said to myself, will puzzle all day on whether the blacks will eventually rise and rule the world because he thinks he sees a little black boy realizing at a tender age his superiority over the white. I will save him from his puzzle. I will explain it to him. I went across to him.

'I know what you're thinking,' I said. 'You're thinking that may be the black race is superior to the white, because you just saw the little dark youngster on the lawn ordering the little white boy around. Don't think that; it's a game they play. Alternate days one is the boss, the other the servant. It's a grand game. I used to play it and may be so did you. Yesterday I saw the little white boy bossing the dark one and I worried all day over the dark boy's realisation of his inferiority so young in life! We are silly, we grown-ups, aren't we?'

The man was surprised at my outburst. He looked at me smiling. 'I know all about the game,' he said. 'The boys are brothers — my sons.' He pointed to a handsome brown woman on the verandah who had just come out to call in the children. 'That's my wife', he said.

I smiled. My spirit laughed within me. This is Jamaica, I said in my heart, this is my country — my people. I looked at the white man. He smiled at me. 'We'll miss the tram if we don't hurry,' he said.