level whites.

Down Malvern Avenue (Hot springs' Beale Street) went the interviewer. On
she went past the offices of a large Chicago packing house. For better
then a block she trudged by dilapidated shops which a few seasons back
had housed one of the key transient centers of the U.S.A. Down the
street she walked, pausing for a moment to note that coffee colored
faces decorated the placards in the beauty shop window--two well groomed
mulatto girls sitting inside, evidently operators. Her course took her
past sandwich joints and pool halls. Nails, she noted as she drifted
along, had been driven into the projection beneath the plate glass
window of the brick bank (closed during the depression--a building and
bank built, owned and operated by negro capital) to keep loungers away.
The colored theater (negroes are admitted only to the balconies of
theaters in Hot Springs--one section of the balcony at the legitimate
theater) she noticed was now serving as a religious gathering place. The
well built and excellently maintained Pythian Bath house (where the hot
waters are made available to colored folk) with the Alice Eve Hospital
(45 beds, 5 nurses, 2 resident physicians--negro doctors thruout the
town cooperating--surgical work a specialty) stood out in quiet dignity.
For the rest, buildings were an indiscriminate hodge-podge of homes,
apartment houses, shacks, and chain groceries. At the corner where "the
street turns white" the interviewer turned east.

The Langston High School (for colored--with a reputation for turning out
good cooks, football players and academicians) stands on Silver Street.
A few paces from the building the interviewer met a couple of plump
colored women laughing and talking loudly.

"I beg your pardon," was her greeting, "can you tell me where Wade