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ron smoking stands pleted the furnishings。
I was attracted to the framed photographs on the walls。 Each photo was framed in a cheap glass…covered black frame； the type sold in dime stores。 Most of the glossy photos were of gamecocks； but there were several photos of Ed Middleton and his cronies。 An old cover page of The Southern Cockfighter； with a four…color drawing of Ed Middleton's famous cock Freddy； held the place of honor above the desk。 Freddy had won nineteen fights and had died in his coop ten years before。 Anywhere chicken talk is held； Freddy's name es up sooner or later。
Mr。 Middleton reentered the room； carrying sheets； a blanket and a pillow under his right arm； and a portable television set in his left hand。 He tossed the bedcovers on the couch； placed the portable set on the seat of the red straight…backed chair； and plugged the cord into the wall socket。
〃I told Martha you wouldn't need a blanket； but you know how women are。〃
I nodded。 I knew how women were。 I began to make up the lumpy couch with the sheets。
〃To give you something to do； I brought in the TV。 It isn't much good but you can get Orlando； anyway。 I'd stay up and keep you pany for a while； but I'm pretty tired。 This has been a long day for an old man。〃
I soon had the couch made up； but Mr。 Middleton lingered in the room。 He studied a photograph of a framed cock on the wall； and beckoned to me as I started to sit down。
〃e here； Frank。 Take a look at this cock。 It's a phenomenon in breeding and you'll never see another like it。 A bird called Bright Boy； one of the most courageous birds I ever owned。 Yet it was bred from a father and a daughter。 By all the rules； a cock bred that way usually runs every time； but this beauty never did。 He was killed in his second fight in a drag pitting。 Sorry now I didn't keep him for a brood cock to see what would have happened。 I suppose there are similar cases； but this is the only one I really know is true。 Did you ever hear of a real fighter bred of father and daughter？〃
I shook my head。 If true； and I doubted Ed's story； this was an unusual case。 When it es to cocks of the same blood； those bred from mother and son have the biggest heart for fighting to the death。 Somebody had probably switched an egg on old Ed。
〃Every time a man thinks he's got the answers on cockbreeding； something like this happens to teach him something new。 I'm going to be pretty well lost without my chickens； Frank； but I've got a lot of stuff stored away in that trunk； old game…strain records and so on。 Maybe I could write a useful book on breeding。〃 He shook his head sadly。 〃I don't know。 I suppose I'll find something to do with my time。〃
To get rid of him； I clapped him on the shoulder； sat down； and unbuckled my jodhpur boots。
I was growing weary of always being on the receiving end of personal confidences and long sad stories。 The man who is unable to talk back is at the mercy of these people。 He is like an inexperienced priest who listens tolerantly to the first simple confessions of impure thoughts； and then listens with increasing horror as the sins mount； one outdoing the other until he is shocked into dumbness。 And； of course； the sinner takes advantage of a man's credulousness； loading ever greater sins upon him to see how far he can really go now that he has found a trapped listener who is unable to stop him。 My ears had been battered by the outpourings of troubles； tribulations； aspirations； and the affairs of broken hearts for two years and seven months。 Only by being rude enough to leave the scene had I evaded some of my confessors。
But Ed Middleton was wise enough to take the hint。
〃Good night； Frank；〃 he said finally； 〃I'll see you in the morning；〃 and the door closed behind him。
After taking a needed shower I switched on the little television set and sat on the couch to watch the gray； shimmering images。 There was a lot of snow； and jagged bars of black appeared much too often。 In less than five minutes I was forced to turn it off。 I'm not overly fond of television anyway。 Traveling around so much I have never formed the habit of watching it。 And I've never owned a set。
I was impressed by this pleasant room of Ed Middleton's。 It was a man's room； and if he really wanted to write a book about cock…breeding； it was certainly quiet enough。 I doubted； however； that he would ever write one。 What Ed Middleton did with his remaining years was no concern of mine； and yet I found myself worried about him。 He had been fighting game fowl and refereering pit matches for thirty…odd years。 Without any birds to fool around with； what could he possibly do with his time？ I felt sorry for the old man。
He had a nice home； his wife was a wonderful woman； and the Citrus Syndicate took care of his orange groves。 He had turned over the operation of his groves to the Central Citrus Syndicate some years back。 In return； they paid him a good percentage on the crop each year； and now he didn't have to do anything with his trees except to watch them grow。 By giving up cockfighting he was giving up his entire existence； and； like most elderly men who retire； he probably wouldn't live very long…with nothing to do。 Martha was wrong； dead wrong； in forcing Ed to give up his game chickens。
Mary Elizabeth's opposition to the sport was the major reason we had never gotten married。 Why can't the American woman accept a man for what he is instead of trying to make him over into the idealized image of her father on someone else？
There was no use worrying about Ed Middleton。 I had problems of my own that were more pressing。 But with a little pushing from me； my problems would somehow take care of themselves。 All I knew was that I had to do what I knew best how to do。 Nothing else mattered。
I switched off the light and； despite the lumpiness of the beat…up old couch； fell asleep within minutes。
4
It seemed as if I had only been asleep for about five minutes when the lights were switched on and Ed Middleton yelled at me to get up。
〃Are you going to sleep all day？〃 he shouted gruffly。 〃I've been up for more than an hour already。 e on out to the kitchen when you get dressed。 I've got a pot of coffee on。〃
Reluctantly； I sat up； kicked off the sheet； and swung my feet to the floor。 The door banged shut and I looked at my wristwatch。 Five thirty。 It was pretty late to be sleeping。 No wonder Ed had hollered at me。 I stumbled into the bathroom。 After a quick shave I dug some clean white socks out of my suitcase； and put on the same clothes I had worn the day before。 I joined Ed in the kitchen； and sat at the breakfast nook。
〃We can eat breakfast later； Frank；〃 he said； pouring two cups of coffee。 〃Coffee'll hold us for a while。 I want to show you something first。〃
I drank the coffee black； and it was thick enough to slice with my knife。
〃You want a glass of orange juice？〃
I held up a hand to show that coffee was enough for now。
Ed refilled my cup； set the pot back on the stove； and paced up and down on the shiny terrazzo floor。 He wore an old pair of blue bib overalls and an expensive； embroidered short…sleeved