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to a hault at an intersection of bricks laid streets in an area called old Virginia mannor. The homes are well constructed and date back two generations of upper-middle class. The boys begin to unload and stack the bailed newspapers designated for this stop. A women in her early thirities approaches. She is well dressed and reasonably attractive. The women has been let off at the beginning of her steps with a obvious ethnic decent, by another lady possibly ten years her senior, who has parked her car, and is now carrying the thin type of boxes made for clothing in the fancy shops up a stone walk and into her home, above a manacured lawn. Although the lady has retained much of the figure of youth, she comes on to Ben with a controled and deliberate voice of a much older women set into the conservitive ways of the upper middle- class fifties. She is speaking: "What are these boys doing with you and this paper truck. They should be in school?" Ben is out of his truck now helping the boys. "Hey lady," he says. "We're setting up a situation. How about it now, let's everybody go about their own business." She stands back. Narrowed ing and speaks. "I'm calling the school board and the labor people. What are your names boys? I can see that your not from his part of town." Ben begins to pace up and down snickering and shaking his head. The boys notice Ben's displeasureable humor; and begin to giggle. "I'll just get the licence," she says going to the back of the truck.