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She gathered up the clothes basket and went into an adjoining room, leaving Kintchin to muse alone. He heard the low whistle of a backwoodsman's improvised tune, and looking up, saw a man leaning against the door-facing. To the old negro the new comer was not a stranger.
The Lord wants us to enjoy ourselves, but we should not jump on the hoss of pleasure and gallop too fur away from the gospel of truth." Kintchin ducked his woolly head. "Keep on foolin' roun' an' dis yere white man call up mourners," he declared.
He halted and attempted to say something, but Kintchin drove on, muttering that he had no time for words that a fellow chewed all to pieces. The boy tried to shout his defiance, but "you are a a a f f f ," was all he could utter and even this was forestalled by Kintchin, who called back at him: "Oh, we knows all erbout dat."
Several days later, while old black mammy was ironing in the sitting room, Kintchin came in at the door which always stood open, and looking about, slowly went up to the old woman and inquired if she needed any more wood. "No," she answered, not looking at him, "I's nearly done." Kintchin scratched his head.
"Yas, suh, ter kiver de spring house;" and scratching his head he stood for a moment as if in deep thought. "An' look yere, Mr. Starbuck, while I'se gone to the pos' office don't you reckon you kin think up suthin' fur me ter do?" "How willing he is to work," Mrs. Mayfield sympathetically remarked. Kintchin ducked his head at her. "W'y, Lawd bless yo' life, honey, I doan know nuthin' else.
"Well, you have teached that nigger nearly enough impudence to break his neck." "Didn't know I was sich a good teacher, Lije. Don't you want a few lessons? Go on, Kintchin." The negro slowly went away, looking back and shaking his head, and Starbuck added: "Peters, I'm afraid I'll have to furgit my raisin' an' ask you what you want." "I want to give you the opportunity to have some sense."
"I seed Miss Margaret an' Miss Lou out yander jest now," Kintchin answered, backing off as Peters advanced toward him. "I didn't ask about them. Whew, what you got sich a hot fire in here for?" "Mammy's been ironin'." "Yes. Been a meltin iron I should think. Is Starbuck at home? Answer me, you scoundrel."
"You'll not get it," said Jim. "Dat ends it. Oh, I likes preachers likes ter yere 'em talk, but I ain't nebber got no money outen one yit. Da all time talk erbout gib whut you got ter de po' an' foller on, an' da follers all right; but I ain't seen 'em gibbin' nuthin'." "They give to the spirit, Kintchin," remarked Mrs. Mayfield. "Yas'm. But sometimes I'd leetle ruther da give ter de pocket.
One of these days somebody will fill him so full of lead you couldn't turn him over with a hand spike." Kintchin appeared at the door, stretching himself and rubbing his eyes. "What have you been doin'?" "Who, me?" "Yes, you." "Wall, suh, I ain't been ersleep ef dat whut you means." "Then why didn't you answer me?"
"L l l look out, I'll r r run over you," and he lunged forward with his load, just missing Peters, who jumping to one side cried out: "Yes, you stuttering pig, if you can't wheel no strai'ter than you can talk." When Mose was gone Peters inquired of Kintchin: "Whar's Starbuck?" "He wuz out yander jest now an' he'll come ez soon as he know you yere.
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