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The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade: "Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?" "Yes." "What'll you take for her?" "What'll you give?" "Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook."
"What you doin'?" asked Maurice for the third time, Sam Williams not having decided upon a reply. It was Penrod who answered. "Drinkin' lickrish water," he said simply, and wiped his mouth with such delicious enjoyment that Sam's jaded thirst was instantly stimulated. He took the bottle eagerly from Penrod. "A-a-h!" exclaimed Penrod, smacking his lips. "That was a good un!"
"What you want to waste that lickrish water for? We ought to keep it to drink when we're tired." "I guess I got a right to use my own lickrish water any way I want to," replied the prescription clerk. "I tell you, you can't get smallpox medicine too strong. Look at her now!" He held the bottle up admiringly. "She's as black as lickrish. I bet you she's strong all right!"
Lounging in the doorway, the near-vivisectionists sipped licorice water alternately and conversed. "I bet some of our smallpox medicine would fix ole P'fessor Bartet all right!" quoth Penrod. "I wish he'd come along and ask us for some." "We could tell him it was lickrish water," added Sam, liking the idea. "The two bottles look almost the same."
"Yay, Penrod!" the visitor gave greeting. "Yay," said Penrod with slight enthusiasm. "What you got?" "Lickrish water." "Drinkin's!" demanded Penrod promptly. This is equivalent to the cry of "Biters" when an apple is shown, and establishes unquestionable title.
The church's high-backed, uncushioned pews would seat about three hundred persons; the edifice was but a small, plain affair, with a sort of pine board tree-box on top of it for a steeple. At the door Tom dropped back a step and accosted a Sunday-dressed comrade: "Say, Billy, got a yaller ticket?" "Yes." "What'll you take for her?" "What'll you give?" "Piece of lickrish and a fish-hook."
"Looky here, M'rice," he continued, assuming a more placative and reasoning tone, "that wouldn't be fair to us. I guess we want some of our own lickrish water, don't we? The bottle ain't much over two-thirds full anyway. What I meant was, you can have all you can drink at one pull." "How do you mean?"
'Twern't nuffin laik dat." "But what was it? Your hand is hurt!" "Well, Massa Tom, I s'pose I done bettah tell yo' all. I'se had a shock!" "A shock?" "Yas, sah. A shock. A lickrish shock." "Oh, you mean an electrical shock. That's too bad. I suppose you must have touched a live wire." "No, sah. 'Twern't dat way." "How was it, then?" "Well, yo' see, Massa Tom, I were playin' a joke on Koku."
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