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"Old Bess, that's the Cunnel's favoright dawg, you-all know, she done have 'leven puppies las' night." "That so?" "Yassah. Cunnel, he's off down on the Sun-flowah." "Um-h-h." "Yassah; got most all his dawgs wid 'im. We goin' to have b'ah meat now for sho'," this with a wide grin. "Reckon so," said the visitor. "When's Cunnel coming back, you reckon?"
"I dunno, suh, but he sho' won't come back lessen he gets a b'ah. If you-all could wait a while, yon-all could take back some b'ah meat, if you wantuh." "Um-h-h," said the man, and fell again into silence. To all appearances, he was willing to wait here indefinitely, forgetful of the pail of milk, toward which the sun was now creeping ominously close.
The sunbonnet shifted to include the mulatto girl within its full vision, as the latter stood leaning her weight on one side-bent foot, idly wiping her hands upon her apron. "Folks all well down to yo' place, Mistah Bowles?" said she, affably. "Right well." "Um-h-h." Silence then fell until Jinny again found speech.
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