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There's a pair of Mr. Becker's old shoes, good as new, waiting to be given away." "Carrie!" "Miss Lilly loves pickles. George, do as I say." "Carrie!" "Law! Mistah Beckah, I knows Mis' Beckah and her ways. Law! I doan take no offense." "I wish if you want extras, Carrie, you would buy them. It is a darn shame to make yourself so small before the other boarders."
The old shoulders would shake, the face crinkle into a raisin, and the little spade of gray beard heave to the springy laughter. "Law! Mrs. Beckah. if you ain't the greatest one to joke." "Joke nothing. It's a fine match. A good upstanding church member like you and a fine-looking woman like Willie." Lilly would turn a quirking but disapproving eye upon her mother.
That's the way with you people. I get you all your customers and then you neglect me for them." "Law! Mrs. Beckah, how cum you think that? Don't I give you and Miss Lilly shampoos for two bits when I chawges Mrs. Kemble three heads for a dollar?" "Yes, but what about the underwear and socks of Mr. Becker's that you get?" "I allas say I 'ain't got no bettah friend than Mrs. Beckah.
Becker, the negro race was largely and genetically christened Gawge, to be addressed solely in native patois. "Evenin', Gawge." "Evenin', Mistah Beckah." "George, are you going to take good care of my husband to-night? That piece of steak you served him yesterday wasn't fit to eat." "Law now, Mis' Beckah, kin I help it if de best de kitchen has ain't none too good?" "Don't tell me!
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