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Updated: June 24, 2025
Petticoats is always lingery, but lingery ain't always petticoats. See?" "I don't. I don't see a-tall. I think yo're goin' crazy. That's what I think. Nemmine. Nemmine. If you say lingery at me again I won't let you introduce me to yore girl." "She ain't my girl," denied Racey, reddening. "But you'd like her to be, huh? Shore. What does she think about it? Which one of 'em is she?"
"Grass awready cut roun' back," responded the amiable voice of Genesis, while the lawnmower ceased not to whir. "Cut all 'at back yod 's mawnin'." "Well, you can't cut the front yard now. Go around in the back yard and take that dog with you." "Nemmine 'bout 'at back yod! Ole Clem ain' trouble nobody." "You hear what I tell you?" William shouted. "You do what I say and you do it quick!"
Pete sniffed in scorn of the uninitiated. "Well, nemmine why! You do like I tells yer, or yer'll git yer eggercation wid a brick. Now den! One two t'ree! Hump it, bo!" They humped it, making the other alley's mouth by a margin slim indeed, followed by human howls and a clattering volley of sticks and stones. "Good gracious!" the Persian gasped, as they streaked through the alley's filth.
"Look here, white folks," began the negro, "Ah don't want no trouble, but youall mustn't go rangin' aroun' thoo mah place like this here 'thout 'splainin' yourselfs. This is mah fahm." "Yes, it is your farm," cried Frank. "You've got as many farms as a hen's got teeth! All your farms are in your mind!" "Nemmine about dat, boys," grinned the black.
But ef yo' say 'taint right why, pleas ma'am git a pair o' scissors an' prize it out, tho' I done brought de belt fer de sake ob dat buckle. Well, nemmine. I reckons I kin keep it, an' if I ever marhrys agin it sho will come in handy." The combined efforts of Mrs. Harold, Peggy and Polly eventually got Minervy passably presentable as to raiment, but there they gave up the obligation.
"Nemmine where," smiled Racey, for both Bill and Rod had been his friends in his 88 days and could therefore insult him with impunity. "I wouldn't wanna put li'l boys in the way of temptation. Does the cook still spank him regular, Rod?" "Stab his hoss with the scissors, Rod," begged Bill Allen. "Let's see what for a rider Mr. Dawson is." Racey pressed his off rein against his horse's neck.
"It's a long way to Arizona," offered Racey Dawson, casually too casually. Swing Tunstall's bristle-haired head jerked round. Swing bent two suspicious eyes upon his friend. "You just find it out?" he queried. "No, oh, no," denied Racey. "I've been thinking about it some time." "Thinking!" sneered Swing. "That's a new one for you." "Nemmine," countered Racey. "It ain't catchin' to you."
That great mold of ice cream, mound of golden wine jelly, dishes of cakes galore would certainly have met total destruction but for her prompt and emphatic command: "Yo' chillern 'tend to yo' bisness an' nemmine what gwine on over yander." That saved the feast, for the little darkies were convinced that "one ob dose young mens liked ter be kill fer suah."
Taint nevah right to git a lady's cur'osity riz." "Oh, nemmine, nemmine, I ain't gwine keep yo' cur'osity up long. You see, Sistah Griggs, you done 'lucidated one p'int to me dis night dat meks it plumb needful fu' me to speak." She was looking at him with wide open eyes of expectation. "You made de 'emark to-night, dat it ain't no ha'dah lookin' out aftah two dan one." "Oh, Brothah Hayward!"
Thompson, it appeared, did understand. He grunted sulkily. "We'll have to give Peaches Austin a show," resumed the stranger. "Nemmine giving me a argument, Punch. I said I'd use Austin. C'mon, le's go get a drink." The three men moved away. Racey Dawson cautiously eased his long body up from behind the pony.
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