"Sister Sickety, us three niggers is a cormittee of three app'inted to wait in privut on Brudder Plaster Sickety an' hol' a secret confab wid him," Vinegar announced pompously.
"I don't allow my husbunt to hab no secrets from me," Pearline answered looking suspiciously at her old sweetheart, Hitch Diamond.
"Dis am a man's pussonal bizzness, Pearline," Hitch Diamond rumbled. "A nigger woman is got to butt out."
"But I's chained up wid Plaster," Pearline protested.
"Git over agin dat wall while dese gen'lemens whispers to me," Plaster remarked, giving her a push toward the chair which he had occupied under similar circumstances a short time before.
The three committeemen walked up close to Plaster, draped their arms over his shoulders, and talked in whispers, but guffawed out loud. Because Pearline was present their eyes irresistibly sought hers, especially when they laughed—what man can keep from looking at the woman in a room?—and Pearline inferred that they were talking and laughing about her. She strained her ears to hear, but not a word enlightened her ignorance. Then with a loud laugh the three men patted Plaster on the back and took themselves off.
"Whut did them niggers want, Plaster?" Pearline demanded in irate tones.
"Dat's a fambly secret," Plaster quoted mockingly.
"I felt like a fool wid dem mens lookin' at me an' snickerin'," the woman complained. "Wus dey talkin' about me?"
"Yes'm," the man chuckled.