"'Twarn't no use to say nothin', she flew off into one o' her tantrums, and scolded me like all possessed. I don't like her, anyhow, and dat's all 'bout it!"
"But is dat all?" questioned Dolf, in a disappointed tone.
"No, it ain't all; jis' wait and don't go off de handle afore you knows which end you've got hold on."
"But de tree, Clorindy," said Dolf; "tell me 'bout de tree."
"I'se comin' to dat," replied Clo, growing eager again. "I'd ben down to see Dinah Jameson, at de cross roads; it was real late; we'd had a prayer meetin' and I kinder forgot myself in de refreshin' season——"
"Yes," said Dolf, fearing she would go off in a long digression and lose sight of the all-important topic, "dey is refreshin'; as preserves is to de taste so is meetin's to de spirit—soothin', yer know."
"Jis' so," said Clorinda.
"Wal, yer was comin' home," suggested Dolf.
"Yes; two or tree on 'em came with me to de gate and dar dey left me. I heeled it up de avenue jis' as hard as I could, but when I got near de house I thort, suppose missus should see me, she's a pokin up at all hours, she'd scold me like smoke. I jis' cut out ob de road to take de path trough de thicket, and came in sight ob de ole cypress tree."
Clorinda broke off abruptly to recover her breath and to allow her narrative to have its full effect upon her listener.