“What were they like, June?”
“Well, sir, they was bow-knots made of bread, an’ they tasted mighty scrumptious. Seems like they was called ‘pistols’ or somethin’.”
“Pretzels, June?”
“That’s it! Pretzels! You know them things, Mas’ Wayne?” Wayne shook his head. “Well, sir, they’s mighty good eatin’.”
“Did he give you one?” asked Wayne smiling.
“Yes, sir, he surely did. I say I ain’ never eat one an’ he say if I have a penny I could have one. ‘Go long, Mister Man,’ I say, ‘I ain’ got no penny. How come you ’spects I got all that money?’ An’ he laugh an’ say, ‘Well, maybe I give you one, Black Boy, if you don’ tell someone elses.’ He had funny way of talkin’, that man. So I say I won’t ever tell——”
“But you have told,” laughed Wayne.
June rolled his eyes. “That’s so! I plumb forget!”
“Was that all the lunch you had?” asked Wayne.