“I shore would!” Skeeter exclaimed eagerly.
“I’s glad to hear you say dat, suh,” Deo replied. “I’s gwine gib a free pass to you an’ Mr. Bush, an’ I hopes you will speak up my show fer me. Admission ten cents fer chillun an’ two-bits fer growed-ups!”
He handed Skeeter and Figger a slip of paper apiece, and rose and walked out of the saloon, leaving the two men to gaze after him in speechless astonishment. After a long time, Figger remarked:
“You done got yo’ wuck cut out fer you, Skeeter. You know how batty female womans is about show folks!”
A show given by negroes will attract other negroes as a barrel of molasses attracts flies. The little hall in Dirty-Six was filled to its capacity a long time before the hour of the exhibition.
Skeeter Butts and Figger Bush occupied the front seat directly facing the center of the stage.
“Whar is Tella Tandy, Figger?” Skeeter asked uneasily, scanning the faces in the crowd. “I went to her house atter her an’ dey tole me she’d done went. But I don’t see her.”
“She’ll git here on time,” Figger assured him. “She ain’t hatin’ dis Deo Diddle none, an’ she’ll watch him pufform.”
Then the ragged curtain parted in the middle, one half being pulled to each side of the stage.