“Lawd, honey, I feels a whole passel better since I sot my eyes on you. You’s prettier’n a little pig. But I been feelin’ powerful sick.”
“Whut ails you?” the girl asked with instant sympathy.
“I’s got a wo-begone spasm in my stomick an’ a empty feelin’ in my head.”
“Dat’s too bad,” Dainty said. “Would a little drap——”
“Yes’m,” Hitch responded promptly. “Dat’s jes’ de med’cine I needs. De dorctor obscribes brandy fer all my ailments.”
Dainty extracted a key from the pocket of her dress and opened the door of a little storeroom which contained a little trunk. Drawing forth another key, she opened the trunk and brought out a jug.
“I’s glad Dude didn’t come to de house wid you,” Dainty remarked. “I don’t let him hab no more booze. He come home ’bout two weeks ago an’ couldn’t git past dat oak tree out dar in dat yard. He seed two trees whar dar wusn’t but jes’ only one, an’ he mighty nigh butted his fool head off tryin’ to walk between dem trees.”
She set the jug and the drinking glass beside Hitch Diamond and took her seat in a rickety hide-bottomed chair.
Hitch looked at the glass, picked it up and fumbled it, and set it down apologetically.
“Sister Dainty,” he murmured, “ef you ain’t got no objections, I’ll drink outen dis jug de way I wus raised.”