Ginny broke out into a loud, whooping laugh. “You ain’t got no sins, Tucky,” she guffawed. “You ain’t nothin’ but a idjut—an’ no limb didn’t fall on you, neither. You was nachel-bawned dat way. Idjuts ain’t responsible!”
Chuckling to herself, she picked up her fast-reviving hen, carried it back to a large hen-house on the other side of her home, and threw it inside the door. Closing the door she waddled back, and waved a fat hand at the three men. “Don’t fergit dat Ginny’s got a hoodoo face, niggers!” she bawled.
“Huh!” Dinner Gaze grunted. “Listen to dat ole fat fool!”
“Come on, niggers,” Tucky Sugg said in a disgusted tone. “Less git away from dis place.”
As the three men walked down the street, Skeeter said: “Dinner, is you ever had any expe’unce ’tendin’ bar?”
“Yes, suh.”
“Would you wish to he’p Pap Curtain take keer of my saloom fer de nex’ ten days?” he asked next.
“It’ll suit me fine,” Dinner told him.
They discussed the business for a little while, then Skeeter left them at the next corner.
“I leaves it wid you an’ Pap, Dinner,” Skeeter said. “I needs a leetle rest an’ I’s gwine to trabbel some.”