Further E. K. Means / Is This a Title? It Is Not. It Is the Name of a Writer of Negro Stories, Who Has Made Himself So Completely the Writer of Negro Stories That This Third Book, Like the First and Second, Needs No Title

by E. K. Means

“How come you an’ Skeeter is bofe lef’ yo’ bizzness to come out here, Figger?” he inquired.

“Dar ain’t no bizzness wid dis frolic gwine on,” Figger said.

“You better git to wuckin’ up some new bizzness,” the old man remarked. “Pap Curtain is jes’ tole me he wus gwine run you-alls out.”

“We been talkin’ about dat,” Skeeter broke in.

“Pap’s tryin’ to pick a widder an’ us is wonderin’ how we kin bump him off de job.”

“I’s gittin’ to be a awful ole fool,” Popsy sighed. “I jes’ dis minute suggested to Pap dat he ought to marry dat widder an’ git her out of her misery an’ her mournin’.”

“Whut you mean by doin’ dat, Popsy?” Skeeter snapped. “You done ruint us. I’s thinkin’ about firin’ Figger now because our bizzness is got so bum wid prohibition an’ all dem yuther troubles.”

“Mebbe I could go back an’ tell Pap he is makin’ a miscue at his age,” Popsy proposed.

“You better go do somepin,” Skeeter snapped. “You go potterin’ aroun’ an’ spile my trade an’ I’ll kick Figger out an’ you’ll hab dis here wuthless nigger to suppote.”

“Not ef I kin he’p it,” Popsy said positively. “I’ll shore git busy an’ c’reck dat mistake. I needs my dollars fer my own use. I’s fixin’ to spend ’em in my ole age, when I gits ole.”