“De fust time I ever saw anybody go up in de air wus at a county fair. Dar wus a balloon tied on de end of a rope, an’ a white man wus in charge, and he let eve’ybody whut had a dollar go up in de air as fur as de rope went.”
“How many foots could you go up?” Vinegar inquired.
“One thousand foots,” Red Cutt informed him. “Dat is as fur as de rope stretched. Of co’se if de rope broke, I imagines a nigger might hab went a heap farther, but dey wouldn’t charged him nothin’ fer dat extry trip.”
“An’ did you go up in it?” Hitch Diamond asked.
“Naw, I didn’t hab no dollar; but I made up my mind right dar dat some day I wus gwine up.”
Skeeter Butts joined the company at this point, sat down and lighted a cigarette, leaned back and asked with great nonchalance:
“How long has you been tryin’ to fly, Brudder Red Cutt?”
“I been at it for the last ’leven or twelve months. Is you had any expe’unce flyin’?”
“Naw, suh, I ain’t had much to speak about,” Skeeter Butts replied. “Of co’se, I took a few little flies when I wus in de army, but I didn’t run de machine myself, an’ I don’t know very much about it.”
“I’m glad to hear you say dat, Skeeter,” Red Cutt responded. “You see, my bizzness jes’ now is travelin’ through de country teachin’ cullud folks how to fly dese machines. De gover’ment of the Nunited States is makin’ about a million of dese airships eve’y week. As soon as de war is over dey won’t have no need for dem airships in de Europe war, an’ dey will have about forty millions dat dey will want to sell cheap.”