“Skeeter, wus dem niggers runnin’ away from me?”
“Naw!” Skeeter declared. “It wus dat hoodoo juice dat sont ’em skootin’ home. My maw shore told de truth ’bout dat juice.”
“Kin I have de rest of de juice, Skeeter?” Coco asked as they strolled slowly toward her cabin.
“Suttinly!” Skeeter said, producing the little jar from his pocket. “But I bet you don’t never use it no more, Coco.”
“I bet I does,” Coco giggled as they walked up the steps of her cabin.
The girl laid her hat and veil on the bed and sat down.
Skeeter broke into a loud laugh.
“Whut you laughin’ at, nigger?” Coco demanded.
“Go, take a peep at yo’se’f in de lookin’-glass. Coco,” Skeeter cackled. “Oh, my goodness gracious Moses——”
He sprang to his feet, caught hold of the mantel with both hands, and hung there, helpless with laughter, his alligator mouth stretched to the limit.