“It’s a plum’ pity dat Vakey Vapp don’t git no letter,” he murmured. “I’s gwine down an’ mail dis letter to her as soon as Little Bit gits back. Bofe dem womans cain’t want Tick, an’ ’twon’t do no harm. Mebbe it’ll do a large amount of great good.”
III
SAFETY FIRST
On his way to keep his engagement with Limit Lark under the tree behind the Shoofly church, Tick Hush had to pass the Hen-Scratch saloon. When he reached the door he walked in.
“I helt up a minute fer a few last advices, Skeeter,” he said nervously as he fumbled with his hat and panted like a tired dog.
“Whut ails you now?” Skeeter demanded.
“Ef dat woman meets me under dat tree, whut muss I say to her?” Tick inquired.
“Ax her did she git yo’ letter,” Skeeter suggested.
“She won’t be dar ef she don’t git de letter,” Tick protested.
“Suttinly,” Skeeter agreed, “but dat will make talk an’ it’s a good way to begin.”
“Whut muss I say atter dat?” Tick asked helplessly.