“We mought write a letter to Button——”
“Naw!” Tick exploded. “Jedge Lanark say dat govermint wus agin love letters—dey gits you in trouble wid de cotehouse. Dem two niggers drapped dem letters on de groun’ las’ night, an’ I foun’ ’em close to de Shoofly chu’ch dis mawnin’. I got ’em in de inside coat-pocket right now, next to my heart.”
“Gib ’em to me—” Skeeter said eagerly.
“Naw, suh. I’ll tote ’em in my own coat-pocket,” Tick snarled. “I let you keep one yistiddy an’ it got away from you! Go on wid dem Button advices!”
“You mought send Button a box of candy, den wait a day or two an’ go out dar an’ talk sweet——”
“’Twon’t do, Skeeter. Candy costs money; excusin’ dat, I got to hurry along wid dis mattermony—I needs somepin hasty.”
“Run in dar some night an’ kidnap her up!” Skeeter suggested.
“Say, Skeeter,” Tick asked with a wide grin, “did you ever hear a skeart nigger woman holler?”
“Yes, indeedy,” the little barkeeper snickered. “I heerd two las’ night. Steamboat whistles am jes’ little wheezes when a nigger woman begins to squall.”
“No nigger-stealin’ fer me,” Tick announced with finality.