“Dey batted me over de head wid de fust thing whut come handy. De las’ one broke a puffeckly good settin’-chair on my noodle.”
“Ain’t you never hugged no womens?” Dazzle asked.
“I can’t perzackly call it huggin’,” Tick explained. “Quick as I grab ’em, dey squall an’ fight an’ ack like dey wus ag’in it.”
Dazzle turned to Skeeter with an amazed question:
“Did you ever see de beat?”
Skeeter was evidently stricken dumb before such complete inexperience and such colossal ignorance.
Tick wadded his hat into a tight ball and waited while Dazzle thought out a course of instruction.
“All right, Ticky,” she said, at last. “I’ll set here on dis bench an’ you come a-courtin’ me. Do de very best you knows how, an’ Skeeter kin stan’ off on one side an’ suggest improvements on de lesson.”
Dazzle sat down and waited.
Tick fumbled with his hat, and breathed like a choking horse.