Skeeter’s maniacal laughter subsided to a hysterical giggle, as he watched Tick’s precipitous flight.
“Dar now!” he snickered. “De kisser’s gone an’ pulled his freight to kiss her on some later date!”
Then Skeeter sat down on the bench where Tick had received his first and last lesson in the art of love, and smoked one cigarette after another, sighing frequently and thinking hard. He decided that Tick had lost the opportunity of a lifetime to be kissed by the prettiest woman in the world, one who knew how to do it. Skeeter wished that he had had Tick’s chance.
“Shuckins!” he said in deep disgust. “A nigger like Tick don’t never know whut’s good fer him!”
VII
BUTTON HOOK
Deeply embarrassed by his experience, and sorely perplexed over his difficulties, Tick Hush wandered down toward that portion of the town occupied by the whites, and stopped short in his meditations before a drug-store which carried a stock of cheap jewelry. He held his retrieved five-dollar bill in his sweating palm and looked into the dusty show-window.
“Dat nigger actor gimme one good tip,” he murmured. “I’ll buy my gal a real nice present, and take it to her when I git ready to express my bizzness.”
He entered the drug-store timidly and leaned against a show-case.
“What you want, colored man?” the clerk asked.
“I wants a little gold fitten fer a cullud lady to wear on her,” Tick grinned diffidently.