“Revun Atts,” Skeeter said in a weak, frightened voice, “I feels powerful bad, an’ I was thinkin’ dat I’d like to hear a few advices of de Bible preached an’ a little religium singin’.”
“I cain’t he’p you now, Brudder,” Vinegar panted. “Wait till I git my breath back. How kin I bawl out wid de message when I’s all wind-broke like dis?”
Skeeter waited a few minutes, then turned to his dreadful dream book and began to read, mumbling to himself.
Suddenly Skeeter raised his head with a jerk and gazed up at the moon. He sprang to his feet and began to count on his fingers. The others watched him with intense curiosity. Finally he howled:
“He’p me, niggers; he’p me quick! Whut day of de mont’ is dis?”
“Dis is de twenty-six’!” Vinegar panted. “De day of de full moon.”
“When did de new moon come in?” Skeeter asked eagerly.
“De new moon wus de tenth!” Pap Curtain informed him.
“Oh, Lawdy!” Skeeter howled, his voice breaking into a sob.
He squatted down and held the book close to the fire, reading aloud to himself in a low tone.