More E. K. Means / Is This a Title? It Is Not. It Is the Name of a Writer of Negro Stories, Who Has Made Himself So Completely the Writer of Negro Stories That This Second Book, Like the First, Needs No Title

by E. K. Means

Pap Curtain got the giggles.

Sugar Sibley pretended not to notice when Skeeter Butts arose and slunk away.

The racing was over for the day, and Sugar Sibley rode back to Tickfall in Pap Curtain’s hired buggy.

“Pa Curtain is done played a buzzo on me, an’ I wants revengeance,” Skeeter Butts soliloquized bitterly, as he sat behind the bar of the Hen-Scratch saloon.

The swinging doors were thrust open, and Hitch Diamond, Mustard Prophet, Prince Total, and Figger Bush entered the room.

“We wants our money back, Skeeter,” they announced in a chorus.

“Yo’ credick is good fer ten dollars per each, niggers,” Butts said with a sickly grin. “I bet on Doodle-Bug an’ Doodle didn’t do.”

There was a whoop from the four negroes, then each handed Skeeter certain derogatory remarks calculated to reduce his self-esteem to the minimum.

“Pap Curtain tipped me off on Doodle,” Skeeter said defensively. “I don’t know nothin’ ’bout pickin’ em.”

There was a moment of surprised silence; then Hitch asked: