“I favors it, nigger. Less gib Vinegar all de frills!”
Hitch Diamond hastened to contribute his dollar, and Vinegar Atts followed him with two dollars.
“I’s willing’ to pay mo’ dan anybody fer whut I gits fer myse’f,” he announced happily.
Figger Bush walked forward and laid down fifty cents.
“I ain’t no scholard, brudders,” he said apologetically. “I don’t see more’n four bits wuth of good dat I’ll git outen dem D’s.”
One by one the members of the lodge advanced and contributed their bit to this honorary degree to be bestowed upon their chaplain. But silver dollars were scarce in the crowd, and fifty-cent pieces were soon exhausted and two-bit contributions were scanty and then dimes and nickels made up the rest of the pile.
“Ef eve’ybody is done his do, de inner guard will please count de remains,” Hitch announced.
Figger Bush advanced and separated the silver in neat little piles. A minute later he announced the result:
“Twenty-five dollars!”
The lodge received this statement in gloomy silence. Green Trapps sat down, took the college diploma out of his pocket and unrolled it. The sight of that precious document almost brought the tears to Vinegar’s eyes.