“Just tolerable. Clemmie,” he called, “I seem to smell something burning. There ain’t nothing, be there?”
“We was busy talking, and them irons got too hot.”
“Talking, be you? Don’t ’pear to have agreed with neither of you more than it did with those irons.”
“You didn’t pass a mirror on the way down this morning, or you’d not be crowing so loud, Josiah.”
“No, that’s a fact I didn’t. You see, Eadie busted mine during that cleaning raid, and I can’t afford a new one.”
“You must have hit your funny-bone, or something,” hinted Miss Pipkin as she poured a cup of the reheated coffee.
“Now, don’t get mad, Clemmie. I was just fooling. Mack understands me purty well, and he’ll tell you that I didn’t mean nothing by what I said.”
“Josiah Pott! You’re that disrespectful that I’ve a good mind to scold you.”
“What’s up now, Clemmie?”