"All right," I said, promptly, "save it if you want to. I've got no use for it."
Perhaps he makes sofa cushions for the trade.
"I hear your name was proposed as a member of the Bon Ton Colored Artists' Club. Did you get in?" I asked him later on.
"Not dat time, boss. You see, dey white-balled me," he said.
Adolphus has a streak of humor in him.
He is particularly sensitive to the comic-paper jokes connected with a darky's love for chickens and watermelons.
As the years roll on those chestnuts never seem to die.
The barber grew so touchy that he hated the sight of fowls, and even refused to eat eggs.