“A sun-worshipper.”
“Well,” said the driver, “ ’e must be ’ere on a blinkin’ vacation.”
§ 200 The Detour in the Bridal Path
A young couple, on their honeymoon, spent two days in a small Southern city. When they got off the train an old negro man, who served as porter, runner, chief bell-boy and general factotum for the hotel greeted them at the depot. He took charge of their hand-baggage and led the way for them to an ancient vehicle.
As he drove them along the street the young husband took him into their confidence:
“Now, look here, Uncle,” he said, “we don’t want anybody here to know that we’ve just been married. Probably some of the other guests will speak to you about us and we count on you to throw them off the track.”
“Boss,” said the old man, “don’t you an’ the young lady worry. Jest trust me. ’Taint nobody goin’ fin’ out by axin’ me questions.”
But when the pair came down from their room that evening for supper, they found themselves a target for the interested stares of everyone else in the dining room. All eyes were turned in their direction. At the conclusion of a somewhat hurried and decidedly embarrassed meal, the young man hunted up the old negro.
“Say,” he demanded, “I thought you promised not to give us away, and yet everybody around this hotel is looking at us and grinning.”
“Boss,” said the old negro fervently, “ef dey’s learned the truff, dey didn’t none of ’em learn it frum me—naw, suh!”