Suddenly he spoke and the negro jumped.
“What sort of a dump does that other nigger over acrost the tracks run?” he asked.
“Oh, you wouldn’t lak dat place a-tall,” stated the colored man. “Dat nigger natchelly thinks a fly is somethin’ you cooks wid. He ain’t sanitatious, lak I aims to be.”
“Yes,” said the bully, “and whut’s more, he’s a robber—he’s a regular pirate.”
“Is dat so, suh?”
“Well, judge for yourself. Last night I went into that nigger’s joint and ordered just about what I’ve had here to-night—maybe a little more, maybe a little less. When I got through I asked him what the damage was and, do you know, that black scoundrel had the gall to ask me for a dollar and a quarter? Of course I oughter killed him. In fact, I got up intendin’ to kill him. But something sort of stayed my hand. All I done to him was just to cut off both his ears with this here frog-sticker and feed ’em to him. By the way, what do I owe you for this mess of vittles?”
“Boss,” said the darky, “I reckon a dime would be ample.”
§ 78 How to Beat the System
The late “Tiny” Maxwell was a sporting writer in Philadelphia. He was called “Tiny” because he weighed nearly three hundred pounds. He had a ready wit.
Because he was an expert at football and also because back in his college days he was a gridiron star of magnitude, Mr. Maxwell frequently was called upon to referee games along the Eastern Seaboard.