"Tell her hit's for me. That'll be the truth."
"I better not. I know what! I'll get Mama to stir up sugar and chocolate. It's just like snuff."
"Is it good?"
"Yeah. Gooder'n candy!"
Mama wasn't in the kitchen; neither was Doanie. So I got the chocolate box and the sugar bowl by myself. I grabbed a spoon too and ran outside before I filled my mouth.
"This sho' is sweet!" Shoogie mumbled after she had packed three spoonfuls of the mixture down between her lower lip and her front teeth. Then she handed the bowl and spoon back to me.
"My mama don't dip snuff. She's a nice lady. She says nice ladies don't dip—just old grandma women."
Huldie walked up while I still had the spoon in my hand. She was puffing, wiping sweat off her forehead, and talking to herself.
"Mercy, this is one more hot day!"
The basket Huldie balanced on her head was heaped up with cabbages. If she was going to make me and Shoogie churn them all down, we'd never get to bake Preaching Sunday mud pies!