"My opinion may not be worth much, Mr. Sanders," said Sarah Clopton, "but I think it would be a shame to take that child so far away from home. I don't believe his mother will allow him to go."
"That is a matter that was jest fixin' for to worry me," remarked Mr. Sanders. "I could feel it kinder fermentin' in my mind, like molasses turnin' to vinegar, an' now that you've fetched it to the top, Sarah, we'll settle it before we go any furder. Come, Cephas; we'll go an' see your mammy, an' see ef we can't coax her into lettin' you go. You'll have to do your best, my son; I'll coax, an' you must wheedle."
As they went out, Cephas was laughing at Mr. Sanders's remark about wheedling. The youngster was an expert in that business. He was his mother's only child, and he had learned at a very early age just how to manage her.
"What troubles me, Cephas," said Mr. Sanders, "is how you can git a message to Gabriel wi'out lettin' the cat out'n the bag. He'll be surrounder'd in sech a way that you can't git a word wi' 'im wi'out tellin' the whole caboodle."
At that moment, Mr. Sanders heard a small voice cry out something like this: "Phazasee! Phazasee! arawa ooya ingagog?"
To which jabbering Cephas made prompt reply: "Iya ingagog ota annysavvy ota eesa gibbleable!"
"Ooya ibfa! Ooya ibfa!" jeered the small voice.
Mr. Sanders looked at Cephas in astonishment. "What kinder lingo is that?" he asked.
"It's the way we school-children talk when we don't want anybody to know what we are saying. Johnny asked me where I was going, and I told him I was going to Savannah to see Gabriel."
"Did he know what you said?"