"Black!" Tom cried, squaring himself and looking Andy over: "Aren't you just a little shady?"

"Who? Me?—nasah! I ain't no black nigger!"

"No?"

"Nasah! I'se what dey calls er tantalizin' brown!"

"Oh, I see!"

"Yassah, I'se er chocolate-colored gemman—an' I nebber could stan' dese here coal-black niggers. Miss Minerva's so black she kin spit ink!"

"And she's 'atter' you?"

"Yassah, an' Miss Minerva's a widder 'oman, an' ye know de Scripter says, 'Beware of widders'——"

"Of course!" Tom agreed.

"I'se er gemman, yer know, Mister Tom. I can't insult er lady, an' dat's de particular reason dat I wants ter percipitate mysef wid my true love before dat big, black 'oman gits her hands on me. She's atter me sho, an' ef she gits me in er close place, what I gwine do, sah?"