Andy dodged in time to save his nose and his offering went tumbling down the stairs. He shook his head threateningly when he caught his breath:
"Look a here, m'am, is dat de way yer gwine spessify my welcome?"
"Why, no, I was only thanking you for the compliment!" she answered with a sneer. "How dare you insult me?"
"Insult you, is I?" Andy chuckled. "Huh, if dat's de way ye talk I'm gwine ter say sumfin quick——"
"You can't be too quick!"
Andy held her eye a moment and pointed his index finger in her face:
"Yassam! As de ole sayin' is—I'm gwine take my tex' from dat potion er de Scripter whar de 'Postle Paul pint his 'pistle at de Fenians!—I'se er comin' straight ter de pint."
"Well, come to it, you flat-nosed baboon!" she cried in rage. "What makes your nose so flat, anyhow?"
Andy grinned at her tantalizingly, and spoke with a note of deliberate insult:
"I don't know, m'am, but I spec hit wuz made dat way ter keep hit outen odder folks' business!"