Minerva seated herself, complacently murmuring:
"Yassah, dat's so, Brer Andy."
He leaned over the table and looked at her a moment solemnly:
"I gotter 'fess ter you now, Miss Minerva, dat I'se always bin a bad nigger—what dey calls er pizen bad nigger—I'se er wife beater!"
Minerva's eyes walled in amazement:
"No?"
"Yassam," he went on seriously. "When I wuz married afore I got de habit er beatin' my wife!"
"Beat her?"
Andy shook his head dolefully:
"Yassam. Hit's des lak I tell ye. I hates ter 'fess hit ter you, m'am, but I formed de habit, same ez drinkin' licker—I beat her! I des couldn't keep my hands offen her. I beat her scandalous! I pay no tenshun to her hollerin!—huh!—de louder she holler, 'pears lak de harder I beat her!"