“I ever did have a delicate stomach. I don’ hardly have no appetite at all lately.”
Sherry gave a loud guffaw and April frowned in sudden ill-temper. “Wha’ dat tickle you so turrible, now, Sherry?”
April’s irritation showed in the jerky shifting of his hands and feet, and Big Sue’s eyes stretched open and rolled toward Sherry, who answered sourly:
“Oh, I ain’ so awful tickled. No. I just had to laugh when I thought on how it takes a thief to catch a thief. Night-walkers meets night-walkers, enty?”
“I do’in’ un’erstan’ wha’ dat you’s a-drivin’ at.” April stroked his mustache and eyed Sherry coldly.
“Me neither,” Big Sue chimed. “Whyn’ you talk plain talk, Sherry? It’s mighty no-manners to stand up an’ laugh a horse laugh in somebody’s face.”
“Do ex-cuse me, Cun Big Sue. Ev’y now an’ den, I forget an’ speak out o’ turn. I was just talkin’ fool talk. I ain’ laughin’ at nobody. Come on, Breeze. Le’s divide de ’possums. You take four, I take five. We sho’ had good luck to-night. Good night, ev’ybody!”
Sherry flung himself out of the door and April sat silent, vexed, upset; but his anger lasted only a short time. When he spoke, his tone was pleasant enough. He ought not to have joked with Sherry. The boy was too easy to get plagued. Zeda had spoiled him all his life, instead of breaking him of his sassy ways. Such a pity to ruin a nice boy. April got to his feet and stood stiffly erect.
Big Sue’s gimlet eyes watched his face, then leaning to knock her pipe on the hearth she said sadly: “Lawd, I wish dem ’possums was somet’ing fit to eat. A wild turkey or somet’ing. If dey was a wild turkey, I could stuff dem wid oysters an’ roast dem. Jedus, wouldn’ dey taste good! Whyn’ you kill a turkey, April? Looks like nobody else can shoot one but you? Ain’ you got a blind baited?”
She smiled up at him so sweetly, April smiled back.