“That’s what they will; and the mashers will do for the tom-toms when we hold Council,” added Dudley.
“Now don’t be silly—you know there wouldn’t be any drum head left in the tom-tom if you boys beat time with one of those wooden potato-mashers,” said Fred, trying to pry off a slat.
“Where’re you going?” asked Paul of Billy, who had piled an armful high with wooden dishes.
“Give ’em to Mose—he needed some new kitchenware!”
At that, Paul and Dudley each caught up a wooden bowl and a wooden masher and marched after Billy, beating time for his steps.
“Hey, Mose! Here’s your answer to prayer! I heard you, last week, saying that you hoped the good Lord would send you some kitchen dishes mighty quick!” laughed Billy.
“Ah no—’deed no, chile! Mose neber prayed no wicked pray’r lak dat—mebbe dat wreck coul’ be laid t’ de doah ov such a pray’r! And Mose sure ain’t guilty of dat! But, what Ah did say was ‘Ah wisht de dear Lord woul’ take pity on poor Mose an’ sen’ him some dishes mighty quick! Dere’s a heap ov diffrunce,” explained the devout cook.
“Well, forget the prayer that caused the wreck, and come in to see what else we got,” teased Dudley, at last.
Mose was only too pleased to be invited to assist at the prize packages but he looked askance at the debris that covered the floor of the bungalow.
“Why diden’ yo’ all wait f’ mornin’ to unpack dis mussy stuff out on d’ groun’?”