His feet, though, gave him some trouble. They were always getting out of shape. Being made of raisins, an ordinary step was likely to make them swing round and look as though they would prefer to take him the other way.
But Rastus smiled on, thinking, no doubt, that this apparent deformity would prove a great convenience when it came to dancing a “backstep.”
RASTUS PRUNE
Dinah Prune
DINAH, the mother of Rastus, was just a plain sensible colored woman, wearing a dark gown, and a bandana head dress.
Like most colored women of her age, she always wore a neat kerchief folded across her breast, and a large apron to protect her gown.
Though she was no beauty, she was good. All who knew her liked her, and the same might be said of her son.