“You’ll get tired of it an’ run away,” she continued.
“Mebbe,” he said, with a yawn, “but look-y-there, missie,” and he drew a crackling greenback from his pocket and shook it in her face. “Mass’ Tite, he call dat earnest money. Chile alive, Brick had one pound chocolate drops yesterday, two pounds caramel creams to-day, an’ he’s a-goin’ to have a bag of jaw-breakers to-morrow, if he’s a spared nig. Ice cream we gets at table.”
“Ketch me givin’ my servants ice cream when I have a house,” she said, disdainfully.
“You’re goin’ to make a rattlin’ fine lady,” said Brick, with a comical glance. “Don’t you come fo’ me to work under yeh.”
“I wouldn’t have you,” she said; then, catching sight of a new collar on Bylow, she asked, suddenly, “Who give him that?”
“Mass’ Tite, missie. When he begged fo’ to keep me, Roblee, de ole man coachman, he was mad, an’ I guess de Jedge was half mad. But Mass’ Tite, he begged. ‘Well,’ says de Jedge, ‘de dog mus’ go.’ ‘Grandfathah,’ says Mass’ Tite, ‘I’m a-goin’ fo’ to make a gen’l’man of dat dere dog.’ Says de Jedge, ‘Ye can’t do it.’ Says Mass’ Tite, ‘Gimme a chance.’ So he go downtown, he buy dat fine plated collah, he talk to de dog, he brush him, he show him folks wid good cloes on; he says, ‘Don’ go fo’ to be no tramp dog no longer;’ an’, ’pon my honnah, dat dog, between de collah, an’ de talkin’, an’ de showin’, an’ de brushin’, and de good grub, an’ de warm room—why, he’s goin’ fo’ to be a ruspectable dog.”
Airy said nothing, but she looked interested, and Brick went on with his vivacious play of hands, mouth, eyes, teeth, and tongue.
“An’ dat ole coachman, he’s a-comin’ roun’ to like him. Jes’ wait till I tells yeh. Befo’ he come, ole Roblee he miss his oats. Some one steal ’em. He don’t know how. Says he, ‘De oat bin aint nevvah open, only when I takes out oats fo’ de hosses an’ de cow, an’ when I leaves it fo’ de man who bring de oats to put ’em in. He’s as honest as I be.’ Yisterday, says he to Bylow, ‘Dog, look at dat oat bin. I’m a-goin’ to leave it open. Go in dat dark corner an’ watch. Ef you’s any good as watchdog you’ll ketch de thief.’”
Airy held out a finger to Bylow, who licked it slightly, and Brick continued:
“I give Bylow a sign, an’ he went an’ lay down—didn’t run after me no moah. Late in de afternoon, when Roblee was a-drivin’ de Jedge, an’ I was in de house smellin’ roun’ to see if I could get some cookies what de girls was a-bakin’, I heard a hullabaloo in de stable. I runned, an’ Bylow he was a-rippin’ at de pants of de good man what brung de oats.”