“Safe, I shed say so! Hit’s mighty onsafe fer me not ter foller it, I kin tell ye. She’d thump my old gourd fer me in ermazin’ style ef I didn’t.”
“Thump my old gourd,” repeated Miss Crabb, making a note. “Go on, Mr. Tolliver, please.”
“S’pose I mought as well, seein’ ’at it has ter be said.” He paused, faltered, and then proceeded: “Well, beggin’ yer parding, Miss Crabb, but ever sence ye wer’ down ther’ ter we all’s cabin, hit’s been a worryin’ my mammy and me, an’ we hev’ talked it all over an’ over.”
“Yes,” sighed Miss Crabb.
“Hit’s not the cost of them beads, Miss Crabb, they air not wo’th much, but they was guv ter mammy by her aunt Mandy Ann Bobus, an’ she feel like she jest can’t give ’em up.”
Miss Crabb looked puzzled.
“Ef ye’ll jest erblige me an’ hand them beads over ter me, I’ll never say er wo’d ter nobody ner nothin.”
“Mr. Tolliver, what in the world do you mean?” cried Miss Crabb, rising and standing before him with a face that flamed with sudden anger.
“Ye mought er tuck ’em kinder accidentally, ye know,” he suggested in a conciliatory tone, rising also.
“Mr. Tolliver!” she almost screamed.