’Twasn’t raining on the inside; the old man told him curtly. He didn’t have to stay, if he wanted to go back home; the old man went on. He got along without help before; he could get along without it again. Little bit of rain didn’t make him afraid to work for an honest living. The house had a roof over it. And there was a good fire, in the bargain.
“Li’l bit o’ rain!” Gussie exclaimed; surprised at his disagreeable manner of talking. “Man, you ain’ seen de water fallin’ out-do’as, if you wan’ call dat a li’l bit o’ rain.... Look how I’m soaked clean thoo to de skin, if you ain’ b’lieve w’at I’m tellin’ you.”
“Well, w’at you want me to do?” The old man asked indifferently, with a flat harsh drawl.
“Gimme li’l somh’n to drink,” Gussie told him frankly. “Li’l somh’n to warm me up befo’ I start ’way from hyuh. ’Cause I ain’ goin’ stay wid you an’ do no work tonight.... I done already seen whah you too cross an’ crabby for me to stay hyuh an’ play ’roun’ dis sausage pot. Wet as I done got comin’ ’way down hyuh in de woods for nothin’.... An’ inny-way, I got to go yonder to Carmelite raffle an’ see’f I can’ win’ one dem quilts for Aun’ Fisky.... An’ got to go yonder to Tempe wake, too.... So gimme a drink o’ somh’n-nother, Mr. Hooblitz, so I kin leave hyuh w’en it slack-up rainin’ a li’l bit out-do’as.”
The old man took a flask from his pocket, and holding it out to Gussie, said roughly:
“Here. Take a drink. An’ I hope it lands you in Hell before morning.... An’ hurry on back to your damn niggers; if that’s what you want to do. I reckon I kin git along good enough by myself.”
Gussie looked at the flask; then contemplated the old man’s face for a second before answering.
“But no, Mr. Hooblitz. You sho is cross tonight.... W’as de matter? You begrudge me a li’l bit o’ licker to keep me from ketchin’ col’, wet as I’m is? An’ come hyuh to help you, too?... Hyuh, take yo’ licker back,” he went on, holding out the flask to the old man. “I ain’ got to drink it, if da’s de way you wan’ talk. Frien’ly as me an’ you bin for so long.”
Old Hooblitz took the flask, and after helping himself to a long swig, he handed it back to Gussie, saying:
“Don’t be so damn touchy about your niggers. Take your drink, an’ go on back to ’um. You might miss the excitement if you stay here too long.”