“An’ you call yo’self a Chrishtun, an’ practice devilment like dat?” Felo asked, reprovingly. “Is Plunkum any child o’ Gawd?” she asked, indignantly. “De Bible say: overcome yo’ enemy; don’t it?... Plunkum ain’ nothin’ but gutter water!”
The running laughter of the women at this juncture broke into a merry peal. Uncle Foteen awakened from a pleasant doze and looked around bewildered, just as the stentorian sound of a man’s voice was heard outside, exclaiming:
“Great-day-in-de-mawnin’! Who is you? Makin’ all dis racket up in hyuh so soon, an’ night ain’ begin to fall good yet.”
Coming into the room, he announced himself:
“Good evenin’ to evvbody; an’ peace to de hyuhafter.”
Pointing to a chair near Tom, Susan said to him:
“Take a chair, an’ set down, Nat; an’ take dat hat off yo’ head w’en you come befo’ comp’ny.”
Nat rolled his large, shining eyes at her in playful annoyance, and walked over to the chair and sat down; throwing his hat across the floor with a sweeping gesture.
