“Fo’ goodness’ sake gib dat sea-porcupine to Ibum, Chile,” Mrs. Mouth commanded, as a perspiring niggerling in livery presented himself.
“Ibum, his arms are full already.”
“Just come along all to de Villa now! It dat mignon an’ all so nice. An’ after de collation,” Mrs. Mouth (shocked on the servant’s account at her son’s nude neck) raised her voice: “we go to de habadasher in Palmbranch Avenue, an’ I buy you an Eton colleh!”
IX
“Prancing Nigger, I t’ink it bery strange, dat Madame Ruiz, she nebba call.”
“Sh’o.”
“In August-Town, S’ciety less stuck-up dan heah!”
Ensconced in rocking-chairs, in the shade of the ample porch of the Villa Vista Hermosa, Mr. and Mrs. Mouth had been holding a desultory tête-à-tête.