“Pretty enthoosiastic about themselves, though, ain’t theh?”
“Why, I don’t know. It’s a nice country there, Jimmy.”
“There was one on Number Three sure thought so. Hadn’t scarcely come to a stop when off he jumps and waves his fins and gives three cheers for it.”
“For what?”
“Ohio. I’m tellin’ you. He ramps across the track yippin’ ‘Ohio! Ohio! Ohio!’ whoopity-yoop. He come right at me and I says, ‘Watch yehself, Buddy. You’ll git left.’”
“What did he say to that?” asked Banneker indulgently.
“Never looked at me no more than a doodle-bug. Just yelled ‘Ohio!’ again. So I come back at him with ‘Missourah.’ He grabs me by the shoulder and points to your shack. ‘Who owns that little shed?’ says he, very excited. ‘My friend, Mr. Banneker,’ says I, polite as always to strangers. ‘But I own that shoulder you’re leanin’ on, and I’m about to take it away with me when I go,’ I says. He leaned off and says, ‘Where did that young lady come from that was standin’ in the doorway a minute ago?’ ‘Young lady,’ Ban. Do you get that? So I says, ‘You’re lucky, Bud. When I get ’em, it’s usually snakes and bugs and such-like rep-tyles. Besides,’ I says, ‘your train is about to forgit that you got off it,’ I says. With that he gives another screech that don’t even mean as much as Ohio and tails onto the back platform just in time.”
Said Ban, after frowning consideration:
“You didn’t see any lady around the shack, did you, Jimmy?”
“Not on your life,” replied the little man indignantly. “I ain’t had anything like that since I took the mail-teamin’ contract.”