“Set still den, lemme see whar ’bouts I wus at—”
“The Hopper Grasses were working in the field,” Mary Van prompted.
“Dat’s de trufe, dat’s jes’ whar dem po’ things wus at. Lawdee, how dem varmints jes’ nachelly wurk derse’fs mouty nigh ter death. Bimeby, de corn ’gun ter tos’l an’ git ripe, an’ Mist’r Rattlesnake see de harves’ ain’ fur off, an’ he know he bleeg’d ter ’vide dat corn wid dem Hop’r Grasses. He lay out on de creek bank an’ study how he gwine ter cheat ’em. One day de Hop’r Grasses wus er settin’ down in de shade er de corn jes’ waitin’ fur Mist’r Rattlesnake ter give de wurd ter go ter cuttin’, whin Mist’r Rattlesnake crope up ter de back er de fiel’ an’ clim’ on top er de fence an’ give er crack er his tail so loud dat de po’ Hop’r Grasses scat’r all ov’r de country ev’y which er way. Dey wus so skeer’d, hit take ’em er long time fo’ dey darsen’t ter come back ter see whut ’twus skeer’d ’em. By dat time, Mist’r Rattlesnake had done trench hisse’f on dis side de law. Yas, suh, he tak’n his seat ’pon top er dat gate, an’ ’fuse ter let er one on ’em come in de fiel’. He tell ’em dey done flew’d off an’ lef’ him ’fo’ harves’ time, an’ dee done broke der corntrack, an’ no law ain’ gwine hole him ter his’n, an’ dey mout jes’ es well ter g’long off an’ git ernuth’r job.”
“Didn’t the Hopper Grasses fight him?” Willis’ fists closed at the thought.
“Fight? Whut chanct wud dey had ’ginst dat low down Rattlesnake?” lifting Mary Van from her apron and trying to pull herself up by the bushes. “Dey done whut ev’ybody does dat runs up ’ginst snake law—dey got swindl’d.”
“What’s snake law?” he tried to assist her.
“Snake law is sin law, doan you nuv’r fergit dat,” she smoothed her apron out, and adjusted the little boy’s blouse, “an’ whin you gits ter be er big man like yo’ pa, jes’ recoleck whut yo’ Mammy tole yer, dat law whut ain’t right right, is snake law, an’ dem whut foll’rs ’long b’hime hit has got ter go in er crook’d track. ’Memb’r dat long es you live, Mammy’s man.”
Willis again begged to show Mary Van the green snakes, when Phyllis exclaimed, “Sakes er live, look at de peaches dat nigg’r Zeek is got.”