I sank instantly and hailed the old lady.
“Hi, there! Mammy, have you a spare--er--er pair--I mean an apron or two you could lend?”
“Lawd sakes! How yo’ scart me!” cried the old negress. “Where yo’ is, honey?” and she looked about her.
“We’re over here in the grass. Lost our clothes while swimming. Don’t come over, but just fetch out a bit of dunnage and run away, that’s a good ole gal,” I said.
“Run away! Huh! Who is you toe tell me to run away. I’se Mr. Curtis’ nigger, an’ I doan’ run fo’ no one, I jest tell yo’ dat,” and she advanced toward us.
“Ah, trot along,” growled Tim. “Get us some clothes, or we’ll take some. We haven’t time to fool with any blamed old nigger.”
She advanced close to us, and I noticed she held a small black baby in her arms. Tim edged behind me, and I tried to shove him in front.
“Land sakes alive!” she cried. “He, he, he, yah, yah! Well, I nebber. Yo’ is sho’ nuff nakid. Jest as nakid as this little babe under his clothes. Yah, yah, he is sho’ just as nakid as you is under his clothes. Well, I nebber--”
But we waited no longer. The situation was too humiliating, and we sprang to our feet and dashed down the path into the scrub.
“What the deuce will we do?” I asked, when we were out of sight. “If she wasn’t a woman, I’d rip her clothes off pretty quick and make shift of her skirt.”