“No, I’m not mad, little pardner. I reckon I’ve got to stand for what folks say. It’s all right. Just don’t believe everythin’ yuh hear, ’cause it ain’t all true. When the devil paints some of us, he kinda leaves the colours to folks’ imagination, and some of ’em pick strong colours.”
“Did the devil paint you?”
“Yeah, I reckon he did, Larry.”
“You don’t look it.”
“That’s fine. It shows that you are my friend, Larry.”
“Don’t friends see those colours?”
“They wouldn’t be friends if they did, Larry.”
“Uh-huh. Well,” Larry sighed, “I suppose I better go home. Minnie will have dinner ready, and she’ll be callin’ me.”
“All right, pardner; I’ll see yuh later.”
They shook hands, and Larry went up the street, looking back at his father.