“You’ll get two of your own if you ain’t careful,” retorted the girl, not displeased.
“Shouldn’t mind being punched by you,” said Bat Miller. “Let me keep these others from scrouging you.”
“Bat,” cried a voice behind him.
“Now begin agin.”
“Leave off talkin’ to that nigger gel,” commanded young Mrs. Miller.
“Who are you callin’ a nigger gel,” inquired the dark young woman across the heads of the surging crowd, “carrots?”
“You,” replied Mrs. Miller frankly, “Miss Tar Brush.”
“Don’t answer her,” begged Mr. Bat Miller to his new acquaintance. “She’s so jealous she can’t see straight.”
“I pity you,” said the dark young woman.
“So do I,” said Mr. Miller softly. “Lemme get your ticket for you.”