“Did you find ’em?” asked Billy.
“Yep; I went right straight where I left ’em yeste’day. I had ’em trying to cut a piece of wire. I stole off and went down to Sam Lamb’s house this morning and tooken breakfast with him and his old woman, Sukey,” he boasted.
“I knows Sam Lamb,” said Billy, “I rode up on the bus with him.”
“He’s my partner,” remarked Jimmy.
“He’s mine, too,” said Billy quickly.
“No, he ain’t neither; you all time talking ’bout you going to have Sam Lamb for a partner. You want everything I got. You want Miss Cecilia and you want Sam Lamb. Well, you just ain’t a-going to have ’em. You got to get somebody else for your partner and sweetheart.”
“Well, you jest wait an’ see,” said Billy. “I got Major Minerva.”
“Shucks, they ain’t no Major name’ that away,” and Jimmy changed the subject. “Sam Lamb’s sow’s got seven little pigs. He lemme see ’em suck,” said Sam Lamb’s partner proudly. “He’s got a cow, too; she’s got the worrisomest horns ever was. I believe she’s a steer anyway.”
“Shucks,” said the country boy, contemptuously, “You do’ know a steer when you see one; you can’t milk no steer.”
Turning on the hose
“Look! Ain’t that a snake?” shrieked Billy, pointing to what looked to him like a big snake coiled in the yard.
“Snake, nothing!” sneered his companion, “that’s a hose. You all time got to call a hose a snake. Come on, let’s sprinkle,” and Jimmy sprang out of the swing, jerked up the hose, and dragged it to the hydrant. “My mama don’t never ’low me to sprinkle with her hose, but Miss Minerva she’s so good I don’ reckon she’ll care,” he cried mendaciously.
Billy followed, watched his companion screw the hose to the faucet, and turn the water on. There was a hissing, gurgling sound and a stream of water shot out, much to the rapture of the astonished Billy.
“Won’t Aunt Minerva care?” he asked, anxiously. “Is she a real ’ligious ’oman?”
“She is the Christianest woman they is,” announced the other child. “Come on, we’ll sprinkle the street—and I don’t want nobody to get in our way neither.”
“I wish Wilkes Booth Lincoln could see us,” said Miss Minerva’s nephew.
A big, fat negress, with a bundle of clothes tied in a red table cloth on her head, came waddling down the sidewalk.
Billy looked at Jimmy and giggled, Jimmy looked at Billy and giggled; then, the latter took careful aim and a stream of water hit the old woman squarely in the face.
“Who dat? What’s yo’ doin’?” she yelled, as she backed off. “‘I’s a-gwine to tell yo’ pappy, Jimmy Garner,” as she recognized one of the culprits. “Pint dat ar ho’e ’way f’om me, ‘fo’ I make yo’ ma spank yuh slabsided. I got to git home an’ wash. Drap it, I tell yuh!”