Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 147: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A COURSE IN ETIQUETTE stretching around where she could see. “He’s missin’, Dat white folks ain’t dar a-tall!”’ Astonished at this, Pink stopped the mule and went around to investigate. “Dat white man done fell or jumped off,” he said in perplexity. “He jumped off,’ Ledora told him. “You said he wore citified clothes, whut wuz left on him. He’s ridin’ dat truck todes de river whar he kin ketch de boat.” “Us would ’a’ took him to Tickfall whar he could kotch de train,” Pink said in a disgusted tone. ‘“‘ Leastwise dar warn’t no call fer him to do us dat way—snuck off an’ never axed us good-by.” “He warn’t raised polite,’ Ledora chuckled, reaching a fat hand under the seat for the ‘‘ Book of Etiquette.” ‘“ Dis am whut de book say, listen: ‘ Forms of Farewell. Good-by an’ Good-night are de only two forms to be used in leavin’. A-u re-vo-ir is French an’ should be used only in France ’—” ‘“ Wharabouts is Framce?” Pink wanted to know. Echo answered. Evidently nobody knew. f “ Good-night an’ good-by,”’ Ledora re- peated mockingly. ‘“ Naw, suh, I’m tellin’ you, Pinkie, dat white man warn’t fotch up polite.” “‘ He acted like all de white mens does,” Pink remarked grouchily. “Dey don’t never thank a nigger fer nothin’.”’ ‘“Good-night an’ good-by!” bawled at the top of her voice. ‘““ Night! By!” From the woods, the echo answered. ‘““ Even dem woods is got mo’ manners dan dat white man,” Ledora chuckled. “Dat’s all right,” Pink said finally. “Us done all we could fer him. I’s kinder glad he lightened de load by leavin’ us. Dis ole mule is got a hard enough pull when he hauls a ole, fat, pesticatin’ nigger woman like you is.” “Don’t git to r’arin’? up at me an’ throwin’ slams,” Ledora grinned. “ ’Tain’t polite!” “Dat white man done enough fer us,” Pink asserted. “‘ He done rent us a house _cheap, an’ ef he wanted to go on about his own bizzness, us needn’t feel so bad.” Ledora 297 €: Dat’s so,” Ledora agreed. ‘sé Le’s beat up dis ole mule an’ git to dat house quick.” V.. “ WHAR you folks gwine live at?” was Skeeter’s first question when the mule and the dilapidated conveyance paused at his door. ‘“A white gemman rented us a empty cabin close to de Shoofly chu’ch somewhar,”’ Pink answered. “ He got lost in de woods an’ we found him an’ got him straight an’ he let us hab de cabin cheap for eighteen dollars.” “ Dat wuz too high,” Skeeter told them. “ Excusin’ dat, I don’t know no empty cabin up dat way. Whut wuz de white man’s name?” ‘“ He never told us no name an’ us never named him,” Ledora responded, her black hands resting helplessly upon her dusty lap. ““Whut sorter lookin’ man wuz he?” Skeeter asked next. The negro has a photographic eye. He sometimes lacks descriptive language, but give him time, and he can tell you the min- utest details of a person’s appearance, man- ner and dress. He also has the gift of mimicry and can imitate the sound of a human voice to perfection. Many a white woman has had a caller in her absence who did not leave a card, and yet she knew who the friend was from the description of her colored maid, and her imitation of .the caller’s voice and manner. With the utmost particularity, Pink and Ledora described the appearance of the white man they had encountered in the woods. He was a dark white man with red under the skin, a “‘ red bone,” or one with Indian blood. His eyes were busy “ read- ing sign ” and he seemed like he was listen- ing for something all the time. He had no whiskers on his face to speak of-—just hadn’t shaved for some days, and he had a scar on his jaw—looked like where a bullet had gone in because one back tooth was missing at that place. His eyes were black and his hair was black and he was chunky- built and square-like and talked quick and spoke out of one side of his mouth,— there was a great deal of this. Descriptive EOPMICLOOOKS (E@)