He came out of his reverie slowly, gradually becoming
conscious of a high-pitched conversation carried on downstairs. He had
left his chamber door open and fragments of this conversation came up
the staircase. It was Primmie's voice which he heard most frequently
and whatever words he caught were hers. There was a masculine grumble at
intervals but this was not understandable on the second floor.
"Now I know better.... My savin' soul, how you do talk, Zach Bloomer!...
And I says to her, says I, 'Miss Martha,' I says.... My Lord of
Isrul!..."
These were some of the "Primmieisms" which came up the staircase.
Galusha rose to close his door but before he could accomplish this feat
his own name was called.
"Mr. Bangs!" screamed Primmie. "Mr. Bangs, be you layin' down? You ain't
asleep, be you, Mr. Bangs?"
If he had been as sound asleep as Rip Van Winkle that whoop would have
aroused him. He hastened to assure the whooper that he was awake and
afoot.
"Um-hm," said Primmie, "I'm glad of that. If you'd been layin' down I
wouldn't have woke you up for nothin'. But I want to ask you somethin',
Mr. Bangs. Had you just as soon answer me somethin' if I ask it of you,
had you, Mr. Bangs?"
"Yes, Primmie."
"Just as soon's not, had you?"
"Yes, quite as soon."
"All right. Then I--I... Let me see now, what was it I was goin' to ask?
Zach Bloomer, stop your makin' faces, you put it all out of my head.
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