"I like to know why I can't," demanded Eugenia. "I put on a pair of your
old ones and they fit me just as well as they do you--only Aunt Chris
made me get out of them."

"Sakes er live!" exclaimed Aunt Verbeny, awaking from her doze.

Uncle Ish stared dreamily into the flames. "Ole Miss wuz in her grave,
she wuz," he muttered, while Delphy looked at him and shook her head
mysteriously.

Then, as Nicholas entered, they made a place for him upon the
hearthstones, treating him with the forbearing tolerance with which the
well-born negro regards the low-born white man.

"Pa wants you all to help him in peanut-picking to-morrow," said
Nicholas, addressing the group indiscriminately. "He's late at it this
year, but he's been laid up with rheumatism."

"Dar ain' nuttin' ez goes on two foot er fo' ez won' len' er han' at a
pickin'," remarked Uncle Ish as the boy sat down. "Dar ain' nuttin' in
de shape, er man er crow ez won't he'p demse'ves w'en dey's lyin' roun'
loose, nuther."

"Dar's gwine ter be er killin' fros' fo' mawnin'," said Moses, his teeth
chattering from the draught let in by the opening door. "Hit kilt all
Miss Chris' hop vines las' year, en it'll kill all ez ain't under kiver
ter-night. Hit seems ter sort er lay holt er yo' chist en clean grip
hit."