"You ain' never had no chist, nohow," remarked Delphy disdainfully. "Hit
don't take mo'n er spit er fros' ter freeze thoo you. You de coldest
innered somebody I ever lay eyes on. Dar mought ez well be er fence rail
er roun' on er winter night fer all de wa'mth ez is in yo' bones."

"Dat's so," admitted Moses shamefacedly. "Dat's so. Dese yer nights,
when de fire is all gone, is moughty near ter freezin' me out er house
en home. I ain' never seed ne'r quilt ez wuz made fur er hull fambly
yit. Wid me ter pull en Betsey ter pull en de chillun ter pull, whar de
quilt?"

"Dar ain' no blankets dese days," said Uncle Ish sadly. "Dey ain' got
mo'n er seasonin' er wool in dese yer sto' stuff. Dey wa'nt dat ar way
in ole times, sis Verbeny. Bless yo' soul, sis Verbeny, dey wan't dat ar
way."

"Ole Miss she use ter have eve'y stitch er her wool carded fo' her own
eyes," said Aunt Verbeny. "What wa'nt good enough fer her wuz good
enough fer de res', en we got hit. Ef'n de briars wouldn't come out'n it
soon ez she laid her han' on 'em, Ole Miss she turnt up her nose en
thowed de wool on ter de niggers' pile. Hit had ter be pisonous white
en sof fo' hit 'ud tech Ole Missusses skin. Noner yo' nappy stuff done
come near her."

Uncle Ish chuckled and hung his head on his breast.

"Doze wuz times!" he cried, "doze wuz times, en dese ain't times!"

Then he looked at Nicholas, who was watching the apples spinning in the
heat.