PRETENDING REALITY


The chain-gang had been working in the street not far from Miss
Minerva's house, and Lina, Frances, Billy and Jimmy had hung on
her front fence for an hour, watching them with eager interest.
The negroes were chained together in pairs, and guarded by two,
big, burly white men.

"Let's us play chain-gang," suggested Jimmy.

"Where we goin' to git a chain?" queried Billy; "'t won't be
no fun 'thout a lock an' chain."

"I can get the lock and chain off 'm Sarah Jane's cabin."

"Yo' mama don't 'low you to go to her cabin," said Billy.

"My mama don't care if I just borra a lock and chain; so I 'm
going to get it."

"I'm going to be the perlice of the gang," said Frances.

"Perlice nothing. You all time talking 'bout you going to be
the perlice," scoffed Jimmy. "I'm going to be the perlice
myself."

"No, you are not," interposed Lina, firmly. "Billy and I are the
tallest and we are going to be the guards, and you and Frances
must be the prisoners."