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Read, Opie Percival, 1852-1939

"The Starbucks"

My fust wife wuz Sue,
an' she wuz er good 'oman, I tell you. But she liked music too well. Dar
come up yere one dem yaller barbers, an' he pick er thing at her dat
looked sorter like er banjo, an' she cl'ared out wid him."
"That was sad."
"Yas'm. An' den dar wuz Tildy. She wuz monst'us fine. Jest about de
color o' er new saddle. I lubbed dat lady."
"What became of her?"
"Who, Tildy? Wall, er white lady come up yere an' she had er silk shawl
an' da fooled roun' till da 'cuzed Tildy o' stealin' it an' da sont her
ter de pennytenchy."
"What, on an accusation?"
"Wall, da keep er pesterin' roun' till da proved it on her. Yas'm." He
got up and slowly limped over toward her. "An' ain't you got fifty cents
you could give me fur all dis inflamation? I needs it might'ly."
"Why, didn't you just tell me that mammy left you twenty dollars?"
"Ur--yes'm--in her will. But I got ter go an' sign de will an' dat'll
cost me fifty cents."
"That's a peculiar sort of law."
"Yas'm. I didn't like dat law myse'f an' I told 'em ter 'peal it, but da
wouldn't.


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