After a long silence Vinegar said mournfully:
“I cogitate dat they done deeprive me of my goat, Skeeter.”
“Yes, sur; dat’s so, suh. It ’pears to me dat you is fightin’ it out wid yo’se’f fer de las’ place in de race.”
Vinegar Atts sighed. He picked up his pipe from the ground, filled it with strong perique tobacco, lighted it, then let the bowl drop off of the stem, scattering the ashes over his lap and spilling the tobacco. Not noticing the accident, Vinegar sucked vigorously on the stem, and gave himself up to gloomy meditations.
“I been de pasture of de Shoofly church fer twenty year hand-runnin’, Skeeter,” Vinegar remarked at last. “I begged de loose change outen de pockets of de white folks to build dat church. I wus de fust preacher an’ de onlies’ preacher dey is ever had dar. An’ now dey is gwine gib me de farewell go-by.”
“Dat new nigger preacher shore is makin’ a bull-eye hit wid de members,” Skeeter remarked. “You see, de members of de Shoofly church is done got acquainted wid yo’ ways. Dey done listened to dem same sermonts fer de las’ twenty year----”
“Dey listen but dey don’t heed,” Vinegar Atts interrupted disgustedly.
“Shorely. Dat’s de way mos’ church members is,” Skeeter replied. “But, you see, dis new preacher he comes in wid a new loud voice----”
“You gimme a good dram an’ two sour lemons an’ I kin beller louder dan any yuther preacher in de worl’,” Vinegar Atts declared.
“Suttinly,” Skeeter replied propitiatingly. “But dese Tickfall niggers is done got intimate wid yo’ bawl an’ it don’t sot heavy on deir minds no more. Dey figger dat dey needs a change of tone.”
“Dey shore is treated me jes’ like a feetball,” Vinegar mourned. “Kicked me aroun’ scandalous!”
“Is de cormittee fired you yit?” Skeeter asked sympathetically.
“Naw!” Vinegar exploded. “Ef dey fires me, I’ll punch de stuffin’ outen deir hides. But I ’spose dey is gittin’ ready to send me my resign.”
“Dat’s powerful bad,” Skeeter sighed. “I stuck to you like a frien’ because you is always been one of my bes’ silent customers. I talked for you awful hard, an’ holped you all I could. I’s sorry dat dey drapped you down.”
“Dat new preacher worked a buzzo on me,” Vinegar lamented. “He fotch up in dis town while I wus oozin’ along in de Shongaloo woods, an’ had all de cormittee pregaged befo’ I got back. Fust news I knowed he had done hogged all de hominy. He hadn’t oughter did me dat way.”