He walked barefooted through the woods and came out at a level plantation some distance back from the river. In the middle of a cow-pasture, a tall, brown, bright-eyed negro watched Hitch approach with impassive curiosity. “Howdy, my brudder!” Hitch boomed. “How am yo’ soul an’ spirit dis day?” “De spirit is pretty low, elder,” the farmer replied. “De ole woman am got de dram all locked up tight.” “How come you choose de lily-pad route an’ live on water?” Hitch asked in a disappointed tone. “I got married,” the young negro responded with a grin. Suddenly a big Jersey bull broke through the underbrush and came toward the two men, snorting, bellowing, pawing the ground, tossing the dirt upon his shoulders, and shaking his powerful head. “Dat’s mine, stranger,” the young man remarked proudly, removing the top from a bucket on his arm and tossing a handful of salt at the animal’s feet. “He don’t like dat red undershirt of your’n. Ain’t him a dandy?” “Shore is,” Hitch said meditatively. After a moment, he added: “Ef dat ole bull wus to hook one of us, I ’speck yo’ bride would affode us a little dram to stimulate us up.” “I resigns in yo’ favor, elder,” the owner grinned. “Ef dis here beast wus to butt me, he’d jolt all my kinnery plum’ back to Afriky.” There was a period of silent and fruitless meditation. Then, sorrowfully, Hitch Diamond reached to his hip-pocket and brought forth his purple socks with the yellow stripes--all, except his trousers, that remained of his former glory. “Whut’s yo’ name?” Hitch asked. “Dey calls me Dude Blackum because I got a gold tooth,” the other informed him. “Whut is yo’ wife called?” Hitch asked next. “Dainty.” “I wants to make a little trade, Dude,” Hitch remarked, after he had told his own name. “Dese here socks costed me two dollars. My head ain’t thinkin’ right to-day. You is a heavy thinker. Ef you kin think up a sketch of how I kin git a dram right now, I’ll bestow dese here socks on you.” “De trade is did!” Dude grinned, showing his gold tooth. “Lemme think!” “Bawl out, nigger!” Hitch grumbled after a little wait. “Don’t keep me waitin’ here in expense no longer.” “I wus studyin’ ’bout dis,” Dude said. “I’s got a little touch of lumbago in my legs. An’ mebbe, ef dat bull would jes’ butt me real easy like, an’ I’d kinder drap off in dat bayou an’ git wet, an’ den walk back home in drippy clothes wid dis mis’ry gnawin’ at my legs----” Hitch’s face was so expressive of contempt that Dude stopped speaking. “Is dat whut you call heavy thinkin’?” Hitch inquired in sarcastic tones. “Dat high-brow plan might steal you a nubbin of corn from a blind pig’s slop-trough. But Dainty ain’t no blind pig--dese here brides gits awful wise on deir husbunts atter dey marries ’em.”