“Dat’s right!” Popsy exclaimed, in his high, cracked falsetto. “You warn him good!” Skeeter wandered down to the shore of the little lake and sat down alone to think out some method of defeating Pap’s designs. After an hour Figger Bush found him by the glow of his cigarette, and came and sat beside him. “De only way to bust Pap’s plans, Figger, is to marry dat fat Solly Skaggs to somebody else.” “Who’ll take her?” Figger inquired. “It’ll hab to be somebody dat ain’t married already,” Skeeter said. “You’s de only onmarried man I knows, excusin’ Pap,” Figger giggled. “I guess you’ll hab to make de riffle.” Skeeter considered this a moment in silence. Then he asked: “Is she so awful fat as people says she is?” “Ain’t you never seed her?” Figger exclaimed. “Honey, de half ain’t never yit been told! She’s been reg’lar to her meals ever since she wus borned, an’ her meals is been frequent an’ copious, an’ her vittles is agreed wid her too well! Come on, Skeeter, lemme interjuice you to yo’ future wife!” Figger rose to his feet with eagerness. Skeeter shook his head and sighed. “I wouldn’t choose any, Figger. I’d druther Pap Curtain would rival me out of bizzness.” “Mebbe we could wish her onto somebody else,” Figger proposed. “I been tryin’ to think up some onmarried man,” Skeeter told him, “but I don’t see none in sight.” They smoked for an hour longer without producing a spark of an idea. At last Skeeter said: “All I kin do jes’ now, Figger, is to keep Pap away from dat gal ontil I finds a fitten secont husbunt fer her. Dar’s gwine be a prize-dance to-night an’ I nominates you to dance wid Sister Solly Skaggs.” “Ef she trods on me I’ll be a squashed worm of de dust,” Figger wailed. “Don’t talk back,” Skeeter replied sharply. “I’ll fix it so you an’ Sister Solly win de prize.” III “DAT FAT, FLOUNDERIN’ FOOL” Mrs. Solly Skaggs was a widow of the sod variety and had enjoyed her matrimonial release for about six months. She had not mourned too much for Solly nor had she loved him much. For he was about as lovable as a sick dog and his departure from the world was a distinct blessing to all the inhabitants thereof. Old Isaiah Gaitskill, in discussing her chances for matrimony again, assured her that no negro would marry her because she was too fat. But this did not discourage the lady and there was no indication of despair either in her manner or her deportment, for she dressed and acted like a miss of sweet sixteen. Old Popsy Spout stood on the edge of the throng and watched her elephantine performances on the dancing-floor. Growing weary, he walked over and sat down upon a bench beside Pap Curtain. “Look at dat fool nigger gal, Pap,” he whined. “I been livin’ off and on nigh onto one hundred year an’ I done seen plenty sights, but dat fat fool flounderin’ on dat floor is de wust sight till yit.”