“Sho Gawd is.” Gussie assured her. “Maggie got her one husban’; an’ had her one sho-nuff weddin’, wid all de church bells ringin’; went ridin’ all thoo de town, settin’ back on de ca’idge seat ’long-side her fright’nes’-lookin’ skinny old man; wid a weepin’ veil hangin’ down ove’ her face, an’ a aw’inge flower wreath settin’ ’cross her fawid; jes’ a-bowin’ an’ smilin’ at people, like she wan’ show ’um she kin put on wreath an’ veil even if she is look like somebody come off a bad street.... Sho did. ’Twas like a fatal purrade goin’ roun’ Gritny.” “Lawd, people! Lissen w’at Gussie sayin’.” Nookie exclaimed, laughing heartily. “Settin’ up in a ca’idge, wid aw’inge flowers on her head, brazen as she is! Lawd, people! Don’t you know da’s comical?” “W’at make Maggie ain’ got de right to put aw’inge flowers in her head if da’s her pleasure?” Came Nat’s dissenting voice. “Y’all niggers sho like to fin’ somh’n wrong wid yuther people ways. Maggie got a right to put mustud-greens, an’ twis’ cow-pea vines in her head if she fin’ it make her look good; an’ if da’s de way her min’ be workin’.” “But, Unc’ Nat,” Scilla essayed to explain in behalf of the sisterhood, “de wimmins gotta think a li’l somh’n ’bout form an’ fashion, ain’t dey?... Wearin’ aw’inge flowers public like dat sho is redic’lus; cheap as Maggie bin made herself yonder in Gritny wid de mens.” Getting up from his chair and gesticulating with both arms, as though addressing a crowd on an open road, Felo called out: “Stan’ back, members! Stan’ back, an’ make room. ’Cause us sanctified sisters done commence pitchin’ rocks an’ stones.” “Scilla ain’ spoke nothin’ w’at ain’ true,” Gussie interposed. “Evvybody yonder know Maggie hist’ry.” At this point Susan’s rumination became audible: “An’ all dem w’at don’t, dey ain’ goin’ be long findin’ out, w’en yo’ mouf start runnin’.” “Can’t help from knowin’ w’at I know, Aun’ Susan,” Gussie replied hurriedly in self-vindication. “Ain’ I bin worked for Maggie, spadin’ her garden, an’ w’ite-washin’ her kitchen; an’ bin had de freedom o’ de whole house, day-time an’ night-time, too?” With sharp impatience Nat called to him: “Stop right whah you is, Gussie; befo’ you try to make we-all b’lieve you had de freedom o’ somh’n else besides.” Laughing boisterously, Gussie said: “Money ain’ nothin’ but money w’en somebody got somh’n to sell, ain’t it?... An’ one man ain’ look much diffunt from a yuther man in de dark,—even if he do be w’ite.” A sudden reprimand from Susan interrupted his laughter. “Look, Gussie!” He heard her call. “Black or w’ite,—w’ichever color you wan’ call it,—but you ain’ in no bar-room. Either yonder on de levee-front. So you better talk diffunt talk, if you wanna stay hyuh a li’l w’ile soshable dis evenin’.” “I ain’ try’n to ack ugly, Aun’ Susan.” Gussie insisted. “I jes’ wan’ p’int out how Maggie try’n to make herself look like somh’n she _ain’t_. Da’s all.”