Thurman, although two and fifty, was no "poke;" but was a sport too. His began early Sunday morning. One Sunday morn, as they lay abed, after the light of the world had come back and claimed its own, Thurman called to Sidney where the other lay reposing in the pages of a "best seller." "Say, kid! how 'bout a little toddy this mawnin'?" "I'm there," came the reply. "Good!" exclaimed Thurman. "Guess, tho' I'll haf to go after it, 's see you lost in a book all time. Gee! Looks lak you'd lose your mind a-readin' so much." No comment. "Guess that's why you got all these nigga's a-argun' 'roun' heah though; cause you read and they don't. M-m; yeh, yeh; that makes a diff'nce. M-m." "Wull, reckon' ah'll haf t' git in muh breeches and crawl ou' and git dat stuff t' make it wid. M-m. Old Mis' 'roun' the conah 'll be glad t' git dis twenty cents dis mawnin'. M-m. Wull, kid, be back t'rectly." He was, sooner than expected. He didn't get outside. He peeped out. What met his gaze would send any southern rheumatic Negro back. It was snow. "Jesus Chr-i-s-t!" he exclaimed, returning hastily from the hallway. "Hell has sho turned on dis' mawnin out dare. K-whew! 'f the's anything in this world I hates, it's snow." Sidney stopped reading long enough for a good laugh, as Thurman skinned off his trousers and clambered back into bed. "Aw, shucks, Thur, this is a morning for toddies." "A mawnin' fo' Hell, yes, hu! hu! Wow!" After a spell, he peeped from beneath the coverlets. "Say! since ah come t' think uv't, we c'n have them toddies wid-out get'n froze out in doin' it." "How's that?" asked the other. "I'll get dat liquah from John." "And who is John?" "John? Wull, did'n' you git 'quainted wi'im when I brung you heah? John's the man we room with. He sells liquah." * * * * * "Say Spoon," said Sidney one day, "I'm going to cut the tiger kitin' out." "Aw, gwan, kid, what you talkin' 'bout?" "I'm going to church in the mornings, and in the evenings, I hope to find a place that will be more in keeping with respectable people," announced Sidney. "Come on, let's go up here to old lady Macks, and get some of that 'Sparrow Gin,'" Spoon suggested, temptingly. "To prove that I am not likely to keep my resolution." "You've none to keep as I can particular see. I have never seen you drink anything stronger than beer when you've been with me. You seem to go along with me, to see me and the others act a fool. Sometimes you impress me as being a strange person.... I wonder. Now I wonder...." "Where is a church that would be likely to appeal to you and myself?" "Up on Herald Street is one that I think will appeal to _you_. You're serious. Me--I'm quite unfit for any; but I'll take you up there, and sit through one of Hodder's sermons if you care to go. My people are members of that church, and it is a progressive one." "We will attend services there--Sunday morning." Wyeth became a regular visitor.