"Wall, w'en it do fall you ain't gwine furgit it. Jest thought I'd drap in an' rest er while," he continued, going over and seating himself on the wood pile. "Dat dear ole mammy lef' me twenty dollars." "Kind old soul, wasn't she?" "Yas'm. An' dar ain't many folks dat lef' me twenty dollars w'en da died. I's had er good many wives fust an' last, but I ain't neber married no sich er 'oman ez dat." "Then you have been married several times, have you, Kintchin?" "Yas'm. Dar wuz my fust wife an' my fust step-wife, an'--" "Your first step-wife?" "Yas'm--stepped inter de place o' my fust wife. My fust wife wuz Sue, an' she wuz er good 'oman, I tell you. But she liked music too well. Dar come up yere one dem yaller barbers, an' he pick er thing at her dat looked sorter like er banjo, an' she cl'ared out wid him." "That was sad." "Yas'm. An' den dar wuz Tildy. She wuz monst'us fine. Jest about de color o' er new saddle. I lubbed dat lady." "What became of her?" "Who, Tildy? Wall, er white lady come up yere an' she had er silk shawl an' da fooled roun' till da 'cuzed Tildy o' stealin' it an' da sont her ter de pennytenchy." "What, on an accusation?" "Wall, da keep er pesterin' roun' till da proved it on her. Yas'm." He got up and slowly limped over toward her. "An' ain't you got fifty cents you could give me fur all dis inflamation? I needs it might'ly." "Why, didn't you just tell me that mammy left you twenty dollars?" "Ur--yes'm--in her will. But I got ter go an' sign de will an' dat'll cost me fifty cents." "That's a peculiar sort of law." "Yas'm. I didn't like dat law myse'f an' I told 'em ter 'peal it, but da wouldn't." "Well," she said, arising and starting toward the house, "as you are so honest and industrious, I'll get it for you." He looked after her and mused. "No matter whar er 'oman is when you ax her fur money, she got ter go some whar else ter git it. Huh, but deze innercent ladies is de sort dat suits me. I doan like deze ladies dat doan blebe nuthin' you say." Mrs. Mayfield came out of the house. "Here it is," she said, giving him a piece of silver. "Thankee, ma'm. I's gwine pray fur you de fust chance I gits, an' it won't be long now dat my rush is sorter ober fo' I does git er chance. But ef you'll jest gib me er quarter mo' I'll leave off ever'thin' an' pray fur you right now." "No, that's enough." "Doan blebe much in pra'r, does you? Wall, I hatter make dis do." Mrs. Mayfield stood at the gap, gazing down the road, and the old negro remarked to himself: "Dat's de way er lady looks w'en she's expectin' er man. Things is er gwine on roun' dis place. Dar ain't been all dis light steppin' fur nuthin'. Wush I could go somewhar an' pick me up er chunk o' er wife. It's er gittin' erbout time fur me ter marry ag'in."