“Is you runnin’ fer presidunt?” Figger asked. “I thought you said you squealed2 too much when you talked.”
“I’s runnin’ fer vice-presidunt,” Skeeter said solemnly. “I’s runnin’ wid Mustard Prophet an’ us is shore gwine gib you an’ Pap Curtain a happy time gittin’ elected.”
“Dat looks bad to me, Skeeter—pardners in bizzness runnin’ ag’in’ each yuther.”
“Dat’s de best bizzness trick I’s done yit,” Skeeter said confidently. “Bofe sides uses dis house fer headquarters. I sells drinks to de Mustard Prophets an’ you sells drinks to de Pap Curtains, an’ we ketch ’em comin’ an’ gwine.”
“I sees,” Figger exclaimed in a voice which throbbed3 with admiration4. “Dat’s de best nigger idear in Tickfall. We’ll git rich an’ one of us will git elected.”
“Look out fer Ginny Babe Chew!” the voice of Little Bit proclaimed from the other end of the room, where the little darky wrestled5 with a broom. “She’s de one whut’ll ketch you-alls comin’ an’ gwine!”
“Us don’t care nothin’ fer dat ole squawkin’ fat hen,” Skeeter replied contemptuously.
“You better not git too close,” Little Bit warned. “Dat ole hen’ll peck you!”
“Shut up! You git dis saloon cleant up. Us is expect plenty comp’ny to-day.”
“It wus a narrer squeak7 fer us, Figger,” Skeeter said earnestly. “When you didn’t stay neuter dis bizzness wus ’bout to go bust8 ontil I made dem new arrangements.”
During the day Pap Curtain came in and held sundry9 whispered conferences with Figger Bush. Mustard Prophet drove to town and was closeted for two hours with Skeeter Butts. Both men were arranging for a conference at the Hen-Scratch saloon that night with their henchmen, and both barkeepers were feeling elated at the prospect10 of a prosperous evening.
Then Vinegar Atts entered and spoiled it all. He left his little red runabout snorting and spitting outside the door while he entered with haste carrying some of the paraphernalia11 of a fisherman.
“Gimme a little snake-bite med’cine, Skeeter,” he yelled. “I’s in a hurry. I’s gwine fishin’ an’ I’s heard tell dat snakes in plenty in de swamp.”
“Is fish bitin’?” Figger inquired.
“Dunno,” Vinegar replied. “I done selected dis occupation to keep from stayin’ in town. Dat Uplift election is done deprived me of my goat. I’s skeart to stay here an’ git on either side. It’ll bust up my Shoofly chu’ch.”
“Ef us wus twins an’ could git on bofe sides, dat wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“Whar you been at dat you don’t know nothin’?” demanded Vinegar in disgusted tones. “Some of dem niggers whut represent bofe sides come to my chu’ch to prayer-meetin’ last night, an’ dey got in a fight at de door of de meetin’-house!”
“Dey oughter be churched!” Skeeter exclaimed.
“Dey would hab been churched, only I agonized12 wid ’em an’ got ’em to bury de hatchet13. But I ain’t runnin’ no risks. Dey buried de hatchet, but dey left de handle stickin’ out!”
“Dat’s bad news, Rev’un,” Skeeter sighed. “Dis here am de official headquarters of bofe sides.”
“Bad luck, Skeeter!” Vinegar bellowed14 as he started toward the door. “You better hang a piece of black crape on de Hen-Scratch door and go fishin’ wid me. Dem niggers will shore rough-house you when dey git started, an’ you’ll be same as dead.”
Vinegar departed, leaving uneasiness and anxiety where confidence had been.
In the evening, the saloon rapidly filled with negroes who came in from the country. They were all hardy15 men, with muscles of oak and iron—one-shirt, one-gallus fellows of the baser sort, who despised the colored man who lived in town, wore a derby hat, sported a high collar, and was stuck up. These were all sullen16 and devoted17 adherents19 of Pap Curtain, and after listening for a while to their bitter anarchistic20 talk, Figger Bush became frightened of his own supporters and wished there was some easy and unostentatious way to resign.
“Dem fellers is rambunctious,” he whispered fearfully to his partner. “Dey comes at eve’ything butt-end fust an’ hits it wid a jolt21. I wish I hadn’t never et outen de same spoon wid ’em.”
“Don’t stir ’em up too much, Figger,” Skeeter urged him. “Mebbe when some of my gang comes in dey’ll calm down a little.”
But Skeeter found that when a bull is mad the sight of another bull does not calm his spirit; it rouses him to battle.
A number of town negroes drifted in, took a look at the situation, and drifted quietly out. They had counted the number of Pap’s adherents and had gone for re?nforcements, for the saloon was soon filled with men who were loud in their praise of Mustard Prophet, and they outnumbered Pap’s followers22 three to one.
Pap’s crowd, dusty, ragged23, trampish-looking, drew off at one end of the saloon and composed a little, sour, ugly bunch; over against the more dressy Tickfall bunch, they were a sad contrast, and they felt it.
Then Pap Curtain entered the scene, and his followers took heart.
Pap was practicing the political trick of looking like he belonged to the great common people, and had come up from the commonest of them all. He was a grave-digger and well-digger by profession, and he looked to-night like he had just finished the job of digging all the graves and wells that would be needed in Tickfall Parish for many years to come. There was fresh clay on his clothes and hat and shoes; clay streaked24 his yellow baboon25 face, and was plastered thick upon his horny hands. He joined his bunch with many noisy greetings and much hand-shakings, and glared over at the town crowd with every manifestation26 of contempt that he could devise.
Mustard Prophet came in and joined the town crowd. He was a good-natured, easy-smiling, hard-working negro who had the confidence and esteem27 of all the people in the town, white and black. Yet he was a real country negro, who had never lived in Tickfall in his life, while Pap had spent many years in Tickfall and owned his cabin there.
Smilingly, Mustard turned to Skeeter, and said, loud enough for everyone to hear:
“Less git dese here obsequies started, Skeeter. What am de plogram?”
“I ain’t fixed28 up no special diagram,” Skeeter muttered. “Mebbe we mought start somepin off ef bofe de leadin’ candidates made a speech.”
“Let ’em speech!” a number of voices exclaimed.
“Brudders, I introduces Pap Curtain,” Skeeter announced. “He’s runnin’ fer presidunt of de Uplift. We axes him to say de fust words.”
“I ain’t used to speakin’ ’thout I kin6 cuss,” Pap Curtain began, in his snarly29 voice, gazing at the Prophet aggregation30 with contemptuous eyes and sneering31 lips. “When I sees a lot of dude niggers tryin’ to ack like Gawd made a mistake when He didn’t make ’em white, I don’t cuss, because I ain’t able to do the subjeck jestice. I thanks de good Lawd dat I ain’t nothin’ but a corn-fiel’ nigger, brudder of de cotton-fiel’ mule32, an’ I makes my livin’ diggin’ wells, ditches, an’ graves. I done dug de graves of all de dead, an’ now I’s gittin’ ready to dig de graves of some dat’s livin’. We corn-fiel’ niggers will bury Mustard Prophet an’ his Tickfall dudes when de day of votin’ comes!”
A sullen note of applause came from Pap’s ugly-looking crowd, but there was no enthusiasm, no good-will. In a word, Pap’s crowd were not good sportsmen. One man took a big red apple out of his pocket, wiped it off on the leg of his trousers and began to eat it.
“I now introduces Mustard Prophet,” Skeeter announced uneasily.
There was handclapping, several shouts of applause. Mustard’s crowd had been trained in the lodges34 and the various clubs and knew a little better how to act under the circumstances.
“I don’t see no reason fer gittin’ sour an’ ugly, brudders,” Mustard began. “Nobody ain’t gwine lose much ef he don’t git elected presidunt of de league. In de last year I ain’t got nothin’ fer my presidunt job but a cuss-word eve’y time I do somepin dat don’t please nobody. Of co’se I wants to keep on wid dis job an’ hopes you won’t fergit to vote fer me. Pap Curtain says he’s a corn-fiel’, cotton-fiel’ nigger, but dar ain’t no man, white ner black, dat ever seed him wuckin’ in no kind of fiel’ as a country nigger oughter do. He lives in dis town, an’ he owns his house in dis town. As you-all knows, I’s a real country nigger, never did live in town, an’ I been de overseer of Marse Tom’s plantation35 fer twenty year. I tries to stand by de high notions of de Uplift. I preaches dat a feller ought to dress up in work clothes when he wucks, an’ put on his compan’y clothes when he goes out in sawciety, an’ wear his Sunday clothes at de lodge33 an’ de fun’ral an’ de meetin’-house——”
At this point the apple-eating adherent18 of Pap Curtain had consumed his apple to the core. He balanced it on his thumb as a child prepares to shoot a marble, and flicked36 it across the room, where it landed on the top of Mustard Prophet’s bald head.
Mustard Prophet stepped down from the chair on which he was standing37, walked quietly across the room, laid hold of the collar of the offender38, kicked his shins, punched his jaw39, then turned him around and booted him across the room.
It was no more than the offender deserved, but he offered all the resistance and counter-offensive in his power, and while this was going on someone slipped behind Mustard and administered a lusty and soul-satisfying kick to him.
The notion became contagious40. The two forces joined in combat, but, strange to say, they did not fight with fists, but with feet.
“Look at dat!” Little Bit exclaimed, as he scrambled41 to a safe place on the top of the bar, where he danced up and down in his high-heeled pumps. “Eve’ybody is tryin’ to kick eve’ybody else!”
In a moment the crowd was so cramped43 for room that they had to abandon that mode of combat and began to fight with their fists. They milled around and around, pounding, scrouging, punching with elbows, while their voices rose in a mighty44 diaphony of imprecation and abuse.
“Lawd! Lawd!” Little Bit exclaimed in a prayerful voice from his place of safety on the bar. “Eve’ybody is tryin’ to hit eve’ybody else!”
In the fury of battle the men sought other weapons and found the numerous chairs most convenient. In the jam they found it impossible to swing the chairs and hit with them, so they held the chairs before them, as a lion-tamer does, and charged their opponents, holding their heads low to avoid being clubbed. The resemblance to a lot of milling, horning cattle struck Little Bit at once, and from his vantage-point upon the bar he announced the procedure:
Skeeter Butts had seen as much of the fray46 as he could stand, so he ran behind the bar, seized his automatic pistol and fired it in the air, holding the weapon out of the window. He knew how dangerous such a performance was, for it might suggest to the angry negroes the use of their own guns. But he took the chance with the hope that the town watchman would hear the firing and come to the rescue.
The negroes took no notice of the pistol-firing, for some of them had found new and mightier47 weapons. There were half a dozen tables in the room, and when some of these were overturned, the men wrenched48 the legs off, and with shouts of glee brought these mighty clubs into action.
“Gawdlemighty!” Little Bit screamed. “Eve’ybody is tryin’ to kill eve’ybody else!”
Figger rushed to the electric-switch and turned off the lights.
Suddenly a voice cut through the sound and fury of that room.
“Hey, you niggers! Turn on the lights!”
Silence except for the tramping of many feet going toward doors and windows.
“Halt!”
Silence, broken by the sound of running feet. The light flashed on and Little Bit stood by the switch.
“Dey’s all went, cap’n,” he snickered. “Nobody here excusin’ me!”
The watchman pushed open the swinging door and passed out into the night.
He carefully examined his garments to see that they had not been hurt in the scramble42, smoothing his flowered shirt-waist shirt, and pulling up his purple-silk stockings till they were trim and neat over his legs.
“I’m glad dem scufflers didn’t spile my ladylike clothes,” he said proudly. “Ginny Babe Chew says I’s de sensation of de town!”
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收听单词发音
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1
butts
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| 笑柄( butt的名词复数 )； （武器或工具的）粗大的一端； 屁股； 烟蒂 | |
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2
squealed
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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throbbed
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| 抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 )； （心脏、脉搏等）跳动 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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wrestled
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| v.（与某人）搏斗( wrestle的过去式和过去分词 )；扭成一团；扭打；（与…）摔跤 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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squeak
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| n.吱吱声，逃脱；v.（发出）吱吱叫，侥幸通过；（俚）告密 | |
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8
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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12
agonized
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| v.使（极度）痛苦，折磨( agonize的过去式和过去分词 )；苦斗；苦苦思索；感到极度痛苦 | |
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hatchet
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| n.短柄小斧；v.扼杀 | |
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14
bellowed
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的过去式和过去分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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15
hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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adherent
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| n.信徒，追随者，拥护者 | |
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adherents
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| n.支持者，拥护者( adherent的名词复数 )；党羽；徒子徒孙 | |
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anarchistic
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| 无政府主义的 | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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23
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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streaked
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| adj.有条斑纹的，不安的v.快速移动( streak的过去式和过去分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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25
baboon
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| n.狒狒 | |
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manifestation
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| n.表现形式；表明；现象 | |
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esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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snarly
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| adj.善于嚣叫的；脾气坏的；爱谩骂的；纠缠在一起的 | |
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aggregation
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| n.聚合，组合；凝聚 | |
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sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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32
mule
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| n.骡子，杂种，执拗的人 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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lodges
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| v.存放( lodge的第三人称单数 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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37
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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38
offender
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| n.冒犯者，违反者，犯罪者 | |
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39
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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40
contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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41
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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42
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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43
cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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44
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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45
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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46
fray
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| v.争吵；打斗；磨损，磨破；n.吵架；打斗 | |
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47
mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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48
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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49
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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50
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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