Chapter V: Skeeter Helps Some More

Early the next morning Tick Hush appeared at the Hen-Scratch saloon and found Skeeter Butts nursing a grouch and sundry bruises, all of which he had received in his wild flight through the graveyard.

“Whut you showin’ up here fer?” Skeeter snarled.

“Troubles,” Tick told him.

“I’m got ’em of my own,” Skeeter snapped. “Don’t pesticate me.”

“You’s de only good-advicin’ nigger in Tickfall, Skeeter,” Tick said earnestly. “Ef a feller cain’t ax you ’terrogations, he mought as well go out an’ suicide hisse’f!”

“Ain’t it de trufe!” Skeeter grinned, greatly mollified by this praise. “Whut ails you now?”

“I had a leetle talk wid Limit an’ Vakey las’ night, an’ I done decided to cut ’em bofe out. Dey argufies pretty sharp yistiddy evenin’. One of ’em applied at me wid a big gun--I don’t favor dat kind of nigger.”

“Ef you is done got dat wise, you don’t need no more advices,” Skeeter grinned. “Eve’y nigger woman argufies wid guns an’ razors an’ skillets, an’ truck like dat. Of co’se, ef you cuts all dat out, dat means you ain’t gwine hitch double wid nobody.”

“But I got to marry!” Tick exclaimed. “Marse Tom specify----”

“All right!” Skeeter interrupted tartly. “Who am de choosen woman now?”

“Well, suh, I cogitate dat Button Hook is de right kind of meekified woman fer me to take on,” Tick declared. “Button is kinder sweet an’ soft-spoke.”

“I fell in love wid a woman like dat wunst,” Skeeter grinned. “Us wus about to git married. I axed her whut she done fer a livin’ so she could suppote me like I wus raised--an’ she said she an’ her pap kotch snakes in de swamp an’ sold ’em to show folks in a circus. De nex’ time I seed her she had a lapful of rattlesnakes--dat wus de last time I looked at her, too!”

“My Lawd!” Tick murmured.

“You cain’t tell nothin’ ’bout pickin’ ’em,” Skeeter continued. “Dey’s2 wuss’n race-hosses. You bet yo’ money an’ you lose it on a hoss; you bet yo’ money an’ you lose it on a woman; an’ on top of dat you is wished yo’se’f a live job, losin’ money all de time.”

“Now, ’bout dis Button Hook--” Tick began.

“Suttinly,” Skeeter Butts interrupted. “She’ll throw de hook inter you all right. You go nibblin’ aroun’ dat hook an’ you’s already a sucker on a string--powerful soon you’ll be crackin’ an’ fryin’ in a skillet. Suttinly--go ahead! Whut wus you gwine to say?”

“I wus fixin’ to remark dat she comes in pretty handy right now. Dat’s my onlies’ chance. Marse Tom specify fer me to seleck a third party. De kunnel an’ Judge Lanark gib me a few advices las’ night, an’ bofe dem white mens said dey would stan’ by me.”

Skeeter sat up with a sudden and great interest.

“Why’n’t you tell me dat Kunnel Gaitskill an’ Jedge Lanark wus backin’ you in dis race? Dat makes it plum diffunt. I jines in wid de white folks, too.”

“Dat happifies me consid’able, Skeeter,” Tick exclaimed with a wide grin. “Whut is our fust move-up?”

“We mought write a letter to Button----”

“Naw!” Tick exploded. “Jedge Lanark say dat govermint wus agin love letters--dey gits you in trouble wid de cotehouse. Dem two niggers drapped dem letters on de groun’ las’ night, an’ I foun’ ’em close to de Shoofly chu’ch dis mawnin’. I got ’em in de inside coat-pocket right now, next to my heart.”

“Gib ’em to me--” Skeeter said eagerly.

“Naw, suh. I’ll tote ’em in my own coat-pocket,” Tick snarled. “I let you keep one yistiddy an’ it got away from you! Go on wid dem Button advices!”

“You mought send Button a box of candy, den wait a day or two an’ go out dar an’ talk sweet----”

“’Twon’t do, Skeeter. Candy costs money; excusin’ dat, I got to hurry along wid dis mattermony--I needs somepin hasty.”

“Run in dar some night an’ kidnap her up!” Skeeter suggested.

“Say, Skeeter,” Tick asked with a wide grin, “did you ever hear a skeart nigger woman holler?”

“Yes, indeedy,” the little barkeeper snickered. “I heerd two las’ night. Steamboat whistles am jes’ little wheezes when a nigger woman begins to squall.”

“No nigger-stealin’ fer me,” Tick announced with finality.

Skeeter lighted a cigarette and began to ponder.

Give Skeeter Butts the number two, and his active brain could always make four or forty-four by the simple process of multiplying. From the little Tick Hush had said, Skeeter multiplied and got this result: Gaitskill and Lanark had selected Button Hook as a suitable wife for Tick Hush; the white folks would be greatly disappointed if Tick did not marry her; any man who helped Tick get married to the woman of their choice would be in good favor with those two influential white men.

Reasoning thus, Skeeter determined to invent a plan which would insure a hasty marriage between Tick and Button, and he resolved at the same time to be the best man at their wedding. Most people, facing this situation, would have told Tick to go to Button Hook and ask her to marry him, pressing his suit with ardor, eloquence, and affection until the lady consented. But Skeeter never could think of the obvious thing.

There was a long silence in the Hen-Scratch saloon, interrupted only by the scratching of matches and the jiggering of feet.

At length Skeeter stood up with a loud laugh.

“Gee,” he howled. “My brains shore is actin’ like gourd-seeds to-day--I wonder how I never thunk of dat at fust!”

“Don’t bust no jokes on me, Skeeter,” Tick warned him. “Dis here is solemn bizzness, an’ de white folks don’t take no nigger foolishness.”

“Listen, Tick!” Skeeter commanded. “Whut you needs is a few lessons in coteship an’ marriage.”

“Dat’s a fack,” Tick agreed. “I needs a shawt cut-off.”

“Dar’s a actor-woman in dis town named Dazzle Zenor. She plays love parts in shows. I acted wid her once--we wus stunt-dancers fer de Nigger Uplift dat time I got shotted accidental.”

“Dat don’t he’p me none----”

“Aw, shut up!” Skeeter snapped. “You listen to me talk! Fools like you gimme a pain. Now, dis here Dazzle gal, she knows all about how to make love an’ how to cote a gal an’ how to ax to git married because she studies dat fer de stage.”

“I sees de light,” Tick grinned.

“Now, de dog’s tail wags dis way,” Skeeter said, warming up to his great idea. “You wants to go to Dazzle Zenor an’ ax her to gib you a few cheap lessons on how to make love an’ git married quick.”

“Dat’s whut I needs!” Tick agreed hesitatingly.

“Is you got any money on yer?” Skeeter demanded.

“De kunnel gib me five dollars las’ night,” Tick replied reluctantly.

“Dat’s a plenty,” Skeeter told him. “Dazzle will gib you five dollars’ wuth of lessons, an’ den you kin git married jes’ like drappin’ a hat.”

“Whar do Dazzle stay at?”

“She stays at Ginny Babe Chew’s house.”

“Would you mind gwine wid me, Skeeter?” Tick inquired. “I needs somebody to he’p me make de fust arrangements.”

“I never had no yuther idear!” Skeeter howled. “Ain’t dis here my plan? I don’t let no rooster like you crow up my big idears--I sees ’em through.”

He reached for his hat, and Tick stood up to go with him. Then he whooped:

“Oh, Little Bit! You take keer dis saloom till I gits back!”