Flattered with having the honor of being the first one to acquaint Felo with the startling account of Gussie’s death, Lethe lost no time in hurrying to Miss Barbara’s grocery store to communicate with him by telephone. She knew that Felo would just be giving Mr. Amos his breakfast; that it would be the best time to catch him at home, before he went out to market. She was sure that he had not heard from anyone about Tempe’s drowning; so she would tell him all the particulars, and all about the funeral which was to take place that day; and maybe Felo would come over to Gretna early, and they would have a little visit at her house before they went to the graveyard.
Flattered with having the honor of being the first one to acquaint Felo with the startling account of Gussie’s death, Lethe lost no time in hurrying to Miss Barbara’s grocery store to communicate with him by telephone. She knew that Felo would just be giving Mr. Amos his breakfast; that it would be the best time to catch him at home, before he went out to market. She was sure that he had not heard from anyone about Tempe’s drowning; so she would tell him all the particulars, and all about the funeral which was to take place that day; and maybe Felo would come over to Gretna early, and they would have a little visit at her house before they went to the graveyard.
Such astounding news from home so early in the morning, served to arouse Felo’s excitable temperament to unrestrained emotional flights. Mr. Amos sat drinking his coffee, listening to Felo’s exclamations of surprise, waiting patiently for the conversation to end.
When Lethe finished her long harangue, Felo hung up the receiver nervously and came into the dining-room, his eyes staring with a startled expression.
“Dah bless Gawd!” he exclaimed; taking a seatacross the room, near the kitchen door. “I ain’neverknowed it to fail; long as I kin remember,” he went on, with a sweeping gesture of the right arm. “Evvy time you see me dream ’bout fresh meat, you sho find out it ain’ goin’ be mo’n a day pass by, befo’ I hyeah tell ’bout somebody done died.... An’ now I bin had a dream ’bout fresh meat, dis makethreenights successful, han’-runnin’.... An’ hyuh come de news from Lethe dis mawnin’, ’bout two mo’ people done passed out, yonder in Gritny....”
“Never mind your dreams,” Mr. Amos interrupted with an amused smile. “Tell me who’s dead. And you can think about your fresh meat afterwards.”
“Go ’head, an’ laugh much as you please,” Felo answered, a trifle provoked. “Y’all w’ite folks jus’ alike.... All time ready to laugh at somh’n you don’ un’stan....”
“Well, let us hear what Lethe had to say, and maybe I will be better able to interpret your dream,” Mr. Amos encouraged him.
“Da’s de very thing I wan’t tell you. If you only keep still, an’ stop ty’in’ up my pro-gress wid so many on-nec’sary queshtun,” he remonstrated playfully; eager to recount Lethe’s sensational chronicle of disaster.
Three deaths in less than a week’s time! He begansolemnly.... Ole Aunt Milly from down the bayou.... Pulled up in a skiff, all the way from Peach Orchard.... Comin’ all that long distance, rolled up in a blanket.... And buried in a grave half-full of rain water! He went on enumerating the lugubrious incidents; falling into a sort of chant, wavering between two monotonous tones.
Then Tempe, fallin’ in a well and gettin’ drownded so curuss.... And nobody able to get the straight understandin’ about it.... And smack on top of dat: Gussie Fisky, cut down by a switch engine haphazzud.... Right in front of his own house, in the black night.... And nobody close by to carry the news.... Umph-umph! Went the vigorous grunt of contemplation.... What was the world comin’ to?... These Gritny people better make haste and pray. Before Gawd reached down and snatched at ’um; and they come to open their eyes in Tawment.... Beggin’ for mercy when it wasn’t no use.... “Yas Lawd!” he concluded with a deep sigh. “It sho look like sudden deaths is gittin’ pop’lar.”
Knowing Felo’s eager readiness to have a part in every “popular” demonstration of this kind; Mr. Amos asked him how he was going to manage to be present at all the ceremonies.
No. He wasn’t going to take part in Tempe’s burying,Felo explained. They didn’t need him to speed Tempe over.... Tempe was a Chrishtun; and they would have a whole multitude of wimmins there to raise big excitement over her.... He was going to stay home and try to “sun the house,” and wipe up the floors.... Try and see if he couldn’t kill that strong miljew scent Mr. Amos said he found about the house the last couple of days.... Complainin’ and worryin’ about the dinin’room smellin’ mouldy.... And the rain bin fallin’ so steady lately; nobody ain’ goin’ study ’bout openin’ any window to leave in fresh air, damp as ever’thing is out-doors.... Anybody ought to know how that ole grass rug on the floor holds the miljew when the weather be’s rainy.... He was going to stay home and give all his ’tenshun to the house.... If the sun just comed out strong and ’lowed him a chance to work good all day....
But his mind told him that he had to go see Gussie that night.... Gussie was a brother-member of his Lodge. And it was compulsionary for him to be at the wake and go to the funeral.... Aunt Fisky sont him word that she wanted all Gussie’s ole-time playmates to walk ’long-side him for pall-bearers.... So after he got through fixin’ supper, he was goin’ to Gritny, and stay all night; and come back in the evenin’ after the funeral was over.
Fully conscious of the deep importance with which Felo considered his sentimental expedition, and agreeable to leaving him to the enjoyment of his own devices; Mr. Amos told him to take the whole day, and to let the house-cleaning go for another time.
No. He insisted on following his own mind, and getting through with what he had to do, so he would hear no more talk about that play-gone miljew scent in the house; when he got back from Gritny, and wanted to tell about what took place when they put Gussie away.... He couldn’t talk sociable when people kept on makin’ a whole lot of complainin’.... “An’ innyway,—de sun done comed out dis mawnin’, an’ I ain’ goin’ risk puttin’ de thing off no longer.... So gimme some change to go to market an’ buy yo’ li’l foods for dis evenin’.... An’ go ’head to yo’ office, an’ lemme git to my business.”
Mr. Amos gave him the money for the purchases, and was about to leave, when Felo followed him to the door and asked:
“You want some yam sweet potato dis evenin’? Fixed in de oven wid butter an’ milk an’ vunilla essen’, an’ some dem w’ite-o’-aig things you call mush-mallow?”
Mr. Amos gave a smile of assent, remembering thiswas one of Felo’s boasted specialties, and that it was intended as a delicate compliment.
“An’ you want some smothered poke-chops, an’ stuffed aigplant wid swimps in ’um?” Felo suggested.
“Why do you want to make such a feast?” Mr. Amos asked in surprise. “After you finish all the house-cleaning you say you mean to do, you better rest yourself; if you hope to do any singing at a wake tonight.... Fix the yams, if you care to. But get something else easy to cook.”
“Man, go ’head to yo’ office, for Gawd sake,” Felo told him; provoked at having his show of hospitality received with such marked indifference. “’Tain no use try’n to sattafy some people, w’en dey ain’ never learnt how to ’preshate li’l favors did for ’um wid a free heart.... Go ’head to yo’ office.... An’ you better be glad if you come back hyuh an’ fin’ coffee an’ bread to eat, w’en you git home dis evenin’.”