FOLKS FROM DIXIE
when he was compelled to answer some direct questions.
Harold Dokesbury knew that unless he could overcome this reserve, his power over the youth was gone. He bent every effort to do it.
"What do you say to a turn down the street with me?" he asked as he rose from breakfast.
'Lias shook his head.
"What! You haven't deserted me already?"
The older people had gone out, but young Gray looked furtively about before he replied: "You know I ain't fittin' to go out with you— aftah— aftah— yestiddy."
A dozen appropriate texts rose in the preacher's mind, but he knew that it was not a preaching time, so he contented himself with saying,—
"Oh, get out! Come along!"
"No, I cain't. I cain't. I wisht I could! You need n't think I's ashamed, 'cause I ain't. Plenty of 'em git drunk, an' I don't keer nothin' 'bout dat"—this in a defiant tone.
"Well, why not come along, then?"
"I tell you I cain't. Don't ax me no mo'. It ain't on my account I won't go. It's you."
"Me! Why, I want you to go."
58
