arly. Dese here smokes costes money. An' I couldn't
affode to buy 'em ef I had to wuck fer de money. Dey's a weddin'
present."

"Is you gwine smoke all yo' married life?"

"Yes'm."

"But you ain't gwine smoke no mo' fer de nex' three days, is you?"

"No'm."

Pearline thrust her hand into Plaster's pocket and brought forth his
precious smokes. She concealed them in the mysterious recesses of her
attire and Plaster sighed deeply.

Ten minutes later the girl straightened up with a fierceness that nearly
snapped her spinal column.

"Fer mussy sake, Plaster Sickety! Whut is you got in yo' mouf?"

"I's nibblin' a few crumbs of terbacker, honey," Plaster said
apologetically.

"My gawsh! You aim to tell me dat you _chaws_?"

"Yes'm. I chaws a little bit now an' den. It kinder helps my brains to
think an' sottles my stomick."

There was a long silence. Plaster stared straight ahead of him, his
jaws moving with the regularity of a ruminant cow, his eyes counting
the leaves on the trees, the pickets on the broken-down fence, and
estimating the number of ants crawling out of a hill. Then,
unconsciously, he reached into his pocket for another cigarette.
He did not find it.

He heard a suspicious sound beside him and looked at Pearline.

"Whut you cryin' about honey?"

"You tole me you loved me more dan cigareets, an' yit you cain't set by
me a minute 'thout chawin' terbacker," she wailed. "You is blood kin
brudder to a worm an' a goat--nothin' else chaws!"

"Lawd!" Plaster sighed in desperation. "I sees now dat I'm got to learn
how to suck eggs an' hide de shells."

Suddenly a loud whoop was heard near at hand and out of the swamp came
Vinegar Atts, Figger Bush, Mustard Prophet and Hitch Diamond.

"Hey, niggers!" Plaster bawled. "Come up an' set down. Lawd, I nefer wus
so glad to see nobody in my whole life."

"Good mawnin', Sister Pearline!" Vinegar chuckled. "How is yo'-alls
enjoyin' mattermony life by now?"

"Fine," the bride smiled, with a suspicion of tears still in her eyes.

"Praise de Lawd!" exclaimed Vinegar. "I wus skeart you niggers would be
fightin' by now, an' mebbe one of yous would be draggin' de yuther on de
end o' dat chain--dead!"

"Naw, suh!" Plaster howled, as he snatched a cigar out of Hitch
Diamond's pocket and stuck it in his mouth. "Us is gittin' along
puffeckly."

Plaster snatched his cigar from his lips with his manacled hand and
flourished it with a motion of broad contentment