The Mule-Bone

Lindsay, you ain’t been able to run since de big bell rung. Look at dat gray beard. Lindsay Thank God, I ain’t gray all over. I’m just as good a man right now as any of you young ’uns. He hurries on into the store. Walter Daisy, where’s yo’ two bodyguards? It don’t look natural to see you thout nary one of ’em. Daisy Archly. I ain’t got no bodyguards. I don’t know what you talkin’ about. Lige Aw, don’ try to come dat over us, Daisy. You know who we talkin’ ’bout all right⁠ ⁠… but if you want me to come out flat-footed⁠ ⁠… where’s Jim and Dave? Daisy Ain’t they playin’ somewhere for de white folks? Lige To Walter. Will you listen at dis gal, Walter? To Daisy. When I ain’t been long seen you and Dave going down to de Lake. Daisy Frightened. Don’t y’all run tell mama where I been. Walter Well, you tell us which one you laks de best and we’ll wipe our mouf gesture and say nothin’. Dem boys been de best of friends all they life, till both of ’em took after you⁠ ⁠… then goodbye, Katy bar de door! Daisy Affected innocence. Ain’t they still playin’ and dancin’ together? Lige Yeah, but that’s ’bout all they do ’gree on these days. That’s de way it is wid men, young and old.⁠ ⁠… I don’t keer how long they been friends and how thick they been⁠ ⁠… a woman kin come between ’em. David and Jonather never would have been friends so long if Jonather had of been any great hand wid de wimmen. You ain’t never seen no two roosters that likes one another. Daisy I ain’t tried to break ’em up. Walter Course you ain’t. You don’t have to. All two boys need to do is to git stuck on de same girl and they done broke up⁠ ⁠… right now! Wimmen is something can’t be divided equal. Re-enter Joe Lindsay and Clark with the groceries. Daisy jumps up and grabs the packages. Lige To Daisy. Want some of us⁠ ⁠… me⁠ ⁠… to go long and tote yo’ things for you? Daisy Nervously. Naw, mama is riding her high horse today. Long as I been gone it wouldn’t do for me to come walking up wid nobody. She exits hurriedly right. All the men watch her out of sight in silence. Clark Sighing. I God, know whut Daisy puts me in de mind of? Hambo No, what? They all lean together. Clark I God, a great big mango⁠ ⁠… a sweet smell, you know, with a strong flavor, but not something you could mash up like a strawberry. Something with a body to it. General laughter, but not obscene. Hambo Admiringly. Joe Clark! I didn’t know you had it in you! Mrs. Clark enters from store door and they all straighten up guiltily. Clark Angrily to his wife. Now whut do you want? I God, the minute I set down, here you come.⁠ ⁠… Mrs. Clark Somebody want a stamp, Jody. You know you don’t ’low me to bove wid de post office. He rises sullenly and goes inside the store. Brazzle Say, Hambo, I didn’t see you at our Sunday School picnic. Hambo Slicing some plug-cut tobacco. Nope, wan’t there dis time. Walter Looka here, Hambo. Y’all Baptist carry dis close-communion business too far. If a person ain’t half drownded in de lake and half et up by alligators, y’all think he ain’t baptized, so you can’t take communion wid him. Now I reckon you can’t even drink lemonade and eat chicken perlow wid us. Hambo My Lord, boy, youse just full of words. Now, in de first place, if this year’s picnic was lak de one y’all had last year⁠ ⁠… you ain’t had no lemonade for us Baptists to turn down. You had a big ole barrel of rain water wid about a pound of sugar in it and one lemon cut up over de top of it. Lige Man, you sho kin mold ’em! Walter Well, I went to de Baptist picnic wid my mouf all set to eat chicken, when lo and behold y’all had chitlings! Do Jesus! Lindsay Hold on there a minute. There was plenty chicken at dat picnic, which I do know is right. Walter Only chicken I seen was half a chicken yo’ pastor musta tried to swaller whole cause he was choked stiff as a board when I come long⁠ ⁠… wid de whole deacon’s board beating him in de back, trying to knock it out his throat. Lige

Say, dat puts me in de mind of a Baptist brother that was crazy ’bout de preachers and de preacher was crazy ’bout feeding his face. So his son got tired of trying to beat dese stump-knockers to de grub on the table, so one day he throwed out some slams ’bout dese preachers. Dat made his old man mad, so he tole his son to git out. He boy ast him “Where must I go, papa?” He says, “Go on to hell I reckon⁠ ⁠… I don’t keer where you go.”

So de boy left and was gone seven years. He come back one cold, windy night and rapped on de door. “Who dat?” de old man ast him. “It’s me, Jack.” De old man opened de door, so glad to see his son agin, and tole Jack to come in. He did and looked all round de place. Seven or eight preachers was sitting round de fire eatin’ and drinkin’.

“Where you been all dis time, Jack?” de old man ast him.

“I been to hell,” Jack tole him.

“Tell us how it is down there, Jack.”

“Well,” he says, “It’s just like it is here⁠ ⁠… you cain’t git to de fire for de preachers.”

Hambo Boy, you kin lie just like de crossties from Jacksonville to Key West. De presidin’ elder must come round on his circuit teaching y’all how to tell ’em, cause you couldn’t lie dat good just natural. Walter Can’t nobody beat Baptist folks lying⁠ ⁠… and I ain’t never