"Lan's sake'--what ails yo'--Slab?" she interrogated.
The sound of her voice seemed to fuse some combustible deposit of exultation cached within him. Instantly he began leaping up and down in a most frantic and alarming manner, yelling in loud outbursts, causing the girl mentally to question his sanity.
"I tol' ye so--I tol' ye so--I tol' ye so----"
"Halliluja'--halliluja'----" he answered, keeping time with a grotesque dance.
"Slab--have yo' gone plum offin' yore haid?"
Belle-Ann watched his antics curiously. Presently he ceased this puzzling exposition as abruptly as he had startled her, and advanced, smearing the sweat over his seamed face with one gnarled hand, and she noticed that he kept the other hand concealed behind his back. His unique plaudits having subsided, he stood before her. He screwed his head around and looked furtively about, his sable features now drawn into a visage of deep and profound solemnity. He spoke in low, mysterious accents.
"Lil'le gal," he began softly, "lil'le gal,--sompin' hev drap--some mammon hev drap--some mammon, lil'le gal--drap plunk inter de ole man's han's. I got sompin' heah ter show yo'-all,--sompin' whut makes dis ole man nigh bus' wif gratatudness an' praise fo' de good Lo'd,--no--no--now yo' jest wait, honey--Slab'll show yo'--I mos' bus' when dis mammon drap down ter de ole man--drap down ter Slab, lil'le gal,--jest like olen times when de good Lo'd drap mammon down ter his starvin' chillens--de good Lo'd do sho' love dis ole niggah man, same ez he do good white folks. Belle-Ann--fo' seben nights Slab, he pray jes' ez hard--he pray de good Lo'd fo' wharwithal ter buy some flannel shirts wif. I done pray fo' seben nights, lil'le gal--den las' night, er big ole owl he sot on dat sycamore, an' he call me outen ma sleep--den I snuck down dar by dat wagon-bed, an' I wait, an' when Mr. Owl say 'hoo-ho' I say 'hoo-hoo' back--den when owl say 'hoo-ho' seben times, he goed away--Slab, he know zacly what dat mean--den I look roun' an' fine er lil'le bitty obeah-stone, an' lay it on de wagon-bed. Den dis morn'n' 'fore I goed ter de mill, I tuk er peek--but de obeah-stone war jes' zacly whar I lay him--den on ma way back jes' now, I tuk er nudder peek--obeah wus goed away. Den I look all roun' an' ma eyes see sompin' layin' clost up ter de wagon-bed--den ma han' reches down an' picks it up--an', lil'le gal, I mos' bus' wif happiness--whut yo' think I pluck, lil'le gal?--looky--looky--jes' look at dat bull, feedin' on dat green."
