" He stood up,
filling the doorway with his bulk. "I can tell you-all a story
about this here house," he said, addressing himself to the
children. He smiled happily. "You-all don't need to look so
solemn, a body ain't going to snap at you! This house are the
old Blount cabin, but the Blounts done moved away from it years
and years ago. They're down Fayetteville way now. There was a
passel of 'em and they was about as common a lot of white folks
as you'd find anywhere; I know, because I come to a dance here
once and Dave Blount called me a liar right in this very room."
He paused, that this impressive fact might disseminate itself.
Hannibal slid forward in his seat, his earnest little face bent
on Yancy.
"Why did he call you a liar, Uncle Bob?" he demanded.
"Well, I scarcely know, Nevvy, but that's what he done, and he
stuck some words in front of it that ain't fitten I should
repeat."
Miss Malroy's cheeks had become very red, and Mrs. Ferris refused
to meet her eye, while the children were in a flutter of pleased
expectancy. They felt the wholly contemporary interest of
Yancy's story; he was dealing with forms of speech which
prevailed and were usually provocative of consequences more or
less serious. He gave them a wide, sunny smile.
"When Dave Blount called me that, I struck out fo' home." At
this surprising turn in the narrative the children looked their
disgust, and Mrs. Ferris shot Betty a triumphant glance. "Yes,
ma'am, I struck out across the fields fo' home, I didn't wish to
hear no mo' of that loose kind of talk.
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