Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 130: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

120 sand with the vehemence of his growing admiration. ‘‘ Somehow, there’s jes’ some- thing *bout a certain kin’ of woman—” He clapped his small companion on the shoul- der with a sudden zest that sent the scarlet skull cap flying. Sliver coughed and gasped for words. Sassafras rattled on. ‘“Slivah, sonny—uh-uuh! I ‘mits Ise got me a gal back home, but I doan mind tellin’ you Ise turruble tempted to make ma’iage wid that gol’ hat woman yondah! Co’se, now, I'll keep you roun’ to run mah errants an’ to buil’ mah fiahs—sho’ ‘nuff, pa’dnah, I ain’t playin’ wid you!” He turned his hungry eyes to the beach. It was a gay parade that passed before him—a strutting, giggling, chattering throng —the sun’s rays flashing on the gaudy bon- nets. Conspicuous among the lot was the gorgeous goldcloth turban. “ Hot damn!” The seaman’s animation grew apace. ‘‘ Mos’ sportiest one in the whole sheboodle? Ise done decided. Sli- vah, sonny, s’pose you goes an’ ‘terpretates mah proposition to the lady? Tell her I offers to clasp her han’ in ma’iage—doan go pullin’ none of this heah ‘ Speak fo’ your- se’f, Jawn,’ foolishness lak I read about in mah schoolhouse readah! Run ’long, now. I ’waits her answah ri’ ovah yondah in yo’ bachelor qua’tahs.” VI. THE grinning Sliver started on his way, but the first huge raindrops of a tropic shower spattered on his naked shoulders. Sassafras caught his arm. ‘‘ N’mind, now. Us waits till the storm blows ovah! ‘ Marry in the rain—life full of pain,’ lak the sayin’ is. 2) A low-hung stend shut out the sunlight and the shower broke upon them. Sassa- fras scurried for the shelter of the hut. Sliver followed. Squatting in the door- way the two men gazed out upon a dismal vista. But the women had not left the beach. Absorbed in their eager demonstra- tion, they were heedless of such trifles as a tropic shower. They entirely ignored the downpour. A few men had left off logging and strolled over to stare wide-eyed with unmasked admiration. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘“°Fo’ Gawd, Slivah, ain’t them wimmin got sense enough to take their mill’nery in out the rain?” Sassafras squirmed uneas- ily. ‘‘ Look-a-yondah, sonny—that feathah thing’s done ruint a’ready! Uh-uuh! Yon- dah go anothah—purple color runnin’ down her back lak she was a Injun! ‘Run out an’ tell ’em, buddy—you ain’t got no creases down yo’ trousers lak I is— run out an’ ’splain. ‘This rain’s goin’ to ruin ev’ythinge—” Sassafras choked. ‘ Lan’ sakes, look at that raid hat—all droopin’ down lak a settin’ hen what’s been ducked in a rain barrel! You know, Slivah, some- how I feels lak I oughta be on boa’d mah ship!” As the force of the rain increased the women worked themselves into a state of great excitement. Deaf ears were turned to Sliver’s pleadings, and they glared into one another’s faces and saw the havoc that the rain had wrought. A panic seized them. They began to mill like frightened cattle, screeching, moaning, wailing and threaten- ing a stampede. ‘Sliver returned to the hut, drenched and defeated. Sassafras shook a doleful head. ““¥ ’clares I sho’ hates to get mahse’f all messed ‘up jes’ ’cause a passel of fool wim- min ain’t got sense enough to come in out the rain! Slivah, sonny—” A shrill voice rent the air. A woman confronted them at the doorway. It was she of much weight in the community— sponsor for the women in the original ac- ceptance of Sassafras’s offer. In one hand she clutched a faded, shapeless bonnet. She shrieked again, threw the hat upon the ground and stamped upon it. Her cries in- creased as she swung into a wild dance, pausing at intervals to shake her fists and hurl abuses at the two men in the shelter. Sassafras gulped. The little Sliver groaned. ** What the woman sayin’, pa’dnah?”’ the seaman asked. ‘‘ N’mind, you doan have to translate no sich lan’wich!” Around and around swept the frenzied dancer, her eyes grown strangely glassy, her wet face blotched with coloring. Oth- ers joined the mélée until the sandy clearing before the hut was a howling, delirious sea of wild gyrations. The tropic rain beat EOMIGooOOo SH (S@)