When he
recognized them, he burst into such a roar of laughter that it
caused all the other passengers to turn around and look in their
direction.
"What y' all gwine to do nex' I jes' wonder," he exclaimed.
"Yo' ekals ain't made dis side o' 'ternity. Lordee, Lordee,"
he gazed at them admiringly, "you sho' is genoowine corn-fed,
sterlin' silver, all-woolan'-a-yard-wide, pure-leaf, Green-River
Lollapaloosas. Does yo' folks know 'bout yer? Lordee! What I
axin' sech a fool question fer? 'Course dey don't. Come on, I
gwine to take y' all off 'n dese cars right here at dis
Woodstock, an' we kin ketch de 'commodation back home."
"But Sam," protested Billy, "We don't want to go back home.
We wants to go to Memphis."
"Hit don't matter what y' all wants," was the negro's reply,
"y' all gotta git right off. Dis-here 'scursion train don't
leave Memphis twell twelve o'clock tonight an' yuh see how
slow she am runnin', and ev'y no 'count nigger on her'll be
full o' red eye.
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