UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
LILY 
 
BOOKS BY HUGH WILEY 
 JADE, and Other Stories 
 LADY LUCK 
 THE WILDCAT 
 LILY 
 
LILY 
 
 By HUGH WILEY 
 
 NEW YORK 
 ALFRED A KNOPF 
 
 1922 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY 
 ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. 
 
 Published, October, 192:8 
 
 Bet up, electrotypes, and printed by t\t Tail-Ballou Co., Bino*amton, If. 7. 
 
 Paper furnished by W. F. Ether ing ton & Co., New York. 
 
 Bound lv H. Wolff Estate, New York. 
 
 MANUFACTURED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
TO 
 GEORGE HORACE LORIMER 
 
LILY 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 "Lookin* ahead you kaint depend 
 On whut's waitin', 
 Mebbe Heaven lays roun' de bend, 
 Mebbe Hell an' Satan." 
 
 TO the Wildcat in San Francisco the 
 world and all things therein were 
 middlin' good. The scheme of life was 
 benevolent. Old Man Trouble appeared on 
 the scene often enough to supply a black back 
 ground for the noble radiance of Lady Luck's 
 smile, but with two days balanced on the knife- 
 edge of midnight the Wildcat figgered that the 
 griefs of yesterday would be offset by the joys 
 of to-morrow. 
 
 At the eleventh hour Lady Luck had smiled 
 and then her smile had turned to laughter and 
 part of the record of her favor lay in crumpled 
 banknotes in the inside pocket of the Wildcat's 
 yaller striped vest. 'He had no coat, for the 
 coat had been a gaudy affair adorned with the 
 insignia of the Temple of Luck, and he had 
 
 9 
 
10 LILY 
 
 sluffed this along with the cares of yesterday 
 when he came aboard the New Orleans bound 
 Empire with his mascot goat. 
 
 Down in the basement of the ol' iron boat 
 the Wildcat leaned comfortably against a 
 stanchion and watched Lily eat the last few 
 fragments of a wide yellow sash which had gone 
 with the office of Soopreem Leader of the Temple 
 of Luck. He leaned heavily for a while, and 
 then, surrendering to gravity and to a natural 
 instinct, he sogged down comfortably with his 
 back against the iron post and did the best he 
 could to rest himself loose from the sediment of 
 official care which had infested the day that was 
 past. 
 
 "Goat, lay off dem yaller tassels. Fust thing 
 you knows you gits yo' stummick all braided up 
 wid gol' an' silver wire. All right fo' clouds 
 to have a silver lining goats is different. 
 'Spec' did you have yo' own way you nutrines 
 yo' insides so heavy wid such truck dat you 
 kaint walk de gang plank when us gits to 
 Memphis whah oP Cap'n Jack is waitin'." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily replied, and in her answer 
 was a protest against the Wildcat's supervision 
 of her menu. In the first place the tassels were 
 gratifying to the throat and ate easily, and in the 
 
LILY 11 
 
 second there was a satisfying flavor of shellac 
 attached to the soopreem insignia. By the time 
 the Wildcat had completed his oration nothing 
 remained of the two pompous tassels except a 
 small wooden button about the size of an after- 
 dinner mint. On this confection Lily nibbled 
 delicately with her front teeth. 
 
 The Wildcat looked down and saw that his 
 words had been unheeded. "All right, goat, 
 it's yo j pussonal stummick, load it wid pig 
 iron does you crave to, but remembeh, you gits 
 no sympathy when de belly ache konkers you." 
 
 A sudden memory of the good fortune that 
 Lady Luck had showered down filled the Wild 
 cat with charity toward his erring mascot and 
 he reached in his pocket and hauled out a long 
 cigar. He broke the cigar in two and held the 
 long end toward Lily. "Heah you is, goat. 
 Finish yo' banquet whilst I sees kin I sleep my 
 self dreamless J til de oP boat man gits heah." 
 
 While Lily munched thoughtfully on the 
 shredded cigar the Wildcat curled himself up 
 on the steel deck with his head propped between 
 two sheltering angles of the stanchion and sailed 
 away, three seconds later, into a placid estuary 
 of the tranquil sea that lies beyond the troubled 
 waters of life's realities. 
 
12 LILY 
 
 "I don't botheh work, work don't botheh me, 
 I'se fo' times as happy as a bumble bee 
 Eats when I kin git it, sleeps mos' all de time, 
 I don't give a doggone if de sun don't neveh shine. 
 
 "I kin ride a steamboat, I don't pay no fare, 
 
 I kin ride a steamboat anywhere 
 
 Dat's de reason I'se as happy as a bee, 
 
 Me an* Lily's Memphis bound, Memphis, Ten-o-see." 
 
 For an hour the Wilddat slept. A velvet 
 footed bootlegger, prowling through the shipi 
 with a rush order for one of the engineers on 
 duty at that hour, passed the sleeping figure and 
 accorded him an intent look. With his pro 
 fessional duty accomplished for the moment the 
 bootlegging person retraced his steps and when 
 he came again to the sleeping Wildcat he halted 
 long enough to sweep the recumbent figure with 
 a fan of light from the end of an electric torch. 
 The Wildcat mumbled in his sleep when the 
 light fell upon his face. "Eats when I kin git 
 it, sleeps mos' all de time " 
 
 In the dark the bootlegger stooped over and un 
 fastened the three upper buttons of the Wild 
 cat's vest. "Sure handy for me that you do." 
 
 The bootlegger's hand came back from the 
 vicinity of the Wildcat's left-hand pocket clutch 
 ing a moist roll of greenbacks. Five seconds 
 
LILY 13 
 
 later the Wildcat's right-hand pocket had been 
 relieved of its contents, and then with the cash 
 prize safely in his possession the agent of OP 
 Man Trouble fled noiselessly along the steel 
 deck until he came to a companion-way up which 
 he escaped. 
 
 This was new stuff to the mascot goat. It 
 seemed to Lily that perhaps the business of ab 
 stracting green slips of paper from her master's 
 inside pocket might be right and regular, and 
 then it occurred to her that perhaps the Wildcat 
 would be interested in the process. She bleated 
 faintly once or twice in an effort to awaken her 
 master and failing in this she lowered her head 
 and rammed him once heartily in the vicinity 
 of his hip pocket. 
 
 "Blaa-a! Wake up!" 
 
 "Goat, lay off me! What you mean 
 bustin' mah sleep in two. Fo' two bits I'd sell 
 you to some farm boy whah you could kill yo'se'f 
 
 eatin'." 
 
 The mention of the two bits reminded the 
 Wildcat of the ponderous fortune which Lady 
 Luck had showered upon him. Mechanically 
 his right hand sought the pockets of his vest 
 which had so lately bulged with currency. 
 
 "Lawd gawd! How come! Lemme see. 
 
14 LILY 
 
 Wuz I dreamin' money no suh ! Dat wuz real. 
 Had me dem greenbacks. Heah I is wid no 
 more cash dan a vet 7 ran has bonus. Somebody 
 
 met me." 
 
 He looked around him in the half light. For 
 a moment he was on the point of raising an 
 alarm and then, realizing the futility of such 
 a course, he succumbed to the poor consolation 
 of singeing Lady Luck's tail feathers with enough 
 red hot language to melt the north pole. 
 
 "Leave me meet dat woman! Dat's all I 
 craves. Heah us is 'cept fo' de shoe five, plum' 
 bust! No mo' cash dan a fish has feet. . . 
 Wish oP Cap'n Jack was wid me." 
 
 It took all of five minutes for the old-time 
 philosophy to rise superior to his misfortune* 
 "Easy come, easy go. Neveh seed no easy money 
 yet whut wuz mixed wid glue. No money neveh 
 sticks 'less you mixes it wid sweat. Kaint do 
 no prancin' now when us gits to Memphis. 
 Aimed to prance some befo' I settles down wid 
 ol' Cap'n Jack. Dis means us does de askin* 
 'stead of de tellin' dat's all." He looked down 
 at his mascot goat. "Goat, who eveh tol' you 
 you is a kin to luck*? 'Cept in' I might need you 
 fo' eatin' purposes I barbecues you right now 
 and scatters you to de fish, Don't tell me you 
 
LILY 15 
 
 brings luck, you is plain hoodoo. OP Man 
 .Trouble is yo' pussonal pappy." 
 
 Thereafter for ten minutes the Wildcat sogged 
 down in a crumpled heap on the deck and nursed 
 his grief. "Doggone dis money bizness, money 
 ain't nuthin' 'less you spends it. Jes' havin' 
 money don't mean no mo' dan havin' a race horse 
 wid a busted laig, 'less you races him 
 he ain't no race horse. 'Less you spends yo' 
 money when you gits it it ain't money no mo' dan 
 a egg is fried chicken. . . . Lady Luck, heah us is. 
 I craves me one redeemin' slug of strengthenin' 
 gin. I feels low." 
 
 Forthwith, slowly and painfully, with his bat 
 tered philosophy heaving under the dead weight 
 of the recent financial calamity, the Wildcat 
 struggled to his feet. Leading Lily, he began 
 a prowl in search of alcoholic optimism. He 
 wandered forward, stepping high over the sills 
 of two bulkheads, until he came to the crew's 
 quarters. Here, about one end of a long table, 
 were gathered six poker-playing members of the 
 Dog Watch. The Wildcat knew enough about 
 poker to delay his interruption until the last hand 
 of the deal was revealed. When this had been 
 accomplished he voiced his plaint. He aimed 
 it in the general direction of the game but he 
 
16 LILY 
 
 addressed no one in particular : "Cap'n suh, could 
 yo' all tell me whah us could 'cumulate a slug 
 o' likker?' 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "The misery is trompHn' me. Us craves mebbe 
 two slugs o' gin to help us live till de sun 
 shines." 
 
 "All the white mule you want at two bits a 
 slug right across from the pier where we are 
 tied up." 
 
 "You mean dat Happy Home place 4 ?" 
 
 "That's it. Get all you want there unless 
 the raiding squad has made its evening visit." 
 
 The Wildcat resolved to take a chance on -the 
 police. He mounted the steel stairway with 
 Lily leaping behind him, and in the shadows of 
 the long interior of the pier against which the 
 Empire lay he made his way toward his goal. 
 Midway of the pier he stopped and from a 
 recess in his shoe he fished the lone fragment of 
 the night's accumulation of cash, a five-dollar 
 bill, stored there with an instinct derived from 
 long years of experience with the whims of Lady 
 Luck. With the currency clenched in his hand 
 he trotted across the wide cobbled area of the 
 Embarcadero. With Lily at his heels, he headed 
 for the bright lights above which hung the name 
 
 
LILY 17 
 
 plate of the New Home institution where cigars, 
 cigarettes, coffee and soft drinks could be dis 
 dained by those who were able to overcome the 
 bartender's denial of illicit possessions. 
 
 In the Happy Home, weaving under the cor 
 rugated reflectors that threw back the light from 
 the red incandescents, was a dancing group of 
 men and women of the Wildcat's color. On a 
 platform facing the bar a four-piece orchestra, 
 led by a slip-horn artist, crooned a rhythm whose 
 intermittent reverberations were scarcely audible 
 outside of the walls of the building. In his de 
 mands the Wildcat modulated his voice until it 
 approximated the tones of the whispering orches 
 tra. "Us craves gin. I'se a Memphis boy sailin* 
 on de Empire. Craves gin bad, ben hit heavy 
 wid grief." 
 
 The proprietor of the place, serving behind 
 the bar, gave the Wildcat a long look, and then, 
 without the preliminary motion of uncorking a 
 bottle and pouring a drink therefrom being visible 
 above the bar except in a slight undulation of 
 the shoulder muscles of his right arm, he set a 
 glass in front of the Wildcat. The glass was an 
 ordinary tumbler and it was filled nearly to the 
 brim with a clear white liquid. "Four bits." 
 
 The Wildcat flicked the five-dollar bill across 
 
 \ 
 
18 LILY 
 
 the bar in response to the demand and almost 
 before the greenback had quit sliding the cargo 
 of cheering liquor had splashed its way down to 
 the cheer-craver's equator. 
 
 The Wildcat batted his eyes five times in suc 
 cession and then squinted them in an ecstasy of 
 doubt which endured for five seconds. Then on 
 his face bloomed a wide smile studded with glit 
 tering teeth. 
 
 "Hot dam! Sho' noble likker, Shoot de otheh 
 barrel." 
 
 The second barrel of the gin gun was fired and 
 another fifty-cent piece nestled in the cash register 
 of the Happy Home. 
 
 The Wildcat looked around him and his eyes 
 fell on the trombone player who at the moment 
 was reaching almost to the ceiling for a low note. 
 "Lawd gawd, look at dat agile boy reapin' de 
 rags. Lily, as you is, whilst I sees does mah feet 
 track." 
 
 The Wildcat stepped a pace from the bar and 
 led his feet down a dog-walk lane until he was 
 satisfied as to their tracking abilities. "Dey 
 remembers whut I learned 'em. Wish dese dawg- 
 gone shoes was soft, I might unkink a step." 
 
 He turned again to the bar and another fifty- 
 
LILY 19 
 
 cent piece clicked its message to the proprietor 
 of the Happy Home. The Wildcat straightened 
 to his full height to give his third drink a clear 
 track. "Whuff ! Lady Luck, I hears you singin' 
 soft an' low. Three strikes an' out fo' OF Man 
 Trouble. Sho' is noble likker." He turned to 
 the bartender. "Whut name does it go by?" 
 "Dat's plain mule, plain white mule." 
 By the time the Wildcat had purchased an 
 other span of plain white mules the ceiling lights 
 were glowing crimson and the laughing trombone 
 was a mile away. When the last fragment of 
 the five-dollar bill had been spent the Wildcat 
 was suddenly engulfed in a tidal wave sprinkled 
 with earthquakes. With the mascot goat be 
 side him he reclined on a chair in the corner of 
 the room. For a while he watched the undulat 
 ing procession of weaving contortionists passing 
 in review before him and then, with his lower 
 jaw sagging something less than a foot, he was 
 asleep and a million miles away from the slings 
 and arrows with which OP Man Trouble chas 
 tised the favorite of Lady Luck whenever he got 
 a chance. 
 
 Midway of the Wildcat's dreaming it seemed 
 to him that the laughing trombone indulged in 
 
20 LILY 
 
 a raucous note. Subconsciously he wondered 
 "How come the easy playin' slip-horn boy so 
 loud." 
 
 It was not the trombone however which had 
 boomed the heavy note into the dawn, but the 
 clearing signal from the siren of the New Orleans 
 bound Empire. 
 
 When the Wildcat awakened the ship that 
 would have carried him to New Orleans on the 
 first leg of his journey back to Captain Jack was 
 fifty miles clear of the Golden Gate. 
 
 "Lady Luck, heah us is. Whuff ! Sho' craves 
 me some cold drinkin' wateh. Come 'long, Lily. 
 I feels blazin' inside." 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THROUGH the long morning hours the 
 Wildcat plodded his way toward Lincoln 
 Park where, from experience born of the 
 immediate past, he knew that golf-shooting gentle 
 men provided silver enough, in return for caddy 
 service, to enable a boy to eat. 
 
 "Come 'long, Lily, us craves rations. De only 
 way you gits nutrified in dis town is wid money. 
 Us lugs a li'l bag 'roun' an' roun' fo' de white 
 folks an' gits a doll ah, den us eats heavy. Seems 
 like I ain't et fo' de longest time." 
 
 The enterprise was successful and in the early 
 evening the Wildcat, in possession of a dollar, 
 sought to smother his troubles in a ration-gorg 
 ing contest at a table in a Sutter Street restaurant 
 much frequented by members of his race. 
 
 Some craves possum, some craves ham, 
 Pusson'lly I don't give a damn, 
 Jes' so it's nllin' 'at's all I care, 
 Catfish, rabbit, cinnamon bear. 
 21 
 
22 LILY 
 
 Ain't no leavin's when I feeds, 
 Stummick an' appetite's all I needs. 
 Lemme eat till I eats my fill 
 Long as I kin pay de bill. 
 Gimme room an' start me fust, 
 I'll be eatin' when de otheh boy's bust. 
 
 Across the table from the Wildcat, full to the 
 neck and treading water until his grub-gorging 
 acquaintance might bust his pussonal stummick, 
 sat a new-found friend who, inspired by a little 
 streak of luck, had declared himself the Wild 
 cat's host for the evening. The friendship had 
 ripened when the Wildcat had recited a record 
 of his valorous days in the A. E. F. and after he 
 had followed it with a recital of his subsequent 
 adventures. "Dat's all, Gimlet. Heah us is, 
 waitin' fo' Lady Luck to rally 'round." 
 
 The Wildcat swept a piece of bread around 
 his plate and carried it to his munching jaws. 
 "How come folks calls you Gimlet*?" 
 
 "De boys called me dat fust becuz I wuz so 
 spindlin' built." 
 
 For the time being, as far as absorbing rations 
 was concerned, the spindling built host was only 
 a passive witness whose bulging eyes surmounted 
 a stomach bulging with food. 
 
 The Wildcat continued to eat. Gimlet, with 
 
LILY 23 
 
 the normal anxiety of a host, reached into his 
 pocket from time to time and audited his cash 
 resources. Without knowing the exact figures, 
 it appeared to Gimlet that the Wildcat was eat 
 ing pretty close to the red side of the ledger. 
 On his own money a boy had a perfect right to 
 eat the lining out of his pocketbook, but where a 
 host was introduced into the equation it seemed 
 to Gimlet that the victim of the cash register's 
 ringing knell was entitled to a little considera 
 tion. 
 
 He sought to distract the Wildcat from his 
 munching orgy with conversation. The Wildcat 
 synchronized a series of grunts to the regular mo 
 tion of his lower jaw. Beyond this concession 
 no evidence was available to prove that the Wild 
 cat's ears were functioning except as overhang 
 ing wings to steady the owner's cranium against 
 the regular impact of sixteen lower teeth. 
 
 After an hour of the innocent bystander busi 
 ness Gimlet resolved to use force. "One mo' 
 fried liveh, one mo' fish, one mo' ham wid 
 gravy, one more enything an' I busts you in 
 de haid. Mebbe you is human on de outside but 
 you sho' shows hog blood from de skin down. 
 Wilecat, befo' I kills you I tells you one mo' 
 time to quit. Den I busts you wid a chair befo' 
 
24 LILY 
 
 you gits us 'rested 'count o' me not havin' enough 
 money to pay de bill." 
 
 Bam! Gimlet's fist hit the table and his 
 voice lifted to Lily's startled bleating. "Wile- 
 cat, fo' de las' time I tells you, quit befo' I 
 quits you! Heah us is, me wid two dollahs 
 an' you wid one, an' de las' I knowed as near as 
 I could rigger you owes de restaurant boy fo' 
 fifty. Mebbe you craves to work out two dol 
 lahs in jail, not me. I tells you, quit befo' 
 dey sends fo' de police." 
 
 The Wildcat's ears wiggled a slight acknowl 
 edgment, but he continued to eat for five minutes. 
 Then, "Whuff !" and the Wildcat quit. 
 
 He blinked heavily at Gimlet. "Boy, how 
 come you gits so agitated jes' 'cause liveh an' 
 ham is so popular wid mah pussonal stummick*? 
 He fished around in his pocket and his hand 
 came out clutching a five-dollar bill. "You 
 thinks us is bust. Us ain't." 
 
 Now, across the table, Gimlet's eyes did some 
 bulging. "How come you has dis frog skin 
 money?" 
 
 "When de golf playin' man lef me he says, 
 "Wilecat, you sho' done noble workin' on de 
 golf links," and he gimme dis heah five dollah 
 present 'long wid de dollah wages. Dat's de 
 
LILY 25 
 
 reason me and Lily eats whilst you 'dulges yo' 
 neck wid words 'stead o' rations. Does a boy 
 crave to talk 'at's his bizness. I always kin 
 talk, kaint always eat. In rest' rants me an' 
 Lily eats." 
 
 The five-dollar bill reacted on Gimlet's ap 
 petite. A moment before he was sure that he 
 was fed up to the neck. Now he was equally 
 positive that he was the victim of a famine. 
 Visions of gravy dripping from great slices of 
 ham half concealed by three or four splattered 
 eggs came to his mind. His imagination leaped 
 up the ladder of possibilities until it touched the 
 chicken department. 
 
 "Wilecat, has you et plenty 4 ? Kaint you eat 
 jes' a li'l bit mo"?" 
 
 "I neveh has et plenty. I wuz bawn un-et an* 
 I'se been at way eveh since. I kin always eat 
 
 mo'." 
 
 
 Gimlet's memory galloped back through the 
 years of his past and fastened upon some of the 
 texts to which he had been exposed during the 
 religious revivals which were epidemic in the 
 country of his youth. From the words of the 
 fur-bearing prophets he culled a series of texts 
 to reinforce his new arguments. "Wilecat, heah 
 us is, heah to-day an' gone to-morrow. Eat 
 
26 LILY 
 
 when you kin git it, dat's my motto. What de 
 preacheh say 'bout howsomeveh a man standeth 
 wid his foot on de banana peel an 7 great is de 
 fall thereof no tellin' jes' whut minute sump- 
 thin' happen to you. I claims whilst us has yo' 
 five dollah bill us ought to eat. How 'bout some 
 chicken?' 
 
 Gimlet had landed on the one item which 
 could promote a resumption of the Wildcat's 
 gustatory activity. "Chicken! I'll say so! 
 Chicken is de gratifyinist animal whut is. You 
 eats 'em all de time, in de egg befo' dey's bawn 
 an' afteh dey's daid." 
 
 Ten minutes later a dejected looking fowl had 
 been transported to the table. Thereafter for a 
 little while conversation ceased. Then, with his 
 back teeth full of chicken, Gimlet explored the 
 recess of his open mouth and hauled forth a wish 
 bone which had once adorned the skeletal struc 
 ture of the recent victim of the feast. "Heah's 
 de wishbone, see who gits de luck. Take dat 
 end. I keeps hold o' dis. Ready. Short man 
 wins. Pull !" 
 
 Snap! The Wildcat pulled the long end. 
 "Doggone, Lady Luck! Whah at is you 1 ?" 
 
 "You loses mi thin' but yo' luck. You got de 
 
LILY 27 
 
 chicken ain't you, an' de five dollah bill. Pay 
 de boy an' le's go." 
 
 The Wildcat stood up. "To-morrow I takes 
 you to de golf links an' mebbe us 'cumulates five 
 mo' dollahs. Den us comes back heah. Dat 
 chicken sho' was noble." 
 
 "Naw suh! Wilecat, git some otheh boy fo' 
 dat golf bizness wid dem golf playin' gemmum. 
 Sho' grieves me to leave you an' Lily but bizness 
 befo' pleasure, dat's my motto. I'se busy wid 
 mah bizness f'm now on. Gits two fo' one. 
 I'se in de chu'ch bizness. Pays betteh dan golf. 
 I tol* you 'bout de chu'ch what's been instigated 
 in Oaklan'. Las' week the yaller preacheh whut 
 started de chu'ch took up a buildin' fund. Us 
 early joiners gits two fo' one. You puts up a 
 dollah an' draws out two de month afteh. Us 
 active members contribute fifty dollahs apiece an* 
 nex' month us draws out a hund'ed." 
 
 "Whah at's de money come f'm to pay you?" 
 
 "Boy sells some mo' stock in de chu'ch." 
 
 "You sounds like a fool." 
 
 "Mebbe I is. I banks on de preacheh. OP 
 head boy acts like he knows whut he's doin'. 
 He's paid high as ten- to-one on some o' de chu'ches 
 he started in Tennessee." 
 
28 LILY 
 
 "Whut part o' Tennessee does he act like*?" 
 
 "Acts like a Memphis boy, 'ceptin' he ain't 
 so tame." 
 
 "Tall skinny boy?' 
 
 "MiddlinV 
 
 "Long black coat an' yaller shoes?" 
 
 "You knows him?" 
 
 "Slouch hat an' a big mouf full o' white folks 
 words?" 
 
 " 'At's him." 
 
 "I'll say I knows him. Gimlet, I'se got dis 
 heah goat whut I wouldn't trade fo' a million 
 dollahs, but I bets Lily dat de head o' yo' bizness 
 is dat upliftin' Honeytone Boone. Seems like 
 whah at I goes dat boy's on mah trail. Fust I 
 meets up wid him in France whah us boys in 
 de Fust Service Battalion got exposed to his 
 preachin' up to de time me an' de Backslid 
 Baptis' cleaned him wid de bones. Den he 
 comes back to Memphis an' got himself 'gaged 
 to marry Miss Cuspidora Lee. He played dat 
 way till he meets up wid his wife. Las' I 
 knowed he was headed fo' jail afteh leavin' me 
 wid de Temple of Luck on mah hands. 'At 
 sho' is Honeytone. You betteh bid yo' money 
 goodbye. Chances is he lef' Oakland de same 
 day you boys donates." 
 
LILY 29 
 
 "Wilecat, I starts afteh dat boy now. I knows 
 whah at I kin locate him. When I meets up 
 wid him I barbecues him. Mebbe I don't cut 
 him up complete but anyway I carves mah fifty 
 dollahs' wuth of meat loose f'm his carcass. 
 Nex' time I sees you, Wilecat, I has mah fifty 
 dollahs or else fo' pounds o' steak whut I carves 
 off f'm dat Honey tone nigger." 
 
 I heah you grieve, I heah you sigh 
 You spent yo' money wild an' free 
 You betteh leave. Bid me goodbye, 
 You ain't spent none on me. 
 Be on yo' way jes' say farewell 
 Ramble, 'cause I'se locked de door. 
 You blew yo' pay now go to hell, 
 An' don't come back no more. 
 
 (Miss Cuspidora Lee to Honey tone.) 
 
 Honeytone Boone headed west from Memphis 
 at a rate which kept him one state ahead of his 
 reputation and landed him finally in Oakland. 
 En route, with the ease of a skin-sluffing snake, 
 he changed his name wherever, for the moment, 
 he might be located. 
 
 Arrived on the Pacific Coast, festooned in a 
 Prince Albert coat and all of the external para- 
 
30 LILY 
 
 phernalia of a brunet soul-snatcher, he drifted 
 to a distant corner of Oakland in search of a 
 congregation upon whom he might shower the up 
 lifting influence of his pay-as-you-enterprise. 
 
 On the week following Honeytone's arrival, 
 when the political leaders of the Bourbon Party 
 were wrestling with the problem of selecting 
 some champion in whose hands the destiny of 
 the state might be placed, one of their scouts dis 
 covered Honeytone perspiring copiously and 
 lecturing an improvised religion into the quiver 
 ing ears of a hypnotized brunet congregation. 
 The political scout, out for whatever brunet 
 votes might be swung from the Old Line, ap 
 proached Honeytone at the close of his sermon. 
 "Mister speaker, what's your politics?" 
 
 Honeytone, flattered, launched into an elabo 
 rate statement of his political philosophy. Start 
 ing with life, liberty and the pursuit of happen 
 ings, he rambled through an incoherent recital 
 of the vocabulary which he had absorbed at the 
 college where he traded common sense for a 
 superficial education. 
 
 Midway of his discourse the politician inter 
 rupted him. "You've got some influence with 
 these fellows in your church here. Stand up and 
 
LILY 31 
 
 preach a line of our policies into them and you 
 get twenty dollars a day for it." 
 
 Honeytone would have preached anything 
 for twenty dollars a day. He immediately ne 
 gotiated a verbal contract for two days' cash in 
 advance. Thereafter his several audiences which 
 had rallied for a shot of fire-proof religion went 
 away carrying some of the political complexities 
 of Honeytone's heated intellect. 
 
 On the third night he warmed up to his sub 
 ject and polished up his list of stock phrases, 
 and with the song of his words hypnotizing the 
 ears of another politician, Honeytone's vocab 
 ulary won a home. The scout filed his report 
 with the Committee on Orators and Honeytone 
 was summoned to a larger field of effort in San 
 Francisco. 
 
 Addressing his new congregation, on the day 
 following Gimlet's departure in search of four 
 pounds of the meat of revenge, Honeytone en 
 gaged himself in putting his vocal organs over 
 the water-jump in the interest of the political 
 party which had hired him. Meanwhile, just 
 above his galloping tongue, his bump of self- 
 importance enlarged under the clattering impact 
 of his own voice. At the conclusion of his mental 
 
32 LILY 
 
 flight the mantle of self-satisfaction settled com 
 fortably about his shoulders. With the pur 
 chased applause that reached his ears came the 
 pride which goeth before a fall. 
 
 3 
 
 How come you leave me, Honeytone? 
 Ain't de money I craves it's you. 
 Tell me to mah face, don't telephone 
 Jes' tell me why you blew. 
 
 When I mentions dat wile boy's name 
 Tell me whah at does he roam, 
 Den tell his folks to come an' claim 
 De leavin's an' to haul 'em home. 
 
 In Oakland the meat hunting Gimlet prowled 
 around on the trail of the departed Honeytone. 
 The invariable result of Gimlet's inquiries were 
 answers to the effect that Honeytone had left 
 for unknown fields of effort wherein he might 
 practice the beneficent philosophy which, when 
 applied to the brunet portion of the human race, 
 invariably resulted in a hypnotic trance that left 
 the victim long on ideas and short on cash. At 
 a barber shop where the religious leader was 
 wont to trade a little uplifting language for an 
 occasional shave the proprietor of the establish 
 ment informed him that the soul-snatcher had de- 
 
LILY 33 
 
 parted for San Francisco. "De boy claims de 
 Bourbons crave to have him speak at a big 
 meetin' dis afternoon an 7 again to-night." 
 All de Old Line niggers in San F'mcisco meets 
 in de street 'longside de Palace Hotel whah at 
 dey hold a gran' rally whilst de white folks talks 
 it oveh in de banquet room inside de hotel. 
 Does you know Honeytone*?" 
 
 "I knows him fifty dollahs wuth whut I 'vested 
 in de new chu'ch. Palace Hotel, you say*?" 
 
 "I says. Chances is you meet up wid him 
 right now." 
 
 "Fse on mah way." 
 
 Gimlet, seeking a forced refunding of his in 
 vestment, left the barber shop and started for 
 San Francisco. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 AT three o'clock in the afternoon, on the 
 day following his first meeting with 
 Gimlet, gorged on thirty-six holes of 
 golf at Lincoln Park, the Wildcat left his two 
 golf players and decided to call it a day. 
 
 His duties ended, with Lily at his heels, he 
 retraced the length of the eighteenth fairway 
 until he came to the wooded space between the 
 eighteenth tee and the seventeenth green. Here 
 was a place to rest. Rest to the Wildcat was 
 ever welcome. He flopped down in the shade 
 of a row of cedars and for a while his eyes rested 
 on Lily who was engaged in cutting the grass 
 with her front teeth. "Go 'head, 'sorb yo' ra 
 tions while the 'sorbin' is free. Some day you 
 gits whah they ain't nuthin' but sand. Den you 
 misses dis green grass. Sho' is a noble country. 
 
 "I eats when I kin git it 
 I sleeps mos* all de time " 
 
 Presently the sunlight striking low along the 
 
 34 
 
LILY 35 
 
 ground warmed the Wildcat and sleep came to 
 him. Lily foraged for a while near her master 
 and then, in widening circles, her exploring ap 
 petite sought the greener pastures that stretched 
 to the edges of the seventeeth green. Here was 
 dessert, and for a while the mascot partook of 
 French pastry and ice cream disguised as green 
 and succulent grass. Her early mathematical 
 training was completely forgotten and for the 
 time she ate as if the lawn had length and 
 breadth but no thickness. Finally with a faint 
 bleat she sought her siesta. In the dark shadows 
 of a wooded area, lying back a little way from 
 the terrain of her foraging expedition, she pene 
 trated a growth of brush which lay in her path. 
 Then she dived into the obscurity of a space 
 about which ranged the dark trunks of a hundred 
 branching cedars. In this sanctuary the mascot 
 suffered the surprise of her life. She saw a 
 pair of phosphorescent green eyes set in a long 
 head. The eyes glowed a foot from the ground. 
 Back of the eyes, stretching its sinuous length, 
 lay a serpentine neck which bridged the gulf 
 from the head of the unknown to its massive 
 body. 
 
 Before vision and understanding had accom 
 plished in her eyes Lily gave vent to her fright. 
 
36 LILY 
 
 A hundred feet away from Her the Wildcat, 
 sleeping soundly, received on his subconscious 
 tympanum his mascot's call for help. He con 
 tinued to sleep. 
 
 In a moment Lily's eyes widened to the ob 
 scurity about her. Then she saw that from the 
 serpentine neck bulged a large irregular body 
 from which extended four ungainly legs and a 
 tail. The tail was minus hair except for a tuft 
 at its extremity. It was then that Lily thanked 
 the gods of the goat world that here before her 
 was a mule and not a nightmare. Lily knew 
 mules. Her prayer of thankfulness was uttered 
 in a series of bleats which carried to the Wild 
 cat's ears. Still the Wildcat slept. He was 
 good at sleeping. 
 
 The bleats served only to awaken a mild curi 
 osity in the phosphorescent green eyes that bulged 
 from the mule's cranium. For a week the mule 
 had enjoyed the solitude of his fastness. Here 
 was an annoying interruption. He brayed 
 loudly. "Shut up! Let a fellow rest, can't 
 you 4 ? What do you mean by coming here*?" 
 
 Lily answered him in goat language. 
 "Blaa-a! This is a public park. I've as much 
 right here as you have." 
 
 The mule shifted his position slightly in order 
 
LILY. 37 
 
 to display the official brand on a left hind leg. 
 "U. S. see that?" he brayed. "I'm a govern 
 ment mule; don't monkey with the government. 
 That U. S. means un-safe, stay clear of that 
 U. S. leg." 
 
 The mascot was on the point of voicing her 
 opinion of government mules in general and 
 army mules in particular when she was restrained 
 by a realization of the utter futility of such a 
 course. "What are you doing here if you're an 
 army mule*?" she asked. 
 
 The government mule began to explain in pat 
 ronizing brays that his presence in the rest-area 
 was none of the inquirer's blasted business. 
 Then a thought of the instability of human insti 
 tutions came to him and his tone changed to terms 
 of official courtesy. "Your inquiry will be re 
 ferred to the Bureau of Personnel." Something 
 grandiloquent and sonorous rang in the tones of 
 the government mule. He flicked his tail vio 
 lently and began to shift erasers and penholders 
 around on the desk in front of him. 
 
 Lily returned a caustic observation : "In other 
 words you don't know where you're at." 
 
 The army mule stopped switching his tail and 
 brayed a reply. Then he was silent. Action 
 became his motto. Lily scented trouble and beat 
 
38 LILY 
 
 him to it. Before the mule could launch his 
 attack she landed heavily upon that part of the 
 U. S. bray expert which was the last to get up. 
 With a bleat of triumph the mascot galloped to 
 ward the exit from the sheltering cedars. At 
 her heels, lumbering along with his impediment 
 of official dignity, followed the mule. Lily's 
 course took her directly to the protecting pres 
 ence of the Wildcat, who at the moment was 
 doing the best he could to add another million 
 dollars worth of sleep to that which had gone 
 before. 
 
 The procession, going sixty miles an hour, 
 reached the Wildcat's side. 
 
 "How come! What's de ruckus?" The Wild 
 cat sat up and batted his eyes. Lily, advancing 
 to that side of the Wildcat which was farthest 
 away from the U. S. mule, explained the situa 
 tion as best as she could with a series of staccato 
 bleats. 
 
 The mule caught sight of the Wildcat and 
 instantly changed his tactics. In spite of his 
 U. S. badge worn so proudly on his flank, he 
 realized that here before him was superior 
 authority. 
 
 The mule had come from a long line of an 
 cestors whose first principle in life was to rec- 
 
LILY 39 
 
 ognize ability when they encountered it. The 
 Wildcat on the other hand never doubted his 
 superiority over the four-legged assistants which 
 he had steered on long cruises over the broad 
 fields of the South. 
 
 "Lily, how come! Mule, ca'm yo'se'f befo' 
 I busts yo' haid off. Turn 'roun' theah." The 
 Wildcat saw the brand of government upon the 
 mule's flank. "U. S. how come you leave de 
 ahmy an' go roamin' wild*? I spec' you is 
 A. W. O. L. Comeovehheah! Stan' still, Stan' 
 still till I gits back." 
 
 The mule stood still. The Wildcat walked 
 over to a rusted wire fence and broke there 
 from a long strand of wire. By repeated twist- 
 ings and bendings he secured a ten-foot piece 
 of the wire and with this he returned to where 
 Lily was standing guard near the mule's head. 
 The Wildcat bent the piece of wire about the 
 mule's neck and picked up the loose end of it, 
 "Now you's captured, you doggone deserter. 
 Dis is de hind end of yo j furlough, I spec' de 
 ahmy's lookin' fo' you." 
 
 The Wildcat's suspicions were correct. The 
 Army was busy in a mad endeavor to recover its 
 wandering mule. Down the road in the Pre 
 sidio from whence the mule had escaped two 
 
40 LILY 
 
 weeks earlier, privates and corporals and sergeants 
 and a vast array of officers gave no small part 
 of their days to issuing orders, obeying orders, 
 passing the buck, asking questions and answer 
 ing them, and nearly all of their unusual activity 
 concerned the loss of the official mule., The 
 mule was a quartermaster-mule which had been 
 loaned, without receipt, to an artillery officer 
 who in turn had loaned him informally to an 
 engineer officer whose sergeant had permitted a 
 corporal to let a private ride him. 
 
 The mule was about to become a National 
 problem. 
 
 The only satisfactory solution of the problem 
 was at the moment walking along in surrender 
 at the end of a piece of iron fence-wire which 
 led to the clutching fingers of his captor. 
 
 The Wildcat vaguely realized that the Pre 
 sidio where the mule belonged was somewhere 
 within walking distance. Once before in his 
 West Coast career he had made the trip to the 
 Presidio starting from Market Street, and now he 
 shaped his course for Market Street, intending to 
 use that recognized landmark as a point of de 
 parture. Thus oriented he might intelligently re 
 sume his exploration toward the Presidio. 
 
 Before he had walked two blocks he had 
 
LILY 41 
 
 realized the folly of pedal exertion. "How come 
 us all walks'? Mule, stan' steady 'till us gits 
 aboard. Come heah, Lily. Dis jug-head carries 
 double else I busts him wid a club." 
 
 He boosted the mascot goat to a position on 
 the mule and made a wild leap to the mule's 
 back. A vigorous use of heels and violent lan 
 guage eliminated the mule's natural indifference 
 to progress. 
 
 It was six o'clock when the trio drifted into 
 Market Street. 
 
 The six o'clock traffic interrupted the mule's 
 meditation. At a point where two intersecting 
 streets cut the broad central thoroughfare, traffic 
 was boiling thickest, and it was here, in the 
 throng of clanging cars, leaping automobiles and 
 scurrying pedestrians, that the Wildcat attempted 
 to aid and abet the mule's judgment of traffic 
 conditions with a little more superheated lan 
 guage. 
 
 "Mule, /what ails you? Go ahead!" The 
 mule went ahead only to escape an oncoming 
 street car. "Look out for dese heah cars, dat's 
 all I tells you."' The mule looked out for three 
 or four cars and then met another down-town 
 covey heading for the Ferry Building. 
 
 A block above the Palace Hotel, with the 
 
42 LILY 
 
 Wildcat craning his neck about him at the shop 
 windows and digging his heels into the mule's 
 ribs, and with Lily perched on her precarious 
 roost in an attitude of prayer, the mule grazed 
 a bill-poster's wagon and bounced lightly from 
 a flivver's fender. Then the brute stepped on 
 his mental accelerator and made the next hun 
 dred yards in a gallop. Thereafter his speed 
 increased. 
 
 Near the Palace Hotel the animal's velocity 
 was something less than sixty miles a second. 
 Then, blocking the cyclone's progress, there 
 loomed a moving van. The mule swung sharply 
 to the right, down the side street along the hotel. 
 
 The Wildcat and Lily dived straight ahead 
 to the pavement. 
 
 About the side entrance to the hotel was 
 grouped a muttering mass of brunet humanity. 
 In his headlong dive from the erratic minded 
 mule the Wildcat caught a glimpse of several 
 hundred of his fellows, prominent among whom 
 was Gimlet. 
 
 Gimlet had located his victim, 
 
 Lily, landing on her horns, expressed her 
 opinion of mules in a bleat which combined 
 physical distress and summary of the day's lesson 
 in profanity. 
 
LILY 43 
 
 The mule charged at the packed mass of people 
 before him. He discovered that they were of 
 the Wildcat's color and swerved sharply to the 
 right. This time, with three wild leaps, he 
 gained the entrance to the hotel. He trotted 
 meekly through the lobby and across the wide 
 corridor. He galloped into the dining room 
 wherein Honeytone Boone at the moment was 
 doing the best he could to assure the white gentle 
 men ranged around the banquet tables that the 
 local representation of the colored race, to a man, 
 had gone Bourbon. 
 
 With the entrance of the galloping mule 
 Honeytone lost his voice. 
 
 The runaway, pursued by a rising chorus which 
 included all of the inflammatory languages of 
 Southern Europe, penetrated the long aisle be 
 tween two branches of a horseshoe table. He 
 stopped suddenly directly in front of Honey- 
 tone Boone. The flow of oratory was for the 
 moment choked by the rush of events. 
 
 With an intelligence superior to that of many 
 individuals of the human race who had listened 
 to Honeytone the mule voiced his criticism of 
 the speaker's final words in one long resonant 
 bray. 
 
 At the table of honor, apart from the speaker's 
 
44 LILY 
 
 table, a heavy-set gentleman in the uniform of 
 an officer of the United States Army, his shoulders 
 bright with the silver bars of his rank, smiled 
 for the first time that evening. In the tumult 
 about him the Q. M. Lieutenant was the only 
 member of the assemblage who enjoyed enough 
 self-control to sit still and enjoy the show. 
 
 Meanwhile in the wake of the mule, and well 
 beyond the intangible dead-line of the animal's 
 heels, a flock of waiters gave each other advice, 
 with gestures. 
 
 The mule, having functioned as a critic of 
 Honey tone's concluding remarks, turned sharply 
 and retraced his steps. Before him the courage 
 of the crowd melted in a solvent of safety-first. 
 
 At the passageway where he had gained en 
 trance to the horseshoe table the mule came face 
 to face with the Wildcat. As the mule passed 
 him the Wildcat grabbed for the animal's head 
 and succeeded in draping himself around the 
 mule's neck. The front end of the mule got 
 tame but he took careful aim with his right hind 
 leg and delivered one parting kick in the di 
 rection of a Prussian waiter who had signed under 
 the Swiss flag. "Mule, git ca'm befo' you wrecks 
 de place. Ca'm yo'se'f." Lily augmented 
 the Wildcat's admonition with a strenuous bleat. 
 
LILY 45 
 
 Deep in the chorus rumbled the Q. M Lieu 
 tenant's personal advice to the mule. Under the 
 combined influence of the trio the mule got calm. 
 It was at that moment that the bar-bearing 
 Lieutenant stepped from his place at the table 
 and made his way to the Wildcat's side. 
 
 The Lieutenant had recognized the solution 
 of the problem which had been uprooting the 
 normal calm which characterized the Presidio. 
 "Son," he said quietly, "where did you get this 
 mule?' 
 
 The Wildcat stepped into the limelight. 
 When white folks laughed and felt noble a boy 
 did himself proud to stand where he wouldn't 
 miss the gravy when the ham was being passed 
 around. 
 
 "Gin'ral 'suh, me an' mah mascot was medi- 
 tatin' roun' in de shade up heah in de woods 
 whah at de wild golfs roam. I wuz sleepin' me 
 some while de sleepin' wuz free like, an' dis 
 ol' mule an' Lily gits talkin' politics an' disputin' 
 so loud dey wakes me up. Lily claims one thing. 
 Mkile claims Lily lied. Mascot rams de mule 
 whah at he sets down. Mule shoots a hoof at 
 Lily. Misses Lily. I gits me a fence palin' 
 an' pacifies dat mule th'ee or fo' times in de haid. 
 'Git ca'm, Mule! Bam!' OP mule shoots an- 
 
46 LILY 
 
 otheh hoof. Aims at whah I wuz. Misses 
 whah I is. 'Mule,' I sez, 'Guilty.' Mule gits 
 de verdick. I gits a new palin' off de fence. 
 Big knot in one end. Dat's de mule's end de 
 mis'ry end. I glides up like ol' snake. Slow- 
 like. 'Woe, Mule,' I sez. I means trouble 
 woe, not de stoppin' kind. Mule looks side 
 ways, squinchin' like an' 'ceitful. OF mule 
 squinch one eye. Takin' aim. Aim steady. 
 Seed his undeh lip wiggle. Bad sign. Seed de 
 'U. S' on his laig. Knowed he was a 'tillery 
 mule f'm de ahmy. I yells 'Fiah!' Mule 
 squinch bofe eyes tight, waitin' fo' de gun to 
 bang. Gun didn't bang. Nuthin' bang 'ceptin' 
 de big knot in de fence palin'. 'Bam!' I give 
 dat varmint bofe barr'ls. . . . Tail kink some 
 when he lays down. After while he gits back 
 on his laigs. Opens his eyes. Fust thing he sez 
 when he seed me wuz, 'Yass suh, sergeant. 
 Whut's de ordehs fo' de day 4 ?' 'You's 'rested/ 
 I sez. 'Ten-shun!' Dat's all, gin'ral, suh. 
 'Ceptin' I marched dat ol' mule down heah whah 
 at you was waitin' fo' us. Dat's all. Heah 
 us is, suh." 
 
 In the gin'ral's accents was a mixture of Dis 
 tinguished Service medal, crown of glory, palm 
 leaves, and personal relief. "Take him outside 
 
LILY 47 
 
 and hold him out there. After this banquet is 
 finished we will take him back where he belongs." 
 
 "Gin'ral, yaas suh! Mule, stan' 'roun'. 
 Us aims to manage you fm now on!" 
 
 The Lieutenant walked back to his seat and 
 the oratory proceeded without further inter 
 ruption except for the strenuous glances of rec 
 ognition which flashed between the Wildcat and 
 Honeytone Boone. 
 
 The Wildcat led the mule outdoors. From 
 the brunet throng ranged about him he summoned 
 Gimlet. He created an open space with a single 
 warning. "Men, stan' back fm us an' dis mule. 
 Dem hind laigs sez U. S. dat means un-safe." 
 
 In a lower tone he addressed Gimlet. "Guess 
 dat wishbone's brought de luck! Dat's Honey- 
 tone, inside. Last I knowed he was Old Line. 
 Now he's speechin' uppity talk in whah de Bour 
 bon white folks is. Hangin' close to de grub. 
 Dat's Honeytone. When he comes out I gives 
 you a howdy do. Den me an' de ahmy gin'ral 
 leaves you. Me an' ol' gin'ral aims to drag dis 
 mule back whah he comes fm. I guess you 
 'filliates wid Honeytone widout no mo' help 
 f m me." 
 
 "I'll say us does. Ol' wishbone sho' done 
 noble." Resolution grated in Gimlet's words. 
 
48 LILY 
 
 'Til say us 'filliates else Honeytone busts all 
 de leavin' reco'ds eveh made by fast niggers." 
 
 In a little while the Q. M. Lieutenant, fol 
 lowed by Honeytone Boone and various other 
 banquet guests, plowed his way out to the en 
 trance of the hotel. When the Lieutenant 
 reached the sidewalk the Wildcat and Lily and 
 the mule were waiting for him. "Heah's yo' 
 mule, gin'ral suh." 
 
 .The army man smiled. "Get into the back 
 seat of my car. Lead the mule. We'll drive 
 to the Presidio." 
 
 The Wildcat hesitated only a moment. He 
 fixed Honeytone with his eye and summoned him 
 with a quick gesture., "Honeytone, leave me 
 interdooce mah oV fren' Gimlet. Mebbe you 
 boys kin start some projec' togetheh," 
 
 The Wildcat boosted the mascot goat into the 
 Q. M. Lieutenant's car. Clutching the mule's 
 wire halter he climbed to his seat beside the 
 goat. 
 
 On the curb Gimlet looked out of the corner 
 of his eye at Honeytone. "Honeytone, howdy! 
 I'll say us kin start sumpthin' projectin' togetheh. 
 Whah at's mah fifty dollahs I 'filli?tes wid de 
 chu'ch whut you starts*?" 
 
 Honeytone began to explain. 
 
LILY 49 
 
 When the Q. M. Lieutenant's car turned into 
 Market Street the Wildcat looked back. Honey- 
 tone was no longer standing still. He was rac 
 ing up the street one jump ahead of a hollow- 
 ground finish. Following close in his wake, 
 waving the wire-edge equalizer, leaped the gal 
 loping Gimlet. 
 
 The Lieutenant spoke to the Wildcat. "Son, 
 you're a pretty lucky boy. There's a hundred 
 dollar reward out for finding that mule." 
 
 "Gin'ral, yaas suh !" The Wildcat got his last 
 glimpse of the speeding Honey tone. "Us sho' 
 is lucky, Gin'ral. Me an' Gimlet an' dis Lily 
 goat is 'fested wid wishbone luck." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 IN one way and another Lady Luck was smil 
 ing on the Wildcat. She had just booned 
 him with a mule, A. W. O. L. from the 
 Presidio. On the mule's scalp was a hundred- 
 dollar bounty, but the luck the Wildcat craved 
 most of all was the kind which would bring his 
 Captain Jack back to him. Without Captain 
 Jack to tell it to, reward-bearing mules meant 
 nothing much to Lady Luck's favorite. 
 
 Towing the truant mule from the Palace Ho 
 tel to the Presidio, the Wildcat sogged down in 
 the back seat of an army automobile and rested 
 himself proud. 
 
 "Mule luck is all right, noble to have dis 
 hund'ed doll ah bonus whut de ahmy boys is givin* 
 to pay me fo' ketchin' dis mule. Rations is all 
 right, now an' den, an' a slug of Liza gin is 
 noble when a boy feels downtrod, but nuthin' 
 ain't nuthin' 'less ol' Cap'n Jack is whah at you 
 
 is." 
 
 San Francisco night was another fly in 
 
 50 
 
LILY 51 
 
 the copious helping of the ointment of good for 
 tune with which Lady Luck had been so gener 
 ous. "Sho' be noble wuz it daytime 'stead of 
 in de dark," he mumbled at Lily the mascot goat 
 who was seated beside him. "Does folks see us 
 riding in a automobile dey craves to meet up wid 
 us. Some day wuz us bust some boy be proud 
 to lend us money. Ainybody lend money to 
 automobile ridin' folks, but does you walk you 
 stays bust." 
 
 "What's that? What did you say?" The 
 Q. M. Lieutenant in the front seat of the car 
 speared a question at the Wildcat. 
 
 "Gin'ral suh, I wuz talkin' at dis otheh animil. 
 Goat, how come you is so dumb? Answer me!" 
 
 "Blaa-a !" Lily voiced a reply to her master's 
 demand. 
 
 "Mule all right?" In the Lieutenant's reiter 
 ated inquiry, which had been repeated at three- 
 minute intervals since the outfit started, there 
 was something which suggested that the greatest 
 good to the greatest number was all wrapped up 
 in a four-legged jug-headed mule branded "U. S." 
 on his left hind leg, and that the welfare of the 
 nation depended on the safe delivery of the mule 
 to the Presidio. 
 
52 LILY 
 
 "Gin'ral, yassuh! OP mule ramblin' like he 
 done drunk some gin wid his supper." 
 
 "Haw-wnk Eee Haw!" The trailer un- 
 limbered a shattering chord into the fog of mid 
 night. 
 
 The Lieutenant massaged his quivering ear 
 drums. ''That mule has a grand voice for the 
 Signal Corps telephones." He turned again to 
 the Wildcat: "Animal sounds all right. The 
 stable sergeant will knock the bray out of him 
 to-morrow. Mule has been A. W. O. L. for three 
 weeks. Made a horrible mix-up in memorandum 
 receipts and inventories." 
 
 "Gin'ral, yassuh !" The Wildcat was brief. 
 In the first place a boy generally stayed on better 
 terms with Lady Luck if he didn't affiliate too 
 intimately with white folks, and in the second 
 place the army is the army, and the Wildcat had 
 won his corporal's chevrons in the drafty days 
 by sticking out his chest and strutting like a 
 turkey gobbler and letting officers do most of the 
 talking. In the third place he didn't know any 
 more about memorandum receipts and inventories 
 than a naval aviator. "De gin'ral's mule trou 
 bles is his pussonal misery." 
 
 Thereafter for a little while the Q. M. Lieu 
 tenant rode in thoughtful silence, thankful for the 
 
LILY 53 
 
 pay-streak of good that had lightened the sombre 
 country-rock of evil out of which the world and 
 its inmates had been created in six working days 
 of eight hours. Now that the lost mule had 
 been roped into the fold the Lieutenant's ac 
 counts were cleared and retirement with the pay 
 vouchers at 75% of their pre- Volstead strength 
 was feasible. 
 
 The Lieutenant wondered if the Officers' 
 Guessing Contest in the wood-fire room would be 
 ended before his arrival. The hour was late but 
 one never could tell how the cards would run. 
 He pictured the scene that would ensue when he 
 pulled the clicker on his little verbal grenade and 
 cast it into the centre of a circle of gentlemen 
 whose merry singing voices had been roughened 
 by poker phrases, cigarettes, and stuff that might 
 have aged ten years in the woods where the night- 
 blooming bootleggers made it fresh every week. 
 "Yaas indeed, gentlemen. Here's your damn 
 mule! As far as I'm concerned Washington's 
 official pain is ended." Retired List. Play. 
 Travel. Comfortable Clothes. Golf. 
 
 The Lieutenant's retrospective mind touched 
 lightly upon a million dollar detail of the past. 
 A million dollars' worth of A. E. F. property 
 which had been lost. Property for which some 
 
54 LILY 
 
 sergeant had signed a memorandum receipt at a 
 base port in France. He could forget those de 
 tails. That was France. War! Here, clatter 
 ing along at the end of an iron wire, clutched by 
 the boy who had found him, was the nation's 
 Lost Mule. 
 
 The Lieutenant wondered if he might pry loose 
 a D. S. medal for the colored hero. He decided 
 that it was hardly feasible and that the hundred 
 dollar reward posted by the stable sergeant would 
 be ample payment. 
 
 "Mule all right?' 
 
 "Gin'ral, yassuh!" The Wildcat glanced 
 back at the mule which was being towed along 
 in the improvised noose of fence wire. 
 
 A long review of the day's events drifted 
 through the Wildcat's mind. "Neveh kin tell. 
 Us begins wid grief dis mawnin' but dat ol' Gim 
 let podneh sho' drug in de luck. , Meets up wid 
 dis money mule and heah us is, Lady Luck an' 
 Lily, me an' de mule, an' ol' gin'ral. Spec' us 
 gits de money to-night fo' ketchin' dis ol' mule. 
 Den look out raiment! Yaller shoes, cuttin' 
 edge pants, sort of cloudy dove in shade. Sho' 
 gits a necktie. An' a collah. Needs sumpin' in 
 de shirt line to hitch de collah on so it kaint climb 
 too high. Yaller necktie wid roosteh green 
 
LILY 55 
 
 spots. Mebbe stripes. Hard hat, cloudy dove 
 favored like de pants. Noble socks, red like. 
 Two socks. One fo' each foot. Bull blood 
 color. Den me an' Lily steps out some. Fust 
 us gits Lily a spo't blanket. Yaller favored. 
 Bull blood stripes mebbe. When us meets up 
 wid ol j Cap'n Jack us does him proud. In de 
 meantime, Lady Luck, heah us is!" 
 
 "Ah don't botheh work, work don't botheh me, 
 I'se fo' times as happy as a bumble bee . . ." 
 
 Until the Presidio gates loomed before them 
 the Wildcat drifted into the twilight sleep coun 
 try where Lady Luck's favorite son et his grub 
 when he could git it and slep' mos' all de time, 
 not caring a doggone, meanwhile, what happened 
 to the sunshine. 
 
 At the Presidio gates an Old Timer barked a 
 challenge at the gleaming lights of the Q. M. 
 Lieutenant's car. In the sentry's tone was the 
 brevity that had come in the rain-drenched nights 
 up the line in the A. E. F., but tempering the 
 Guard's formal voice was a technical perfection 
 which suggested a knowledge of who was out and 
 when he'd be back. Gone was the "Wat tell, 
 Buddie," absent the blue-pass bunk. 
 
56 LILY 
 
 "Off'cer th' post, corp'ral, colored civilian, one 
 goat, an* one damn mule," the Lieutenant an 
 swered. 
 
 "Pass, circus, an* git to bed." The sentry re 
 served this speech to himself but his rifle leaped 
 into a military gesture which spelled open gates 
 to the driver of the car. 
 
 "Betteh not monkey wid us, Lily." The 
 Wildcat in the back seat got proud and puffed 
 out a sentence at his mascot goat. "Us folks sets 
 noble an' rambles whah at us craves to go widout 
 no oP sentry stoppin' us. Sho' settin' purty. 
 Sho' doin' noble. De day come in bad. Tested 
 heavy wid grief. Ends up wid money in de 
 pocket an' de skillet thick wid grease. Neveh 
 kin tell. Neveh kin see whut Lady Luck's 
 gwine to do 'cept wid hindsight." His solilo 
 quy trailed off into a song hummed softly into 
 the night. In the song was some of the phi 
 losophy that he had learned in Lady Luck's 
 school. 
 
 Lady Luck is waitin' whah you leas' especk, 
 
 You ain't gwine to ketch her does you bus' yo' neck 
 
 Res' an' take it easy, " 
 
 A falsetto bleat from Lily seemed to voice the 
 
LILY 57 
 
 mascot's complete approval of the sentiment* 
 "Blaa-a!" 
 
 "Cut out that damn mumblin'." The Lieu 
 tenant's tone suggested a volley at sunrise, 
 "Mule all right?" 
 
 "Gin'ral, yassuh! Neveh seed a mule mo' 
 agile. Sho' beamin' wid health. Sho' spry. 
 Spec' wuz one spry wuth a nickel dat mule is 
 rich." 
 
 The gin'ral got the first sentence abreast of 
 the house on Officers' Row wherein burned the 
 wood fire. From the room containing the round 
 table whereon clicked the ante and across which 
 rasped intermittent discards there gleamed a 
 light. He turned to the driver. "Stop here. 
 We'll get out here. That's all to-night. Good 
 night." 
 
 The Lieutenant got out of the car and entered 
 the house. He returned a minute later leading 
 a flying wedge of shirt-sleeved officers. Curi 
 osity touched par and then about the Lieuten 
 ant's shoulders was thrown a wreath of night- 
 blooming congratulations. About the mule, at 
 a respectful distance, ranged the gallery of ad 
 mirers. "That Wildcat boy found him. Tell 
 me! Always played a spade flush against the 
 rest of the deck." 
 
58 LILY 
 
 The Wildcat stepped forward. A Lieutenant 
 fired a question at him. "How'd you find him*? 
 Where'd you locate the ramblin' prodigal*?" 
 
 The Wildcat told his story until out of the 
 peopled darkness Lily the mascot goat interrupted 
 the tale. Officers' ears bulged open, readily re 
 ceptive for the details of a kidnapping plot. 
 
 "Baby! Where'd y' get 'urn? Reg'lar me 
 nagerie." 
 
 "Goat. Belongs to this boy." The Q. M. 
 Lieutenant was quick to dispel his fellows' hopes 
 for an elaboration of the night's adventure. 
 "Mascot goat." 
 
 The Lieutenant summoned an orderly from 
 a somnolent post where the night-detail usually 
 meant eight hours' sleep. "Take this man and 
 this mule to headquarters," he directed. "Tell 
 the sergeant-major to get a receipt for this mule 
 from the stable sergeant and to credit my prop 
 erty account. Tell him my orders are to give 
 this Wildcat boy the hundred dollars reward 
 posted for this mule's return. That's all. 
 Wake 'em all up and get this business finished 
 to-night. Get this four-legged deserter hobbled 
 and hog-tied and haze him into the corral." 
 
 The Lieutenant turned to the Wildcat: "Go 
 
LILY 59 
 
 with this man. The stable sergeant will turn 
 the reward over to you. Goodnight." 
 
 The Wildcat and his guide walked away, fol 
 lowed by the mule. Close to the Wildcat's 
 side, now and then glancing at her ancient enemy, 
 Lily pattered along toward whatever future might 
 await her. 
 
 Down the interminable lengths of the Presidio 
 streets, relieved now and then by narrow open 
 spaces, clustered long rows of frame structures 
 of unvarying architecture. Presently the quar 
 tet came to the barracks wherein slept the re 
 ward-offering stable sergeant. In a little while 
 the mule returned to the company of his fellows 
 and then, under a dim electric light, the Wild 
 cat held out his hand and received therein five 
 twenty-dollar bills and a pen. "Sign this re* 
 ceipt." 
 
 The Wildcat confessed his inability to sign his 
 name. 
 
 "To hell wid de papeh, sarge. Dat ain't no 
 ahmy money." 
 
 The matter of the receipt was waived. 
 
 The advice relative to the receipt had been 
 offered by a soldier of the Wildcat's color. 
 When the Wildcat pocketed his roll this soldier 
 
60 LILY 
 
 looked at him intently for a moment. "You 
 been in de ahmy, boy?" 
 
 'Til say so. Fust Service Battalion. Got 
 me three goF stripes an' all de grief whut went 
 wid 'em. Whah at kin I git on de right road 
 leadin' down town. Me an' oF gin'ral sho' drug 
 dat mule a long ways since midnight. Aims to 
 git me a little sleep befo' mawninV 
 
 "Come on wid me. I shows you." 
 
 The Wildcat and his brunet companion wan 
 dered into the night. Half way to the entrance 
 gates of the Presidio the guide stopped. "Jes' 
 thought mebbe you might crave a slug o' gin. I 
 knows a place, back a ways, whah dey's a culled 
 boy wid a outfit whut retails f m a bottle fo' two 
 bits a dram." 
 
 "All de way! All de way 'till us finds dat 
 boy. How come you ain't said so befo'?" 
 
 "Ponderin' whether you crove gin de most." 
 
 "De most dan whut?" 
 
 "Mo' dan de bone dance whah de clickers 
 stan' on one foot an' run wid de otheh until de 
 seven shows." 
 
 "Boy, you is speakin' mah own talk. Fo'- 
 git de gin. Whah at is dis bone pasture?" 
 
 "I leads you." 
 
 Three minutes later, deep in an abandoned 
 
LILY 61 
 
 powder magazine that stands on the bluff that 
 faces the Golden Gate, the Wildcat plowed his 
 way through a packed ring of spectators to the 
 central zone of activity where, on an O. D. 
 blanket, a pair of dice were dancing their way 
 toward a fatal seven. "Orphan! Done killed 
 dey po' ol j father. Nex' boy!" 
 
 "Leave dis Wildcat own dem babies a while!" 
 "Han' me dem twins! I'se dey pappy. 
 Shoots twenty. Fade me whilst I fumble dese 
 leopards!" 
 
 "Bam, an' us stumbles on snake eyes! 
 Doggone dem dice. Reg'lar deception co'mittee 
 greets de strangeh. Shoots de relief. Shoots 
 twenty. Fade me whilst dis mule money is 
 
 tame." 
 
 "Unhitch 'em ! You is met." 
 
 "Mule dice, in de collah! Bam! An' us 
 reads six an' de sunset gun ! Hot dam ! lets it 
 lay. Shoots forty. Fade an' fall back !" 
 
 A weather beaten sergeant covered the bet. 
 "Shake yo' furlough. You is bleached!" 
 
 "Lady Luck, suss-tain me! Wham an 5 nine 
 sez Nero. Nine rally roun' ! Six-fo' ! An' 
 six-five ! Dice re-dooce ! An' dey sez five an' 
 five. One north. Gi,t south. Bam an' de 
 painful truth seven debbils !" 
 
62 LILY 
 
 "Gimme dem dice. Wilecat, shoots you 
 twenty. Fade me an' get frail." 
 
 "You is faded, roll 'em!" The Wildcat 
 stripped off one of his three greenbacks. "Let 
 'em leap!" 
 
 The gallopers leaped straight at seven. "Let 
 it lay shoots forty. Hitch up de mule money 
 an' ride 'em." 
 
 "I rides 'em! Roll de verdick." The Wild 
 cat laid down his two remaining twenties. 
 "Rides em rough." 
 
 The sergeant smothered the cubes in the moist 
 palm of his uplifted right hand, invoking the 
 while the aid of the several personal deities who 
 watched over his gambling activities. "Cleo de 
 Cleaner! De solid gold teeth! Wham an' I 
 reads six an' a solitaire. Wilecat, you is 
 cleaned." 
 
 The Wildcat found no point whereon he might 
 hang an argument. "I's cleaned. De ahmy 
 wins de battle. Ah retreats light. Come on 
 heah, Lily, befo' dese soldiers cuts de wool off 
 you." 
 
 The victim of the encounter beat the gun in a 
 ramble from the Presidio to his down town 
 rendezvous with the spindling-built companion of 
 
LILY 63 
 
 his trails and triumphs. He began his march 
 at two o'clock in the morning and it was an hour 
 later when he entered the territory wherein Gim 
 let was awaiting him. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 44 "Ik yEVEH kin tell about mules, 'ceptin' 
 I^L I dey always means trouble fo' some- 
 
 ^1 body. Come on heah, Lily, double- 
 time yo j feet. Us meets up wid Gimlet and eats 
 heavy. By dis time dat boy has collected f'm 
 dat Honeytone Boone. Gimlet neveh falls 
 down." 
 
 Gimlet in the meantime had been out-dis 
 tanced in a race led by Honeytone Boone. His 
 endeavors to collect his investment in Honey- 
 tone's ten-for-one church project had been handi 
 capped by the calisthenics involved in the busi 
 ness of running himself ragged and at the same 
 time steering a wire-edged razor toward a park 
 ing place in Honeytone's active anatomy. Gim 
 let meant well but he was loaded down with a 
 raging thirst for revenge and too much hardware. 
 After the first half mile he gave up the chase, 
 and breathing deeply, with his tongue hanging 
 out less than a foot, he retraced his steps down 
 Mission Street until he came to the Palace Ho- 
 
 64 
 
LILY 65 
 
 tel, from which point the race of revenge had 
 started. 
 
 It was well toward morning and Gimlet leaned 
 on a half-developed instinct in his search for his 
 companion. "De Wilecat gits whah de soldiers 
 is and either gits his money or fails one way 
 o' otheh de chances is he double-tracks it to de 
 place whah de nutriment kin be had fo' cash." 
 He shaped his course accordingly toward the 
 Sutter Street lunch-counter where he and the 
 Wildcat had agreed to meet. 
 
 Arrived at the "Hot and Ready" he inquired 
 for the Wildcat: "Dark complected Memphis 
 boy wid a goat*?" 
 
 "Ain't seed him, ain't been in to-night." 
 
 "I waits fo' him." 
 
 Thereafter for an hour Gimlet waited under 
 the frowning glances of the proprietor of the 
 lunch room, who reserved his welcome for patrons 
 equipped with cash. "Dis ain't no res' cure, 
 dem is eatin' chairs whuteveh sleepin' you does 
 is extrah. Like as not dat Wilecat is mindin* 
 his own bizness." 
 
 Gimlet paid no heed to the pointed suggestions 
 but maintained his place in a chair tilted back 
 against the wide wall of the lunch room. 
 
 It was here, at three o'clock, that the Wildcat, 
 
66 LILY, 
 
 trailed by the fatigued but faithful mascot goat, 
 found him. "You outrun dat Honeytone*?" 
 
 The question was superfluous, the answer 
 could be read in Gimlet's dejected counte 
 nance. 
 
 "Kaint outrun nuthin'. I'se built too short 
 in de laigs fo' any fancy runnin'. Dat Honey- 
 tone got lighter eve'y minute." 
 
 "Neveh you mind, Gimlet. I collected dat 
 soldiers' bonus fo' ketchin' dat mule fo' dem ahmy 
 folks." 
 
 "How much you git?" 
 
 "Hund'eh dollahs. Mos' money us seed since 
 I los' dat Soopreem roll." 
 
 "Wilecat, a bird in de hand beats snake's eyes. 
 You betteh res' content wid dat hund'ed an' not 
 try to build up too sudden." 
 
 "Gimlet, don't tell me nuthin', I knows. Yo' 
 advice is late. De hund'ed dwindled when us 
 got 'suaded into de oP army game. Us is 
 cleaned." 
 
 "Wilecat, I'se starved to death. Think how 
 much ham an' eggs us could git fo' ha'f whut 
 you los' on dat las' pass." 
 
 "Hush, boy! Right now is eggs a nickel a 
 million us couldn't buy one shell. Nuthin' in 
 mah pockets but lint." 
 
LILY 67 
 
 'Dey's a li'l hard lint in mah pockets, twenty 
 
 cents." 
 
 "Gimlet, has yo' all got twenty cents? Us 
 eats heavy. Come on back to dat lunch counter." 
 
 They turned toward the lunch counter and a 
 minute later were perched on two stools facing 
 an array of food which looked to them like the 
 front door of Paradise. 
 
 "How much dat fried liveh wid dem drippin' 
 onions splattered roun' it?" 
 
 The Wildcat discovered that liver and onions 
 was two bits a throw. 
 
 "Huh! How much dem li'l pieces sausage 
 meat floatin' in gravy?" 
 
 Here was an item that came to thirty cents 
 for the pair. 
 
 "Ain't you got no small sausage, 'bout ten- 
 cent size sausage?" 
 
 The restaurant business is not a financial suc 
 cess as a charitable institution and the husky 
 proprietor was not slow in explaining the fact to 
 the pair. "When you gits money you eats. In 
 de meantime back away f'm de trough befo' you 
 scares de cash customers." 
 
 The Wildcat essayed one last attempt. "Whut 
 you got fo' twenty cents dat's big an' hot 'n 
 nllin'?" 
 
68 LILY 
 
 "Nuthin. On yo' way." 
 
 At the last moment the proprietor relented. 
 "How come you don't try Chinatown wid yo' 
 twenty cents'? Dem Chinese boys cook up mys 
 terious things whut is hot an' fillin', 'long wid 
 tea. Go on down the street 'till you comes to 
 Grant Avenue an' turn to de lef. After a while 
 you comes to de place whah fo' ten cents you 
 eats a full meal, full of everythin'." 
 
 "Us is gwine, an' if I neveh sees you again 
 dat's twice too soon fo' me. Come on heah, Lily, 
 Wuz cobble stones as hard as dis boy's heart 
 de street pavers would starve to death like us is. 
 Come on, Gimlet, whah dese Chinee boys treats 
 you right fo' ten cents." 
 
 The night looked younger than it was and pres 
 ently the Wildcat and Gimlet, trailed by Lily, 
 prowled around the corner of Grant Avenue and 
 marched up the incline into Chinatown. 
 
 "Wilecat, is you eveh seed dese Chinese boys 
 in Chinatown whah at dey lives so thick 4 ?" 
 
 "Kaint say is I. You means dem sawed-off 
 yaller lookin' boys whut is so dumb dey kaint 
 talk lanwi'ge no mo' dan a cacklin' hen*?" 
 
 " 'At's dem. I shows you a gamblin' game 
 whah you pays ten cents fo' a lottery ticket an' 
 mebbe wins big. De game runs neah de Chinee 
 
LILY 69 
 
 josh house whah you gits lucky fo' a nickel." 
 
 "Whut you mean lucky ?" 
 
 "Voodoo luck I shows you." 
 
 "I'se afraid of dis Voodoo luck. All us craves 
 is to git dis mascot goat back to whah Lady 
 Luck hears her bleat, whah at is dat goat*?" 
 
 The Wildcat looked around him. Lily was 
 nowhere to be seen. Followed by Gimlet he 
 retraced his steps until he came to a narrow open 
 ing between two buildings, and in this sanctuary, 
 nibbling heartily on a vermilion paper poster that 
 was pasted to a crumbling brick wall, they dis 
 covered the goat. "Lay off dat paper!" 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily, with her mouth full of an 
 announcement proclaiming the marriage of Hun 
 Yip and Loy Teng, protested against the inter 
 ruption. 
 
 "Come along heah, Goat. Whut you mean 
 eatin' dese pasted up papers?" 
 
 "Spec' dat goat is twice as hungry as whut us 
 
 is." 
 
 "Gimlet, yo' talkin' about dis Chinee lottery 
 has ruined me whah stummick rations is con 
 cerned. I crave to git heavy wid cash befo' de 
 eatin' begins." 
 
 "Us gits heavy." 
 
 The march toward the Joss House, where luck 
 
70 LILY 
 
 could be purchased for a nickel, was interrupted 
 only by a temporary pause in front of a fish 
 store where, suspended from a hook, drooped a 
 discouraged looking octopus. 
 
 "Whut dat slick snake lookin' thing?' 
 
 "Kaint say. Dese Chinee boys eats ainy- 
 thing f m snakes both ways. Come 'long heah 
 'till us sees dese josh house boys." 
 
 On the way Gimlet enlarged upon the pos 
 sibilities of a ten-cent ticket in the Chinese lot 
 tery. "Boy, you gits action. I means no waitin' 
 a month 'till dey sees who loses. Ten minutes 
 afteh you marks yo' ticket de man says 'Heah's 
 yo' money,' or else, 'Git out befo' I throws you 
 out!' Us gits two tickets an' de chances is we 
 needs a wagon to haul away de money." 
 
 "I'll say so. I feels lucky." 
 
 "Wait 'till us finishes wid de josh house whah 
 dey makes luck, den you knows whut de lucky 
 hunch feels like." 
 
 Gimlet turned up a stairway which led to a 
 room congested with the paraphernalia of a Bud 
 dhist philosopher who carried a side-line of cel 
 luloid idols and punk-scented punk to be ex 
 changed for nickels and dimes of visiting luck 
 hunters. 
 
 Ushered by a clattering devil-rattle and the 
 
LILY 71 
 
 bamming of a bronze bell the Wildcat entered 
 the shrine room wherein functioned the priestly 
 coin collector. 
 
 The smell of burning incense hit the Wildcat 
 in the nose. He sneezed four times in rapid 
 succession. He fished in his pocket and hauled 
 out a broken cigar. "I lights dis" he said to 
 Gimlet. "When it gits to burnin' I figures it 
 an' Lily kin beat all de Chinee smells dey is." 
 
 He lighted the cigar and went about the busi 
 ness of drawing a sheaf of lucky sticks from the 
 bamboo receptacle which held them. For five 
 cents he bought a small celluloid god which the 
 priestly attendant assured him would bring a mil 
 lion dollars' worth of good luck. 
 
 With the lighted cigar in his hand he paused 
 near a great pyramid of celluloid idols which 
 had been manufactured in Japan for the tourist 
 trade of Chinatown. 
 
 From behind him the sullen boom of a gong 
 suddenly echoed in the crash of an exploding 
 string of firecrackers banging within the resonant 
 confines of a Buddhist coal-oil can. 
 
 The Wildcat turned rapidly to discover the 
 source of the riot and to present if need be an 
 armed front against whatever machine gun 
 troops might be approaching. "Gimlet, dis heah 
 
72 LILY 
 
 josh luck sho' skeered me. How come so much 
 ruckus?' 
 
 Then the glowing end of the Wildcat's cigar 
 touched the celluloid corpus of one of the luck- 
 bringing idols piled on the table. 
 
 Gimlet's reply was drowned in a splash of 
 flame. 
 
 A slight smell of burning goat hair mingled 
 with the heavy religious vapors of the room. 
 Lily made one wild leap away from the burning 
 gods and landed like a freight train, south of the 
 embroidered lizard which added lustre and charm 
 to the equator of the corpulent Chinese priest. 
 For an instant pidgin English went to par and 
 then it cracked under the strain. The priest in 
 dulged in forty high pitched Chinese verbs. 
 Gimlet and the Wildcat meanwhile busted all 
 circular track records in their search for the door. 
 
 Seeing nothing worthy of her skill Lily took 
 a ra'r at the heavy bronze bell. For the subse 
 quent ten seconds she lay near the bell. On her 
 face was a dejected look wherein mingled shame, 
 chagrin and shattered hopes. 
 
 The celluloid gods had functioned rapidly but 
 the Wildcat's brain had reacted almost before 
 the flash of the explosion had faded. 
 
 "Must of been a million luck-bringin' doll 
 
LILY 73 
 
 babies in dat pile. A million at a nickel apiece ! 
 Us leaves befo' de josh boy tries to collec' de 
 money. Lawd gawd, whah at is Lady Luck an' 
 ol j Cap'n Jack!" 
 
 Aloud he called to Lily and Gimlet. "Come 
 on heah while de comin' is good. Heah's de 
 do'." 
 
 With Gimlet and Lily clattering in his wake 
 he leaped down the stairway to the street. On 
 the sidewalk he took a long look at Gimlet. 
 "Boy, I'll say us is lucky. Us is lucky dat de 
 Chinee boy was on de hot side o' dat blazin' 
 josh gawd. When he cools off he sho' strives 
 to collec' fo' dem luck things whut de hell fire 
 burns so quick." 
 
 Gimlet, weak in the technique of camouflage, 
 wasted no time in idle speech. "Come on heah, 
 Wilecat, bring dat goat. Us retreats back befo' 
 dat josh boy comes down de steps." 
 
 " 'Spose he does come down de steps, den 
 he starts a race wid us to see kin he kill us 
 runnin'. Naw suh ! See dat singin' ahmy oveh 
 dere 'cross de street whah de salvation's free? 
 Dem religious boys needs us. Come on heah. 
 Come heah, Lily." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE Wildcat, in flight from the wrecked 
 temple, led his charges across Grant 
 Avenue from the Chinese Joss House to 
 where a small band of saved souls were making 
 the welkin ring. The salvage in lost souls at 
 the moment included three fur-bearing Hindoos, 
 two Kanakas and two Chinamen. The Wildcat 
 and his companion stepped to a place close be 
 side the booming bass drum, and Lily came to 
 attention at his feet. "Stan' heah on my lef, 
 Gimlet," the Wildcat directed. "Did you eveh 
 sing in yo' life, sing now. Lily, at res' ! See 
 kin you sing." 
 
 The Wildcat threw his head back and presently 
 the windows along Grant Avenue reverberated 
 to the strenuous and enthusiastic message which 
 his lungs bawled forth. Salvation was free and 
 he took a lot of it. 
 
 When the priestly proprietor of the Joss House 
 clattered into the street looking for the pair who 
 
 had set fire to his meal ticket the Wildcat was 
 
 74 
 
LILY 75 
 
 proclaiming to the quivering heavens that he had 
 been a sinner but that the chariot of salvation 
 had run him down. "Once I was blind an' 
 steeped in sin sing, Lily, doggone you! but 
 I got saved when dey took me in." He kicked 
 gently at Lily. Lily resented the kick. She 
 lowered her head and butted the bass drum. 
 Thereafter, noting the mechanics of the arrange 
 ment, the Wildcat accented the heavy notes by 
 an alibi drum-bamming. On lung-busting ac 
 cented notes he kicked the goat and the mascot 
 butted the drum for a low G. 
 
 Into this din trotted the keeper of the Joss 
 House. The Chinaman inspected several mem 
 bers of the singing band and was about to turn 
 away when his eye fell upon the contours of 
 Gimlet's anatomy. Firecracker language rattled 
 in an undertone beneath the heavy singing. The 
 Joss House priest laid hold of Gimlet's arm. 
 Gimlet kicked out at him violently. It was at 
 this critical moment that the hand of the white 
 man's law came to Gimlet's aid and a moment 
 later the Joss House priest was being escorted back 
 to his den in the clutches of two plainclothes 
 men. "Whut in hell do you mean, breakin' up 
 this sidewalk church ! Wan more move and I'll 
 sap you in the bean. Get t'hell upstairs there 
 
76 LILY 
 
 where yez belong wid thim Chinee josh gods 
 av yours." 
 
 The singing ceased and the Wildcat leaned 
 toward Gimlet. "Boy, whut'd I tell you, sal 
 vation sho' is free. Come on heah, Lily, lay 
 off dat drum. Whuff! Come close to gittin' 
 us dat time." 
 
 "Close to gittin' me," Gimlet answered. 
 "Josh boy sho' had dis angel by de wing when 
 de police got him. Come on heah now, us 
 goes." 
 
 The pair walked down the street a little ways 
 and Gimlet stopped before a rickety street door. 
 "Wilecat, heah's whah at dey plays de lottery. 
 Us has got de luck. Now does dat josh boy 
 crave to ketch us again chances is he looks a mile 
 f'm heah 'stead of close by." 
 
 The Wildcat followed Gimlet through a series 
 of doors into a room wherein a packed mass of 
 human beings hoped that a ten-cent investment 
 would win a thousand dollars. 
 
 For himself and for the Wildcat Gimlet 
 marked a pair of ten-cent lottery tickets. After 
 that, for thirty minutes, the investors waited for 
 whatever prize Lady Luck might dig out of her 
 store of unearned rewards. Lily, meanwhile, 
 with a forest of human legs springing up about 
 
LILY 77 
 
 her, voiced her displeasure in an occasional bleat. 
 
 "Lis'en at dat goat pray, Gimlet. Lily knows 
 us is iinanc'lly bust. She's pullin' fo' us de best 
 she kin wid dat thin voice. Neveh kin tell. I 
 seen a skinny girl outpray de preacheh at revival 
 meetin' one time. Mebbe Lily's voice makes mo 3 
 listenin' dan all de josh house bells an' Chinee 
 singin' whut is. I feels festooned wid luck. 
 Go 'head an' pray loud, Lily. Pray dat us 
 ketches up wid ol' Cap'n Jack befo' de debbil gits 
 us. Us craves mah white folks." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" prayed Lily, and in answer to her 
 prayer came action in the sound of axes cracking 
 through the outer doors of the gambling establish 
 ment. 
 
 Ten minutes later the Wildcat, Lily and Gim 
 let, the luck harvester, enjoyed a cool march 
 downhill to the police station. 
 
 At ease in the bull-pen of the jail the Wildcat 
 summarized his opinion concerning Chinese lot 
 teries and the hand that fate had dealt him. 
 
 "Gimlet, I 'spects you's a hoodoo. Mebbe 
 not, but dis has sho' been a rough night. 
 Mebbe dem Chinee doll babies whut wuz cre- 
 matized brings dis. Now when us gits out you 
 gits one mo' chance wid de luck befo' me an' Lily 
 kills you." 
 
78 LILY 
 
 "How come you thinks I brings de bad luck*? 
 I figgers dis heah mascot goat whut you thinks is 
 so lucky brung dis woe. Befo' I meets up wid 
 you an' Lily I wuz free. Now heah us is. 
 Don't aim no remarks at me, boy. Don't aim 
 nuthin' at me." 
 
 Lily, listening, evidently heard the complaint 
 and aimed a pair of high-speed horns at Gimlet 
 where they would impress him most acutely. 
 After the third round Gimlet acknowledged his 
 mistake. "Goat, lay off me. I brung de bad 
 luck, I admits it. Me an' you an 7 Wilecat 
 is ol' Jren's." 
 
 Lily accepted Gimlet's apology with all the 
 goat dignity which she could assume and then 
 until dawn the trio slept peacefully. 
 
 In his sleep the Wildcat dreamed of a gal 
 loping mule festooned with hundred-dollar bills 
 and of kicking dice on whose upturned faces 
 bloomed a harvest of sevens and elevens. 
 
 At six o'clock he was awakened by the clang 
 of the morning gong and five minutes later he was 
 tasting the first food which he had eaten for 
 what seemed more than a hundred years. "Hot 
 dam, Gimlet, dese jail rations sho' is grand 
 grub. Eat heavy. Dis goat got nutrified las' 
 
LILY 79 
 
 night, ain't no leavin's fo' Lily. Lady Luck 
 sho' is smilin'." 
 
 Three hours after the Wildcat had enjoyed his 
 jail breakfast a police judge opened the news 
 papers in his apartment in a downtown hotel 
 and was greeted by a four-column head retailing 
 the outstanding features of the night's raid, 
 wherein, through the courtesy of the reporter on 
 the police run, the truant Wildcat, Gimlet and 
 the mascot goat were heavily featured. 
 
 A recent epidemic of lightweight gambling 
 offenses which had persisted in spite of the 
 Judge's efforts to eliminate them, had not served 
 to sweeten that official's attitude toward similar 
 offenses. "If I draw that pair of crapshooting 
 lottery fans and the Lord spares my voice, I'll 
 boost them into the straight and narrow path. 
 This stuff has got to stop." 
 
 On the Judge's calendar of activity when he 
 arrived at court the first two names in the list 
 were those of the Wildcat and Gimlet. Five 
 minutes later the Wildcat and his companion 
 were hauled before the bar of justice. 
 
 The Judge looked down at his victim. "Were 
 you playing this Chinese lottery*?" 
 
 "Gin'ral, no suh! Me an' Gimlet was at- 
 
8o LILY 
 
 tenden' dat sidewalk chu'ch 'till it broke up. 
 Den somebody says dey was a good salvation 
 meetin' in de basement next' do, an' us went. 
 Sho' craves religion. I got saved de fust time 
 in de Memphis revival de winter of de Arkansas 
 flood. Neveh backslid none 'ceptin now an' den 
 when de oP demon rum rassles me down an' now 
 an' den when de sevens and elevens is gallopin' 
 free in de bone pasture." 
 
 "Crap shooting, is that it? Is this Gimlet 
 partner of yours a crap shooter too 4 ?" The 
 Judge's eyes narrowed as he gazed down at the 
 Wildcat. 
 
 "Gin'ral, no suh! Dis Gimlet ain't no crap 
 shooter. Wid me it's difPrunt. Mah uncle 
 learned me neveh to dooce, tray or twelve. I 
 shoots some. Spec' mebbe I'se de bes' crap 
 shooter in de world, 'cept dat is wid de otheh 
 boy's bones." 
 
 In the corner of the Judge's eyes appeared 
 a flock of faint wrinkles. He leaned over and 
 whispered quietly to a police sergeant standing 
 near him. 
 
 The sergeant whispered his reply. "I ain't 
 got any, your honor, but I can get some in a 
 minute from the bull-pen." 
 
 "Get 'urn!" 
 
LILY 81 
 
 The police officer left the court room, walk 
 ing hurriedly, and for a space of three minutes 
 the wheels of justice slowed down to where their 
 noise was drowned out by a buzzing fly who was 
 doing his best to bore through a pane of plate- 
 glass. 
 
 The officer returned and walked quickly to 
 where the Judge awaited him. In his hand he 
 held something for the Judge. The Judge re 
 ceived his property and extended his hand to 
 the Wildcat. In his open palm were two ivory 
 dice. 
 
 "Best crap shooter in the world, are you? 
 Well, I stake you to ninety days with the thirty 
 day bonus for this Gimlet partner of yours. 
 You get one flop, nothing or six months, and if 
 you go free you can take Gimlet and the goat 
 with you." 
 
 "Gin'ral suh, you means I kaint start low an' 
 build up?" 
 
 "I said one flop, seven, eleven or make your 
 point, against six months." 
 
 The Wildcat warmed the dice between his 
 palms. Through his brain raced a series of pic 
 tures of all that could happen in six months. 
 He set this gallery of art over against the drab 
 succession of dragging days that would be his 
 
82 LILY 
 
 if he drew his jail sentence. He looked over 
 at Gimlet. That individual's lips were moving 
 in a rapid silent prayer. He looked down at 
 Lily and in his mascot's eyes he seemed to sec 
 an unuttered plea for life, liberty and the pur 
 suit of happiness. 
 
 "Lawd gawd, Lady Luck," he prayed, "stan' 
 by me! An' one damn bone is round on de 
 edge! Kaint be done. Gotta be done." 
 
 He looked up at the Judge. "Gin'ral suh, no 
 use trying to throw a point, one of dese bones 
 is roun' shouldered. I aims fo' eleven. Does 
 I throw it kin us go free?" 
 
 ' 'Eleven opens the door. Roll 'urn against 
 the wall." 
 
 The Wildcat groaned. "Kaint be done." He 
 was half determined to save three months of 
 freedom by accepting the three-months sentence 
 when he looked down again at Lily. On the 
 instant that he did so the buzzing fly, which had 
 left the plate-glass field of operation, landed a 
 little above Lily's right eyelid. The goat winked 
 instinctively and shook her head violently up and 
 down in an effort to rid herself of the insect. 
 
 The goat's winking suggestion was the Wild 
 cat's cue. "Lady Luck, I knows de signals. 
 Goat, I believes you when you nod." To him- 
 
LILY 83 
 
 self the Wildcat pledged again his old promise 
 of all or nothing. Aloud he voiced his plea to 
 the heaven's goddess. "Lady Luck, stan' by 
 
 me." 
 
 He lifted his right hand high above his head 
 and in his moist palm nestled the freighted dice. 
 "Stan' by me. I'se a prowlin' Wilecat an' I'se 
 got to prowl. Leave freedom ring! Bam! 
 Gallopers, parade rest on a jail bustin' 'leven! 
 Bam!" 
 
 The dice left his hand. 
 
 The Wildcat shut his eyes against a too sudden 
 revelation of his fate. Before he had opened 
 them a loud rattle of subdued laughter and ap 
 plause from the ring of spectators suggested the 
 welcome message to be read on the upturned face 
 of the dice. 
 
 He opened his eyes and his vision centered on 
 a six-five. 
 
 "Hot dam!" 
 
 He turned his beaming face to the Judge. 
 "Gin'ral suh, dey fetched de key." 
 
 The Judge, true to his word, spoke the sentence 
 that meant freedom to the trio. "Prisoners dis 
 charged. Next case." 
 
 "You mean us is free?" 
 
 "You're free. Get out of here. Get out and 
 
84 LILY 
 
 stay. If I catch you again all you roll is a ball 
 and chain." 
 
 "Yass suh! Come on heah, Gimlet. Come 
 on heah, Lily. Us is leavin' and does us neveh 
 git back dat's twice too soon fo' me." 
 
 Thirty seconds later, with Gimlet and the mas 
 cot goat at his heels, the Wildcat walked through 
 the one-way door of the gray building and 
 breathed the air of freedom on Kearny Street. 
 He paused only long enough to bid a brief fare 
 well to his companion. 
 
 "Gimlet, I bids you goodbye. Dis is good 
 leavin' weather. Me an' Lily is headed fo' whah 
 de steamboats is and de fust one leavin' fo' 
 N'O'leans takes wid it one home-cravin' Wilecat 
 an' one mascot goat." 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Some is lucky, some is rich, 
 Hard time tellin' who is which. 
 
 ON the Embarcadero, three piers east of 
 the lure of the Happy Home hall, a 
 little while after OP Man Trouble had 
 branded the Wilecat with the red-hot double- 
 cross, Lady Luck poulticed the wound with 
 liberty and the welcome offer of a waiter's job 
 on the New Orleans bound Roller. 
 
 Memphis and his own white folks were sud 
 denly., a million miles closer to him when the 
 job was cinched. In the shadows of the long 
 pier he fired a volley of commands at his mascot 
 goat: "Varmint, double-time yo' laigs. Us is 
 Memphis bound!" 
 
 Lily responded with action and for a moment 
 the Wildcat surrendered to a reflective mood 
 which had developed with the luck of the hour. 
 "Lady Luck showered down this N'O'leans boat 
 job. Us is sho' in de luck rain. Dis country 
 is all right for dem whut craves it but us is mis- 
 
 85 
 
86 LILY 
 
 put 'less us stays wid oP Cap'n Jack. No use 
 tryin' to do nuthin' 'less dat boy is wid you to 
 pick up de leavins' afteh OP Man Trouble gits 
 done wid you. Come along heah to whah de 
 man said." 
 
 The Wildcat and his mascot marched along 
 steel decks and climbed down slippery companion- 
 ways until they reached the entrance to the 
 Roller's galley. The Wildcat explained his 
 mission to a lounging sailor who was doing the 
 best he could to aid and abet his health with a 
 wedge of pie. The sailor called into the galley 
 to the ship's cook. "Bam! Heah's a new boy 
 fo' you. He says he's signed on as a waiter 
 for de officers' mess." 
 
 Bam, the cook, carrying a nickname three 
 syllables shorter than the name of his native 
 state, grunted an acknowledgment of the sailor's 
 announcement. The grunt was backed by two 
 hundred pounds of fat. 
 
 The Wildcat sized up his new boss. He saw 
 a wide perspiring face three shades blacker than 
 a midnight coal-mine. "Whut dat name de 
 white folks calls you?" 
 
 ' 'Bam. Short fo' Alabam'. I keeps de nick 
 name in each hand. Come 'long wid me." 
 
 "Trib'lation, let me miss you." The Wildcat 
 
LILY 87 
 
 felt no craving to argue with the chef about the 
 Bam business. "Uppity nigger/' he reflected. 
 "Does he git screechin' reckless wid dat Bam 
 trouble I sees kin I be de echo wid de whet edge 
 of a whinin' blade. Bam! Big nigger. Does 
 de ruckus come I unfolds de equalizer an* cuts 
 him down boy size. Den I feeds his carcass to 
 Lily. Huh! Leave him Bam some does he 
 crave to. One Bam f'm dat fat nigger an' 
 I swings agile wid de trimmin' hook an' den 
 stan's 1 back whilst de arms an' legs shower 
 down." 
 
 He spoke a command to his mascot goat. 
 Come on heah, Lily. Stan' by me." 
 
 The chef glanced at the goat. "Whut dat 
 goat doin"?" 
 
 "Dat's my pussonal mascot. Lily was wid 
 me in de A. E. F. whah us killed so many bad 
 folks. Us pranced 'cross de country f m New 
 York to San F'mcisco an' now us is headed 
 home." 
 
 "Whut you mean home?" 
 
 "Ten-o-see. Memphis. Us is headed back 
 whah Cap'n Jack is. He's mah white folks." 
 
 "Huh!" The chef grunted. He stepped 
 through a door opening from the galley and with 
 a short gesture indicated the objective of the 
 
LILY 
 
 Wildcat's attack. "See dese potatoes. Peel me 
 forty miles an' peel 'em thick." 
 
 The Wildcat faced his new world, a small 
 compact world entirely surrounded by Irish 
 potatoes. 
 
 Five minutes later, when the full significance 
 of her master's new position in life showered upon 
 her in the form of an intermittent cascade of 
 potato peelings, Lily began to realize that she 
 had entered into a goat heaven. In thirty 
 minutes she had profited by the technique of 
 thick peelings to a point where a thin belt which 
 festooned her midship section tightened to the 
 tension of actual discomfort. In spite of this 
 impediment she did the best she could to keep 
 even with the game. 
 
 Near the bursting point she voiced a gentle 
 criticism of the belly-band. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 The Wildcat answered with action. A quick 
 swing of his paring knife deprived Lily of 
 the yellow insignia. "Goat, at ease. At res'! 
 You is done wearin' harness. Eat dese peelin's. 
 Mo' you eats de less peelin's dey is to clean up. 
 Git nutrified whilst de gittin' is free." 
 
 He speared another long potato and began to 
 unwind the peeling over the lazy blade of his 
 
LILY 89 
 
 paring knife. As he worked he drawled softly 
 to his mascot and presently his speech had mel 
 lowed into a moaning chant, senseless except for 
 a persistent lazy rhythm of tone: 
 
 "Eat heavy, heavy when you gits a chance 
 Eat dis twinin' peel 
 
 Re member all dem hungry days in France 
 Eat dis twinin' peel." 
 
 The mascot goat began to bulge with pros 
 perity and in a little while she was three bleats 
 and two peelings behind the song and the source 
 of food. 
 
 "Speed up, Lily! Whut you mean by quit- 
 tin'?" 
 
 Lily looked at a two-foot cone of potatoes on 
 the floor and at the full sacks piled high against 
 the bulkhead walls. Over her eyes fell the 
 shadow film of defeat. In goat mathematics she 
 mentally arranged an equation wherein her per 
 sonal capacity opposed an impossible volume of 
 Irish potatoes. She sought an exponent for the 
 low side and, finding it, she announced her sur 
 render in a series of sobbing bleats, punctuated 
 with the gentle involuntary grunting that comes 
 from gorging unwisely and too well. 
 
90 LILY 
 
 "How come? Whut you mean gittin' de 
 stomach mis'ry an' quittin' yo' job'?" 
 
 "Blaa-a! Ba! Ump! Burr! Blaa-a-a-a!" 
 
 "Stan' up. Ten-shun, goat ! 'Sorb yo' rations 
 befo' I knocks you A. W. O. Loose f 'm yo' neck." 
 
 Lily failed to respond. The Wildcat essayed 
 a further series of orders and threats and invita 
 tions. His words were interrupted by the open 
 ing of the door leading into the ship's galley. 
 The doorway framed the figure of the ship's cook. 
 The cook looked at the little pile of peeled poto- 
 toes and then his investigating eyes roved in 
 search of the peelings which should have 
 marked the Wildcat's industry. "Whah at is 
 de peelin's?" 
 
 "Cleaned up, Bam. Dis lazy mascot goat et 
 'em so as to save time an' trubble. Showin' de 
 lazy blood now, cravin' dwindled on de second 
 sack." 
 
 The cook snorted. "What you mean cleaned 
 up? I tole you peel 'em thick. Dem potatoes 7 
 insides don't mean nothin', it's de peelin's I'm 
 afteh. Head into dat work an' dis time does 
 you crave luck, save de peelin's !" 
 
 In the cook's bellowing tones the Wildcat de 
 tected the accents of rising anger. He resumed 
 his labor. With Lily gorged to the ears the mat- 
 
LILY, 91 
 
 tcr of saving the peelings came easier and in an 
 hour there had accumulated a great pile of potato 
 debris to one side of which lay a few thin white 
 fragments of what had been two sackfuls. 
 
 The monotony of the game had its effect and 
 presently, searching for some diversion which 
 might keep him awake, the Wildcat's hands 
 stripped a large round potato of its coat. Under 
 the knife the potato began to assume the di 
 mensions of a cube. With the first cube com 
 pleted the Wildcat gave his attention to the manu 
 facture of another. On the six planes bounding 
 each cube he inscribed the insignia which lends 
 authority to a pair of dice and into the light pits 
 he inlaid enough black dust to render the message 
 of the Irish gallopers legible. He essayed a pre 
 liminary swing on the steel deck. "Seven! 
 Stan' back, Lily. Let de luck eggs hatch !" 
 
 Lily, grunting gently, was shoved out of the 
 center of the clear space by the Wildcat's foot. 
 
 "Hash brown, show de seven specks! . . . 
 Wham! Fo'-tray. French fry, over de plate! 
 An' I reads six-five. Mebbe yo' eyes is out but 
 you still kin see de luck trail !" 
 
 The preliminaries were interrupted by the re 
 turn of the cook. The Wildcat looked at his 
 superior and a smile, half of guilt and half of 
 
92 LILY 
 
 invitation, played around the drooping corners 
 of his mouth. "Bam, look at de present de good 
 Lawd done sent inside a potato. Like de pearl 
 in de clam all dey knows is whut Lady Luck 
 learned 'em. Seven an' 'leven. You is de boss 
 cook. See kin you boss dese hash eggs." 
 
 Yielding to a temptation too strong for him 
 to resist the cook reached out his hand for the 
 gallopers. "Shoots fo' bits. Dey calls me Bam 
 an' Bam I is!" 
 
 "You is faded. Serve yo' spuds." 
 
 "Pot roast, git yo' meat. Wham ! An' I reads 
 six-five. Shakin' jelly. I lets it lay. Shoots a 
 dollar. You calls yo'se'f Wilecat see kin you 
 yowl some." 
 
 The Wildcat responded nobly. "Roll 'em, 
 dey does de yowl in' when de time comes." 
 
 The cook fondled the cubes for two seconds 
 and then cast them lightly across the deck toward 
 where Lily lay enjoying her digestive distress. 
 "Lucky spud, whuff ! . . . An' I reads six-ace ! 
 . . . Leggo, goat!" 
 
 The ace, rolling within an inch of Lily's nose, 
 was absorbed with the lightning technique of a 
 fly-crawling lizard. The Wildcat laughed. 
 "Show me de ace. All I sees is a peg-leg six." 
 
 "Ace was comin'. Goat et it. Seed it bloom." 
 
LILY 93 
 
 "You didn't see nuthin'. Bets is off. I has 
 some bone twins does you feel heavy an' right." 
 
 The cook hesitated. "Not now after sup 
 per," he conceded. "Pick dem peelin's up an' put 
 'em in de steam kittle at de end." 
 
 The Wildcat began the business of disposing 
 of the accumulated debris. He undamped the 
 cover of a forty-gallon steam kettle which stood 
 beside five similar food engines. He took one 
 look at the mess in the kettle and interrupted his 
 work long enough to find the chef. "OF kittle 
 half full wid garbage." 
 
 "Dat ain't garbage. Put dem peelin's in like 
 I tole you. Dat stuff is sour mash. Load dem 
 peelin's in wid it." 
 
 The Wildcat obeyed orders and added the 
 potato peelings to the mysterious looking mass 
 which half filled the interior of the steam kettle. 
 "Cat's good. Now git de table set. To-night I 
 shows you how de moon kin shine inside a boat." 
 
 "You means likker?" The Wildcat smacked 
 two hopeless lips. 
 
 "I means likker. F'm here to N'O'leans us 
 makes it an' ages it fresh every day. Dat's why 
 dese Shippin' Board boats needs such big cook 
 house crews. Half de time used up makin' moon 
 shine fo' dese white folks whut runs de boat." 
 
94 LILY 
 
 "Whut dis likker taste like"? Whut name 
 does you call it?" 
 
 "Tastes like dey ain't enough. Boys calls it 
 joy brine." 
 
 "Named afteh dat Democrank president run- 
 nin' boy?' 
 
 "Ain't dat kind. Dis is picklin' brine," 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THROUGH the long days of the Roller's 
 staggering cruise the Wildcat peeled 
 potatoes and carried treacherous trays of 
 food across rolling decks and dreamed of a hap 
 pier state where a boy's feet stayed put when he 
 set 'em down. Heaven became a place where 
 there were no potatoes to be peeled. If the 
 management craved to have potatoes in heaven, 
 all right, but peeling them was an occupation ap 
 propriate for the Devil's house-guests. 
 
 In confidential conversation with his mascot 
 goat the Wildcat assured Lily that here was the 
 dwindle end of their prowl. "When us gits to 
 dry land us takes root. 'Cept for de trib'lation 
 us missed in dat Temple o' Luck bizness, us is mis- 
 put on de rollin' wave. When I gits landed I 
 settles down on a farm wid a mule whah I sees 
 de same sights every day." 
 
 The fat cook, overhearing a statement of the 
 Wildcat's ambition, drew cards and sat into the 
 farm game. "Only way to live whut is," Bam 
 
 95 
 
96 LILY 
 
 commented. "You sleeps when you craves to, 
 you gits up when you likes. Farm kaint sink an' 
 de land neveh blows up. You raises yo' vittles. 
 You has yams an' roast in' ears, garden truck, side 
 meat, ham gravy, biskits, pot likker, greens 
 an' " 
 
 "Bam, hush ! Come frost you barbecues mebbe 
 two shoats whut has growed heavy on chink'pins 
 and hick'ry nuts. You takes de ol' britch loader 
 an' blows ol' possum off de high limb. You baits 
 a barb hook an' next mawnin' when you runs de 
 trot line dey's six o' eight catfish hitched an' 
 waitin' fo' de hot pan. Boy, anybody whut don't 
 live on a farm is got de brain feebles." 
 
 "Dey sho' is! Live high, work low. Let de 
 oP mule work. Front end gentle, hind end 
 wild. Tames down de hind end wid a plough. 
 Mule does de work. You does de high livin'." 
 
 Bam was silent for a little while, lost in con 
 templation of his dream of ease and then, in a 
 sudden outburst of friendliness, he staked his roll 
 on a single throw. "Wilecat, I got fo' thousand 
 dollahs whut I'se saved up. When us lands whut 
 you say us gits a patch o' land 4 ? Git a gran' farm 
 fo' dat money. F'm den on all us does is set 
 on de sunny side of de Gold Mountain an' watch 
 Lady Luck do de work." 
 
LILY 97 
 
 "Bam, Fse wid you! Rollin' wave, fare thee 
 well. Fse a settlin 5 down nigger. When ol' 
 angel Gabe toots de hawn fo' de las' 'sembly my 
 whah'bouts is located on de li'l farm!" 
 
 In New Orleans the pair fell into the clutches 
 of a real estate man and after a few preliminaries 
 the southwest quarter of the northeast quarter of 
 section thirteen, township too far south, range not 
 enough west, was transferred to its new owners. 
 
 Bam began the business of disgorging the ac 
 cumulated roll with which his own Lady Luck 
 had boomed him through long years of saving. 
 Five minutes later, with the Wildcat at his side 
 and Lily trailing after them, Bam marched out of 
 the real estate office. 
 
 On the street the Wildcat looked at the cook. 
 "I fo'got to ask de man how us gits to whah de 
 farm is at." 
 
 "I knows. Come on. Us lays in some grub 
 an' supplies." 
 
 "Bam, how much money is you got left?" 
 
 "Tops a little on two hund'ed dollahs. How 
 much is you*?" 
 
 The Wildcat counted the residue of his wages. 
 "Goin' on forty dollahs. 
 
 "Dat's enough. Come on heah* Us gits de 
 outfit," 
 
98 LILY 
 
 At two o'clock, after three hours devoted to the 
 business of laying in a load of assorted groceries 
 which cut heavily into the depleted treasury, the 
 pair started for the forty-acre farm in a hired 
 wagon. To relieve the monotony of the ride the 
 driver of the wagon regaled them with slugs of 
 local geography. "See dat splindlin' oak, dat's 
 whah de Todd boys wuz hung." 
 
 "Culled boys?" 
 
 "Plain nigger. Turned some culled when de 
 chokin' rope got tight. Dat crik down theh is 
 whah de white folks baptised young Blatch Fen 
 nel de time he got sinful an' loaned a hawg f'm 
 ol' Judge Harkness. Baptised him plenty. 
 Neveh come up. Swimmin' yet wid de 
 mud-cats." 
 
 "Ain't dey no pleasant views?" The Wildcat 
 was fed up on local items. 
 
 "Wait 'till us gits to yo' farm. Dat's pleasant 
 enough. Pleasant 'cept at night. Trees thick 
 wid owls. Owls keep askin' "who" like dey 
 missed somebody." 
 
 "Us tells 'em who wid dis britch loader. How 
 far is de farm f'm heah?" 
 
 "Toppin' de nex' hill. Rollin' piece by de 
 droopin' cypress." 
 
 "You means dat swamp lookin' land?" 
 
LILY 99 
 
 "Some swampy. Cabin's on de high groun'. 
 You sees it now." 
 
 "Whut's dat town 'way yonder whah dem 
 chu'ches is?" 
 
 "Ain't no town. Dem ain't chu'ches. Dem's 
 oil rigs fo' drillin' dis rock oil outen de 
 groun'." 
 
 "You means dat black oil like long sweetnin' 
 'lasses whut dey burns 'stid of coal on de 
 boats?' 
 
 "Dat's it. An' whilst us is on de subject, 
 look out fo' dem oil boys. Dey looks black 
 like niggers but dey's hardshell white. Does you 
 crave a ruckus find yo'se'f a grizzle bear but 
 don't neveh start no thin' wid a oil man 'less you 
 craves leadin' a slow drag, layin' down, to whah 
 yo' next' of kin awaits de boxed remains." 
 
 "Ain't lookin' fo' no ruckus. Here us is. 
 Sho' a noble cabin." 
 
 The wagon drew up in front of a broken down 
 shack. At one end a chimney of mud and sticks 
 lifted against a background of drooping cypress 
 trees. A broken door in the front wall of the 
 cabin, hanging by one rawhide hinge, swung open 
 in a surly welcome to the new tenants. 
 
 "Don't look like nobody wuz home. Betteh 
 dan us boys had in France whilst us wuz killin' 
 
ioo LILY 
 
 dem bad folks. Come on heah, Lily. See whut's 
 inside." 
 
 A fireplace, two rude bunks, a broken table and 
 four shelves against one end of the cabin com 
 pleted the inventory. 
 
 Stored on the shelves at the end of the cabin 
 the wagonload of groceries which had loomed so 
 large lost its impressive bulk. When the supplies 
 were parked the Wildcat stood for a moment 
 looking into the future. "Bam, when dem gro 
 ceries is et, whah at is us*?" 
 
 "By dat time us raises garden truck. Now 
 
 us eats." 
 
 The next hour was devoted to the business of 
 eating ten dollars' worth of high priced food. 
 At the conclusion of the meal the Wildcat was 
 half a ham ahead of his partner- "Whuff! 
 Sho' is noble rations. Dis farm life sho' is 
 grand.'* 
 
 No reply. Bam was asleep. Five minutes 
 later, while Lily was polishing the fragments 
 which had fallen from the lap of luxury, the 
 Wildcat drifted into the land of dreams. 
 
 Lady Luck, noting the acute attack of laziness 
 which had attacked her favorite, gathered her 
 skirts about her and began a disgusted retreat 
 from the theatre of idleness. 
 
LILY 101 
 
 The Wildcat, dreaming of a land flowing with 
 milk and honey, was headed for a different do 
 main, where Old Man Trouble dealt the cards* 
 
 Until the groceries were consumed the Wild 
 cat and Bam managed to evade any more strenu 
 ous occupation than that involved in the de 
 struction of five or six meals each day. Now 
 and then one of the pair would respond faintly 
 to the urge of industry but invariably the good 
 resolutions succumbed to some stronger force, 
 with the result that the end of the month found 
 nothing much remaining on the cabin shelves 
 except ants and dust. 
 
 'Tse got twelve dollahs left, Bam. 'Spose you 
 goes to town an' sees kin you lug back dat much 
 groceries." 
 
 "You is built lightest, Wildcat. I betteh stay 
 heah on guard whilst you makes de trip." 
 
 "Don't need no guard. OP farm stay here 
 a long time yit." 
 
 The argument terminated in a deadlock which 
 was solved late one afternoon by the arrival of 
 a rangy white man who bounced into view on 
 the seat of a buckboard hauled by a pair of 
 
102 LILY 
 
 languid mules. The stranger addressed the 
 Wildcat. "Where's the men that own this 
 place?' 
 
 "Cap'n suh, I owns half. Otheh boy is 
 sleepin'." 
 
 The white man shoved a folded sheet of paper 
 at the Wildcat. "Tax bill," he said. "We've 
 been hunting the last owner for two months now. 
 Ain't no record of the transfer yet. You got a 
 week left to pay this. I'll be back Wednes 
 day." 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh. Does you mind tellin' me 
 whut de papeh says? I kaint read, much." 
 
 "The paper says cash, three hundred and 
 some odd dollars to the county treasurer at the 
 court house before Thursday night." 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh!" 
 
 For ten minutes after the white man left the 
 Wildcat did some troubled thinking. No folded 
 up paper never meant nothing good for a boy, 
 nohow, let alone one comin' from a white man. 
 This one was no exception. He awakened his 
 partner and asked some questions. The cook, 
 versed in the cares which civilization inflicts upon 
 the average citizen, was able to comprehend the 
 difficulty. 
 
 "Wilecat, I neveh thought about dis item. 
 
LILY 103 
 
 Tax money fo' de white folks at de cote house.' ' 
 
 "Tax money?" 
 
 "I said so. OP judge an' de rest whut hangs 
 'round de cote house needs groceries same as 
 
 us." 
 
 "Doggone dat Lady Luck." The Wildcat 
 looked at his mascot goat. "Lily, come heah. 
 Whut us gwine do?" 
 
 The goat made no response except to snap at 
 a roving bumble bee that had figured on parking 
 a stinger in Lily's nose. Something in the mas 
 cot's action reminded the Wildcat of an instant 
 when one of a pair of rolling dice, carved from 
 an Irish potato, had been accumulated by Lily's 
 lightning tongue. 
 
 The Wildcat turned quickly to the cook. 
 "Bam, I knows de way out. Say no mo j . Us 
 gits de rations. I'se got twelve dollahs an' de 
 little gallopers whut has stood by me since de 
 A. E. Fracas. I goes to town an' rallies roun' 
 de tree whah de greenbacks bloom. When de 
 cube frost hits dat tree you needs a wagon to 
 haul de leaves back. I'se gone !" 
 
 With Lily trailing at his heels the Wildcat 
 plodded along the road to town. 
 
 In the town, at a one-chair barber shop where 
 hair-cuts were ten cents, without musk, he en- 
 
104 LILY 
 
 countered the opposition which he craved. "Git 
 in de back room wid dat gam'lin' talk." 
 
 Followed by four willing gladiators the Wild 
 cat walked into the back room. He hauled out 
 a few silver fragments of his stake and dug up 
 the twin cubes. He rubbed the gallopers on 
 Lily's head, behind the ears. "Wild man, fall 
 back dead. Shoots fifty cents. Fade me is you 
 plumb dumb. I craves action!" 
 
 "Graver, roll an' groan." 
 
 The Wildcat slammed the family jewels into 
 a garden where a seven bloomed. "I reads six- 
 ace. Lets it rest. Show money, wild men, is 
 you crazy. 33 
 
 "I'se crazy. Roll 'em." A liberty dollar hit 
 the Wildcat's stake. 
 
 "Lily, stan' by me. Lady Luck, shower down. 
 I'se on my prowl an' I drinks money-blood. 
 Wham! ... I reads, doggone! How come 
 snake-eye?" 
 
 "Loses no thin' but time an' money? Dey's 
 yo' dice kick 'em." 
 
 The Wildcat fished after some more silver. 
 "Shoots a dollah. I'se a wave-tail varmint an' 
 I'se on my prowl. Whuff! ... an' I reads 
 ace-dooce ! Doggone, Lily, git behind me." 
 
 "You still owns 'em, boy, prowl on yo' way." 
 
LILY 105 
 
 The Wildcat continued his prowl at about 
 four bits a step until he encountered his final ten- 
 cent piece. Confident that here at the eleventh 
 hour Lady Luck would rally to her favorite he 
 indulged in some heavy language. "Builds f'm 
 a jitney 'till you sells yo' clothes. Still prowlin'. 
 When I'se done dead varmints chokes de road. 
 Run up f'm a dime to a busted bank. When I 
 quits I needs a mule to haul de money." 
 
 * 'Bones kaint hear you. You claims big, 
 see kin you roll dat way." 
 
 The big claimer breathed a final prayer and 
 greeted the advent of victory with a premature 
 yowl of welcome. He slammed the rattlers from 
 him with a wide gesture which told the world 
 that pay-day was now. Wham! 
 
 The gallopers subsided near the wall. On 
 their sinister faces snake-eyes spoke the venom 
 of defeat. The prowler shrunk four sizes, 
 "I'se done." 
 
 'Til say you'se done. You is had yo' prowl." 
 
 Dragging Lily at the end of her string the 
 Wildcat shuffled away from misery. "Come on 
 heah, Lily. Us mingles de news wid ol' Bam." 
 
 Long after midnight the Wildcat entered the 
 cabin door. "Bam, is you sleepin"?" 
 
 "Kaint sleep whilst mah stummick is so wide 
 
106 LILY 
 
 awake. Whah is dem groceries'? I sho' most 
 starved in two." 
 
 "Us bofe. Ain't no groceries. Ain't mithin', 
 not 'less you is reaped some rabbits wid de 
 britch loader." 
 
 "Ain't no rabbits. Whut you do wid de 
 money?" 
 
 "Consecrate de money on de freckle bones. 
 Money dwindled down to ten cents. Snake-eye 
 showed an' de ten cents neveh stopped to say 
 goodbye." 
 
 "Wilecat, wuz fool niggers a nickel a load 
 you is a million dollahs. Git to sleep. Leave 
 me sleep whilst dey ain't no eatin' to do." 
 
 "You an j me both." From the black voids 
 whence hope- had fled the Wildcat's old phil 
 osophy, tempered a little by his hunger, fought 
 its way to expression. Lily and the fat cook, half 
 asleep, heard the mumbled words that proclaimed 
 to-morrow the master of to-day. 
 
 I eats when I kin git it, 
 I sleeps mos' all de time 
 I don't give a doggone if 
 De sun don't neveh shine. 
 
 Hungrier than he had been for many long 
 weeks the Wildcat faced a future wherein threats 
 
LILY 107 
 
 replaced promises. He flopped despondently 
 against the cabin wall. "Wish ol' Cap'n Jack 
 was here. Wish Lady Luck knowed how us 
 craves rations. Doggone dis farm bizness." 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 SOME hours later, when the Wildcat be 
 gan to believe that food would henceforth 
 rank with other happy memories of the 
 past, Lady Luck came rambling down the road 
 in a car whose roaring motor told the world 
 that here was action and lots of it. Lady Luck 
 was convoyed by a chauffeur and three rapid fire 
 white men. 
 
 In the front of the cabin the three white men 
 got out of the car. The Wildcat sized up the 
 group. "Shower down, Satan. Here comes dem 
 tax folks to run me an' Bam into de swamp." 
 For a moment his hunger was forgotten. He 
 got to his feet and picked up Lily's leading 
 string. "Come 'long, Lily, an' come agile. Us 
 gits elsewhere befo' dem white folks sees kin 
 dey shoot like dey aims." 
 
 His retreat was halted by a hail from one of 
 
 108 
 
LILY 109 
 
 the dressed-up white men. "Your name Vitus 
 Marsden?" 
 
 The Wildcat stopped and acknowledged his 
 identity. "Cap'n, yessuh. Dat's my wet-head 
 name whut I got at de baptisin', but mos' folks 
 calls me Wilecat." 
 
 "Where's the other boy?" 
 
 "Bam, he is seein' kin Jifi leep some in de 
 cabin, suh." 
 
 "Get him out here, we want to talk to you." 
 
 The Wildcat summoned Bam to his share of 
 their common fate. "Come out heah, big boy. 
 De tax folks is got us." 
 
 The fat cook got to his feet and dragged along 
 behind the Wildcat to where the white folks 
 stood beside the car. 
 
 One of the white men addressed the farm 
 owners. "What do you hold this land at?" 
 
 The Wildcat remembered Barn's four thou 
 sand dollars. Even a quick talking tax man 
 would see that the farm had mighty little sal 
 vage value. He braced himself and spoke of 
 values. "Cap'n suh, I riggers a thousan' dollahs 
 would be middlin' right." 
 
 The white man hauled out a little black book, 
 two folded sheets of paper and a fountain pen 
 
no LILY 
 
 with motions a little less rapid than those of a 
 striking rattler. "One thousand. Even forty 
 acres.'- He wrote as he talked. "I know it's 
 the best farm in the county, like all the rest 
 of them, and that you're making a crop worth a 
 hundred an acre like everybody else. One thou 
 sand. Forty acres. Forty thousand dollars. 
 Sign your name to this title transfer." He un 
 folded two documents and handed them to the 
 Wildcat. "Bottom line. Vitus Marsden to the 
 Heavy Oil Corporation. That's my outfit." 
 
 "Cap'n suh, I neveh learned much writin'. 
 OF Bam writes good." 
 
 The white man signed the Wildcat's name. 
 "Make your mark here." 
 
 The Wildcat made his mark and passed the 
 papers to the fat cook. Bam, not yet fully 
 awake, signed his name languidly. 
 
 The white man handed a little blue slip of 
 paper to the Wildcat. "Check on the First Na 
 tional. Forty thousand dollars. That's done. 
 You boys can live here until the crew begins 
 setting the drill rig next week." 
 
 When the automobile and the rapid-fire white 
 men were half a mile down the road the Wildcat 
 quit batting his eyes long enough to look side 
 ways at the slip of blue paper. He handed 
 
LILY 111 
 
 it to the fat cook. "Whut dis mean, Bam?" 
 
 "La^wd wid wings! De man thought you 
 said thousan' fo' one acre 'stid de whole farm. 
 Wilecat, us is got fo'ty thousan 5 dollahs!" 
 
 "Tell me gentle ! Kaint think so big in money. 
 Whut did de papeh say?" 
 
 "Dat's a check papeh whut tells de bank boy 
 pay Vitus Marsden fo'ty thousan' dollahs." 
 
 "Lady Luck, how come I doubt you! Le's 
 ramble befo' de bank boy goes blind. Fo'ty 
 thousan' ! Bam, dat's twenty-twenty, me an' 
 you! Come on heah, Lily." 
 
 Over the last three miles of the race the Wild 
 cat covered the ground with Lily galloping fifty, 
 yards behind him and Bam lost in a cloud of 
 dust. Midway of the stampede shoes and shirts 
 and other superfluous raiment were discarded. 
 At two o'clock, perspiring freely, barefooted and 
 hatless, the Wildcat entered the doors of the 
 First National. The terrifying delays of identi 
 fication hit the victims like the seven-year itch 
 but finally payment was accomplished and a 
 great pile of packed currency flowed under the 
 paying teller's grille. "You boys want to de 
 posit that money here?" 
 
 "Cap'n suh, whut you mean, deposit?" 
 
 "Leave it here so you won't get robbed." 
 
112 LILY, 
 
 The Wildcat looked at the stacked bank notes 
 on the slab in front of him. "I'd like some fo' 
 groceries an' such. Ain't et me nothin' fo j three 
 days. Nothin' much, dat is. Me an' Bam needs 
 some shoes, de flies is so bad on feet. Kin us 
 have mebbe twenty dollahs 'till Sat'day*?" 
 
 The paying teller handed each of them a stack 
 of ten-dollar bills. "Here's a hundred dollars 
 apiece." He made an entry in a pair of thiii 
 books and handed one of the books to Wildcat. 
 "Nineteen thousand, nine hundred to your 
 credit." 
 
 Bam picked up his book and asked a few 
 questions. "Dis book means I'sc got money in 
 de bank no matteh where I goes'?" 
 
 "Twenty thousand, less the hundred I gave 
 you." 
 
 "Folks, goodbye. Mah feet is leadin'. 
 Wilecat, now I heads for Alabam' whah I be 
 longs. Some day I sees you." 
 
 Bam was on his way. 
 
 The Wildcat stowed his hundred in his pants 
 pocket and then for a little while he lingered in 
 the bank. Presently his brain stopped spinning 
 long enough to let his stomach record its de 
 mands. Thereafter, until evening, he occupied a 
 chair in the Home Club restaurant, In front of 
 
LILY 113 
 
 him a heavy table sagged with food. Beside 
 him, on the floor, Lily chattered around over a 
 layout of nutriment which renewed her faith 
 in the existence of a goat heaven. Now and 
 then the Wildcat stopped eating long enough to 
 pay his bill. By six o'clock he had managed 
 to eat his way through thirty dollars and a few 
 moments later, weighing more than he had for 
 some months, he struggled to his feet. "Whuff! 
 Dat's de best I kin do wid dese crampin' pants. 
 Got to git me some big size clo'es." 
 
 The restaurant man gave him an admiring 
 look. "You done noble. You is easy de eatin- 
 ist man in de worl'." 
 
 "I'se de sleepinist. Come on, Lily. Us sees 
 kin us sleep some." 
 
 "You got a room in town^" The restaurant 
 man craved to retain his champion customer. 
 
 "Us ain't got none yit. ' 
 
 "I lodges you upstairs in a gran' front room 
 at fo' bits a day." 
 
 "Dat's us. Whah at's de room T 
 
 Led by the restaurant proprietor the Wildcat 
 and Lily mounted a rickety stairway and voyaged 
 down a dim hall and entered the four-bit room. 
 Two minutes later the Wildcat was asleep. 
 His sleep was unbroken except for a persistent 
 
ii4 LILY 
 
 vision of a cloudburst wherein each green rain 
 drop, larger than the last, bore on its surface a 
 dollar mark and a seven. 
 
 On the floor beside the bed, bulging comfort 
 ably, the mascot goat helped steady with the sleep 
 business. Above the pair, smiling her smile and 
 making her plans, hovered Lady Luck. 
 
 "Wake up, Lily ! Us is rich an' when you is 
 rich you is happy! Us is happy wid enough 
 money to las' f'm now on. Come on, heah." 
 
 Trailed by his mascot the Wildcat began a 
 spending campaign. First of all, shoes. "Yaller 
 shoes wid rag tops. Sort o' ague gray tops." 
 At a jewelry store he accumulated a verdigris 
 gold watch. "Kaint tell whut time de watch 
 say but de ol' chain sho' looks gran'." A wide 
 gray hat with an orange band followed the pur 
 chase of a suit of clothes whose yellow fabric 
 was checked at six-inch intervals by purple 
 stripes. The vest was discarded in favor of a 
 double-breasted crimson creation, shot with green 
 dominoes. A blushing violet shirt with green 
 cuffs and a blue collar served as a background 
 for a striped scarf of lemon and black. A pair 
 
LILY 115 
 
 of bull blood gloves and a gold-headed cane com 
 pleted the effect. 
 
 Against a day when eating tobacco might be 
 scarce he bought two long plugs of pressed leaf 
 and stowed them in the moist environment of his 
 hip pockets. 
 
 That was done. "Dese shoes needs shinin'." 
 He bought six mulatto colored cigars and lighted 
 one after bestowing its mate upon the mascot 
 goat. "Have a eatin' cigar, Lily. Us is rich 
 an' happy." 
 
 Something in Lily's pose cast a shadow of 
 doubt upon the business of happiness. "Goat, 
 you looks ragged. Come on heah, 'till us gits 
 you dressed up." 
 
 The Wildcat returned to the shoe store and 
 bought Lily two pairs of child's size moccasins. 
 He laced them on the mascot's feet and then 
 retraced his course to the clothing store where 
 he invested in a second silk shirt which was pres 
 ently draped around Lily's narrow chest. The 
 mascot submitted to further decoration in the 
 form of a flaring yellow necktie and a boy's size 
 straw hat from which dangled the ends of a bow 
 of blue ribbon. Against the richness of the silk 
 shirt Lily's string tether struck a false note and 
 
ii6 LILY 
 
 forthwith the goat was haled to a hardware store 
 where a brass collar, studded with spikes, was 
 fitted around her neck above the yellow scarf. 
 To this collar was attached a thin brass chain. 
 The Wildcat stood back and surveyed his mas 
 cot. "Goat, I to? you many's de time Lady 
 Luck some day shower down de big money an' 
 make us happy. You looks gran' now but us 
 fo'got de gran'des' present of all. Remembeh 
 I said some day Fd buy you a go? watch an' 
 chain. Come on heah !" 
 
 The Wildcat returned to the jewelry store 
 wherein he purchased, at gold prices, a massive 
 brass watch and chain. He pinned the watch 
 into the pocket of Lily's silk shirt and tied the end 
 of the chain to the mascot's necktie. 
 
 "Now you sho' is quality. Rich an' happy! 
 Say you is much o-blige fo' all de good luck." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily voiced an expression of her 
 sentiment but in her voice anyone who under 
 stood goat language might have detected more 
 of annoyance than of happiness. Somewhere in 
 the mascot's utterance was a longing for a re 
 turn to the simple life. 
 
 The pair left the jewelry store and started 
 across the street. Midway of the thoroughfare 
 they halted to let a snorting automobile pass 
 
LILY 117 
 
 them. The plunging car awakened a new am 
 bition in the Wildcat's mind. "Us needs a auto'- 
 beel. Rich folks rides in 'em an' us is rich." 
 
 On the sidewalk the Wildcat turned to one 
 of the accumulated gang of two-legged satel 
 lites. "How much does dese autobeels cost now 
 days?" 
 
 "Thousan 5 dollahs, mebbe mo'. Depen's on 
 de looks." 
 
 "Whah at kin us git one?" 
 
 Five minutes later the Wildcat was negotiating 
 for the purchase of a car. "One of dese high 
 tone auto'beels wid glass sides like a hot-house. 
 Long an' slantin' back, wid de runnin' boy set- 
 tin'* up front an' me an Lily ridin' de back 
 
 seat." 
 
 The matter of payment for the car was ar 
 ranged to the satisfaction of the vendor and a 
 car was promised for delivery at six o'clock that 
 night. 
 
 The Wildcat made his fourth trip to the bank. 
 "You better leave some of that money on de 
 posit," the paying teller advised. 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh. All us needs is a thousan 5 
 dollahs fo' a auto'beel an' a thousan 1 mo' fo' 
 'spenses. Eatin' money an' such." 
 
 The automobile was delivered to the purchaser 
 
ii8 LILY 
 
 at six o'clock. "Sho 5 looks noble. Grandes' 
 auto'beel I eveh see. Git in, Lily." The yel 
 low paint had made good. The Wildcat ad 
 dressed the boy at the wheel. "How much you 
 want to drive steady fo' me an' Lily?" 
 
 The driver hired himself out at war-time daily 
 wage and immediately regretted that he had not 
 doubled the amount. The Wildcat climbed into 
 the back seat beside the mascot. "Drive 'roun' 
 an* 'roun'," he directed. "Down de main streets, 
 an' back." He delivered a farewell address 
 to the throng about him. "Gents, at seven 
 o'clock me an' Lily invites you all to eat a gran' 
 banquit at de New Home restaurant. De grub 
 is free. Afteh de eatin' part is done de festal 
 orgies will begin. One an' all you is welcome." 
 
 For an hour, with his mascot sweating be 
 side him, the Wildcat was driven round and round 
 in his hot-house car according to his expressed 
 desires. "Us is rich, Lily. Gran' clo'es, gran' 
 auto'beel, goP watch, you an' me both. GoP 
 headed cane, us sho' is rich an' happy." 
 
 The goat attempted to dislodge a green fly 
 which persisted in roosting under the protection 
 of the studded collar. 
 
 "What you mean shakin' yo' head no?" 
 
 "Blaa-a !" Lily admitted that home had never 
 
LILY 119 
 
 been like this, but whether or not she was happy 
 was still a question. 
 
 The car stopped in front of the New Home 
 restaurant where a hundred pairs of bulging eye 
 balls awaited the coming of the lord of rations. 
 Presently the hundred guests milled and per 
 spired at the task of eating six meals on one 
 invitation. 
 
 Midway of the food battle and while his 
 vocal organs could still function the host rared 
 back on his hind legs and proceeded to orate into 
 the wiggling ears of the assemblage. "Men an' 
 brethren. Folks calls me Wilecat. I is. Once I 
 was downtrod an' poor. I been hungry mos' all 
 de time 'ceptin' when I was wid ol' Cap'n Jack. 
 He was mah white folks. Many de time I'se 
 been sad an' fo'lorn wid Lady Luck A. W. 
 O. L. an' de claws of grief a tearin' at my in- 
 sides. Now I'se rich an' happy an' like de 
 preacheh says I begins to sow an' reap. Whilst 
 I thinks of it I announces dat as soon as I kin 
 find a good preacheh I aims to start a Wilecat 
 chu'ch. De Wilecat preacheh ain't gwine pesteh 
 you does you crave a ra'r of gin, week-days, an' 
 ask how come you is so steeped in sin. Wile- 
 cat chu'ch gwine be jes' like a lodge wid a gran' 
 ruckus ev'ry night. Dat's all, 'ceptin' when 
 
120 LILY 
 
 de banjo boys gits heah us sees who kin shake de 
 mos' agile foot fo' de gran' prize, whilst to de right 
 an* lef of de dancin' flo' is li'l green pastures 
 whah de gallopin' cubes roams wild. Does de 
 sevens an' 'levens bloom easy you is lucky, an' 
 does sumpthin' detain 'em you is lucky too, 
 'cause de Wilecat is rich an' de Wilecat pays de 
 bills. Resoom yo' battle wid de rations." 
 
 The battle slowed up an hour later and about 
 the room a dozen crap games rattled into being. 
 From the sea of chance the submerged losers came 
 to the surface and drifted to the Wildcat where 
 their gambling purses were replenished. "Come 
 easy, go easy." In an hour the Wildcat dis 
 covered that his supply of cash was exhausted and 
 thereafter the festivities slowed up until the hour 
 when the bank opened on the following day. 
 
 Thenceforth for a week the Wildcat banked 
 both sides of a losing game. Repeated warnings 
 from the paying teller at the bank went unheeded 
 and at the moment when the favorite of Lady 
 Luck had realized the flavor of the false nectar 
 the cash reserve had dwindled to a measly zero. 
 He stood blinking at the paying teller's window. 
 "Us aint got no mo' money?" 
 
 "No more. The account is closed." 
 
 "Cap'n suh, you means I'se done?" 
 
LILY 121 
 
 "You're done." 
 
 "Come on, Lily. De boys is waitin'." 
 
 The prowler climbed into his hot-house car. 
 "Go back whah at de boys is," he ordered. Mid 
 way of the journey, remembering a detail of the 
 technique of financial recuperation he changed 
 his orders. "Drive to de auto'beel place. Us 
 gwine sell dis ol j hot-house trap. Some day us 
 gits a gran' size one." 
 
 A quick sale netted a hundred dollars. For 
 Lily's watch and his own the Wildcat reaped 
 another twenty. On foot he hurried back to the 
 place where half a dozen crap games languidly 
 awaited the coming of the treasury department. 
 Perspiring under the buttoned coat which hid 
 the place where the gaudy watch chain had 
 dangled, swinging the gold headed cane with the 
 old royal gesture, the Wildcat faced his guests. 
 Thirteen seconds later the hundred and twenty 
 was loaned to a careless devotee of the freckled 
 risk cubes. 
 
 Lady Luck whispered low and earnestly. 
 "Beat it." 
 
 "I'se on my way." 
 
 Silently and without parade the Wildcat slid 
 through the back door of the New Home res 
 taurant. 
 
122 LILY 
 
 At evening, well into the country north of 
 town, with the long shadows sneaking across the 
 fields and bulking black in the depths of a wood 
 which lined the road, the Wildcat realized that 
 he had lived his little day of wealth. "Us went 
 some whilst de joy road was open." 
 
 Detouring around a graveyard he summoned 
 his mascot goat beside him. "Git close heah, 
 Lily. Some varmint git you some day. Shake 
 dem feet. Us is Memphis bound." 
 
 A rabbit in a clover patch dodged the gold 
 headed cane. "Goodbye, brekfus'. Almos' et 
 you, ol' cottontail." 
 
 The breakfast craver started to retrieve his 
 cane. He took ten steps and stopped. Then he 
 turned again to the long road. "Don' crave dat 
 oP cane. Minds me o' dem days when us wuz 
 rich an' loaded down wid mis'ry. Us is happy 
 now, Lily, eats when we kin git it, sleeps mos j 
 all de time, us don't give a doggone if de sun 
 don't neveh shine." 
 
 Tramping along at her master's side, nibbling 
 delicately on the remains of her straw hat, Lily 
 answered, and now, in the mascot's voice, there 
 was nothing of doubt. "Blaa-a! Me an' you 
 both, Wildcat." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE Wildcat, carrying double, lifted his 
 fiddling feet and let Lady Luck aim them 
 at whatever road she pleased as long as 
 it was Memphis bound. 
 
 In the frost of early morning he trod agile, to 
 hear him tell it. Just then, to his burden of 
 duplex ambitions, a persimmon tree, branching 
 against the horizon up ahead, served as an added 
 incentive to speed. Three hundred miles south 
 of Memphis, and several meals behind his ra 
 tion schedule, he carried twin cravings. One was 
 named Memphis and the other Cap'n Jack. 
 "Neveh leave each does us meet up wid 'em 
 again." 
 
 He sighted the persimmon tree and its break 
 fast message. He issued a sharp command to 
 his mascot goat marching behind him. "Hot 
 foot, Lily! Double time dem hind laigs. 
 Brekfus' table waitin'. Step wid de music!" 
 
 He supplied the music, bending Sis' Eliza an' 
 de Talkin' Gin to his persimmon ambition : 
 
 123 
 
124 LILY 
 
 Sis' Eliza had a husban' whut acted like a lamb, 
 Handed her his wages ev'ry pay-day night. 
 Kept a workin' steady 'till his job went BAM! 
 E-liza's husban's job was haulm' nervous dynamite. 
 
 Sky-bound, headed fo' de promis' land, 
 Sky-bound, "Saint Peter, I shoots you fo' de key." 
 Sky-bound, wid a lily in each hand, 
 Sky-bound, Peter tol' him, "Don't you botheh me." 
 
 The marching pair arrived at the breakfast 
 tree and Sis' Eliza was dismissed. "Goat, rally 
 roun' grass an' see kin you pos'pone starvin' to 
 death whilst I 'sorbs dese p'simmons de good 
 Lawd done sent. . . . Whuff! Whut you 
 craves depends on who you is ... Whuff! 
 Bes' p'simmons I ever did see. Big as chilblains. 
 Jes' like 'em. B'longs to who gits 'em an' swells 
 biggest when de frost hits 'em." 
 
 He began to bust all established records for 
 persimmon eating. At first he stood erect under 
 the tree, stooping to reap his yellow breakfast, 
 and then, with the weight of half the crop heavy 
 within him, he crawled westward across the 
 frosted grass, eating as he went. He reached 
 the margin of the food-bearing area and began 
 cutting a sunbound swath along the back trail. 
 When the shadow of his devastating progress lay 
 
LILY 125 
 
 like a band of gray across the orange-blotched 
 circle under the trees he again stood upright. 
 "Whuff! Dat's de nobles' brekfus' I'se et since 
 de stevedo' shock troops surrend'd de groceries 
 in de battle of Vin Blank." 
 
 He called to his mascot goat. "Lily, is you 
 etyo' full ration?' 
 
 Lily, leaning heavily against the briers of a 
 blackberry bush, managed to emit an affirmative 
 reply that had its origin near the center of a 
 bushel of grass. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 "Come on den, you fo' legged lawn-mower. 
 Ain't no finger bowls on dis table. Git marchin'. 
 Us is Memphis bound whah at ol' Cap'n Jack 
 is waitin' an' a-cussin' his prodigal nigger." 
 
 In the grateful morning sunlight the Wildcat 
 resumed his northbound prowl. A little ahead 
 of him the grass-gorged mascot lolled along in 
 slow time with the droning exposure of poor 
 Sis' Eliza's troubles with the Talkin' Gin. 
 
 De dynamite wuz early, Eliza's man wuz late, 
 
 Now he's Heaven-bound in pieces on de angel's freight. 
 
 Sis' Eliza weep an' wail fo' goin' on a week, 
 Mournin' wid her grievin' eyes, a-startin' in to pine. 
 Preacheh come a-prowlin' 'roun', comfortin' de meek, 
 Laborin' in de vineyard wid de clingin' vine. 
 
126 LILY 
 
 Preacheh stayed fo' supper ev'y now an' den, 
 
 Smack his lips "De good Lawd He said "Feed my 
 
 lamb" 
 
 Chickens kep' a-dwindlin' in de widder's pen, 
 Eliza craved religion so she didn't give a damn. 
 
 The mascot goat began to punctuate her mas 
 ter's song with an occasional detour toward little 
 clumps of roadside grass. "Goat, you sho' is de 
 digestinist varmint in de worl'. Did a sugar 
 mill see you, oP mill say, 'Take de cane, I'se 
 marked fatigue.' Did you eat trees de sawmill 
 men git a lifetime furlough." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily agreed as well as she could 
 with a grass-cluttered set of vocal organs, munch 
 ing in time with the Talkin' Gin chorus : 
 
 Saint Peter say, "You looks all mussed." 
 "I'se been dat way since de dynamite bust." 
 
 Eliza set a bilin' kittle on de fire, 
 Filled it up wid juniper an' sassafrass mash, 
 Aimed to give a ruckus fo' de preacheh an' de choir, 
 Preacheh say, "Jes' you an' me, fo'git dem trash." 
 
 Sis' Eliza started ladlin' out de homemade gin, 
 "Whuff! Ol' preacheh smack his drippin's lips to thank 
 
 Sis' Liz, 
 
 Den his feet dey got to itchin', "Dancin' ain't no sin," 
 Crack his heels togetheh once an' up he riz. 
 
LILY 127 
 
 "Goat, halt! At ease. Unwrap dat mil'tary 
 bearin' f'm 'round yo'se'f. At res' whilst I sees 
 is dese pussonal feet still 'quipped wid shufflin' 
 brains." 
 
 In the dust of the roadway, while Lily and an 
 imaginary audience consisting of Sis' Liz and 
 de oP preacheh burned with envy, the Wildcat 
 sat down and removed his shoes. Then he took 
 his feet for a dog walk. "Dey remembeh !" The 
 dancer started slow, announcing each measure to 
 his audience. "De Rabbit Prowl . . . rabbit 
 hears de houn's bayin' . . . rabbit climbs de tall 
 timber . . . coon on de lo' limb . . . Bam! 
 OP coon hits de groun' . . . rabbit keeps 
 a-climbin' . . . pole-cat restin' hisse'f on de mid 
 dle limb . . . Ker-bam ! OP pole-cat splashes 
 heavy in de dismal swamp . . . rabbit keeps a 
 climbin' . . . Grizzle bear on de top limb. . . 
 Bam-lam-boom ! . . . Grizzle bear squashes all 
 de houn' dawgs when he hits de groun' . . . de 
 Rabbit Dive . . . kick oP grizzle bear in de 
 face, fo' time lef' and fo' time right " 
 
 "Wham-lawdy ! How come!" The dance 
 was abruptly ended on the third kick to star 
 board. Heralded by a grunt of pain the Wild 
 cat emerged from the center of a dust cloud which 
 had veiled his violent exhibition, hopping on 
 
128 LILY 
 
 one foot and holding the other in both hands. 
 'Toot, you foun' sumpthin' you didn't lose." 
 Sideways, out of his eyes, the foot-holder squinted 
 to see how many toes were missing. He found 
 the toe detail present in full strength. Gratified, 
 he put on his shoes. "Serves me right. Folks 
 whut is got shoes gin' ally wears J em, 'less dey is 
 'flicted wid de brain feebles. . . . Whut de man 
 mean, leavin' a oP anvil layin' in de road 4 ?" 
 He clawed around in the dust which had been 
 his dancing stage, searching for the anvil. "Well, 
 I be dog! Lily, look heah. Ain't no anvil, 
 nuthin' but a oP mule-shoe. Sho' had de mule 
 kick, might knowed dey wuz mule grief some 
 place in dat toe mis'ry. Mule shoe, howdy, an' 
 goodbye. Fare thee well!" He cast the iron 
 shoe as far as he could, over into a clump of 
 brush. Before he resumed his march he ad 
 dressed his imaginary audience: "Preacheh, you 
 win de dance contes'. Horse-shoe shows where 
 Lady Luck been, mule-shoe marks de devil's 
 road. Git to dancin', preacheh, befo' you feet 
 gits A. W. O. L." 
 
 Preacheh got to dancin' an' he went hog wild, 
 
 Got to goin' noble an' started in to yell; 
 
 "Sis' Eliza fill de dipper f o' yo' angel child ! 
 
 I craves my wine an' wimmen, an' dey ain't no hell!" 
 
LILY 129 
 
 Hell-bound, on de primrose road, 
 One-horse sinner wid a two-horse load. 
 
 Preacheh was a-dancin' fo'-'leven-fo'ty-fo', 
 
 "Watch dis foot-loose demon whirlin' 'roun you, Liza 
 
 Liz !" 
 
 Right when he wuz steamin* come a knockin' at de door, 
 Preacheh stopped like he wuz hit wid lightnin' room- 
 
 a-tiz. 
 
 "Lily, I bet dat ol' preacheh felt like my foot 
 when it got de howdy-doo to de mule-shoe . . . 
 see kin I limp some . . . ol' Cap'n Jack see me 
 limpin' he say 'Wilecat, quit dat limpin' befo' I 
 kicks you loose f'm yo' pussonal 'natomy whut 
 kaint limp 'less you hiccough.' 
 
 Sky-bound, fo' his home on high, 
 Sky-bound, with a feather in each han', 
 Sky-bound, jes' beginnin' to fly, 
 Sky-bound, grazin de promis' land. 
 
 "Who dat?" Eliza holler. "Who beatin' on dat door?" 
 A dwindlin' voice come soundin' f'm de night, 
 "Liza, dis yo' husban'. Ain't gwine to leave no mo*. 
 I win dat wrasslin' battle wid de dynamite." 
 
 Ol' preacheh started leavin' he busted through de wall, 
 Whilst Eliza opened up de cabin door 
 A-lookin' and a-callin', never seed no one at all 
 Den she throwed a 'niption fit across de floor. 
 
130 LILY 
 
 Sky-bound, hear de angels sing, 
 Sky-bound, kaint hear anything. 
 
 De preacheh still a-gallopin' de sinful road, 
 
 Sis' Eliza she repented loose a load of sin, 
 
 Said she'd a-backslid mighty light if she'd a-knowed 
 
 De ruin dat wuz brewin' in dat talkin' gin. 
 
 "Goat, dat's all. Dat learns you never to 
 pester wid dynamite. Gin ain't so bad 'less you 
 gits reckless an' tries to swim upstream in Gin 
 River. Float wid de current but look out fo ? 
 de big eddies whut drags you undeh. . . . Dog 
 gone, I sho' craves to git wid Cap'n Jack, 'spe 
 cially now dat de winter weatheh is so ravagin' 
 in de land." 
 
 By the time night had fallen the craver and 
 his mascot goat were about twelve miles nearer 
 Captain Jack than they had been that morn 
 ing. Lying down in the frosts of evening and 
 trying to sleep didn't make any gilt-spangled 
 appeal and so the hungry pair continued their 
 march throughout the night. 
 
 At dawn the Wildcat sought a sun-swept 
 gully a little off the road'. There, protected 
 from the chill wind he curled up with Lily beside 
 him and snored himself forty miles away from 
 mule-shoe luck. "Same as de A. E. F. 'ceptin' 
 
LILY 131 
 
 cooties an' rations. Hot dam, Lily, whah at 
 is de oP mess sergeant? Whah at is Lady Luck? 
 Git to sleep, goat. Say yo' prayers dat Lady 
 Luck don't rush past us does she come dis way." 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 NORTHBOUND and acutely conscious 
 of an empty stomach that for two days 
 had been as useless as a stakeholder in 
 a crap game, the Wildcat welcomed a trio of 
 church steeples rising against the horizon before 
 him. "Hot foot, Lily! Whah dey's chu'ches 
 dey's a town an' whah dey's a town us gits a 
 job. Craves me a job. Kaint eat 'less us works, 
 kaint eat steady. Eatin' ain't nothin' 'less 
 it's de steady kind. I had enough temp'rary now. 
 an' -den rations in de A. E. F. to las' me till ol' 
 Gabriel sputters de las' 'sembly in de brass hawn 
 on high. . . . Double-time yo'se'f, goat! Lady 
 Luck likely waitin' whah you sees dem fac'try 
 chimblys again de sky, behin' dem chu'ches. Us 
 is luck bound! Ramble!" 
 
 Near the edge of the town, almost smelling 
 the gravy, the Wildcat stepped out at a five- 
 mile pace. Lily, trotting along behind him, 
 heard her master mask his appetite in a thin veil 
 of song: 
 
 132 
 
LILY 133 
 
 "Luck bound, on mah fiddlin' feet, 
 "Luck bound, an' a-craving to eat, 
 Luck bound, whah de rations wait, 
 I'se luck bound at a gallopin* gait." 
 
 At the edge of town the singer growled an 
 order toward his mascot. "Slack up yo' gallop, 
 Lily. Slow down befo' some deppity marshal 
 thinks us is runnin' away f'm whah dey is some 
 body dat los' something whut wuz took." 
 
 Rich in experience the Wildcat passed the 
 churches and the residence district of the little 
 town without halting. He hesitated for half a 
 minute before a little restaurant on the main 
 street and then, without stopping, resumed his 
 course. "Dat grub smell jes' like heaven! 
 Drives me like de long lash leather burnin' mule 
 hide. Come on heah, goat, to whah de work is 
 waitin' ! Kaint buy no rations wid talk. Fo' 
 bits do mo' talkin' wid de res' rant man dan all 
 de whut-you-wuz words in de world." 
 
 He plodded down the streets of the town until 
 the substantial buildings had given place to the 
 broken residences of the poorer element of the 
 community and presently the gate of a stockade 
 surrounding a sugar refinery confronted him. 
 He addressed the watchman at the gate. "I'se 
 
134 
 
 lookin' fo' a job. Whah at is de man whut hires 
 de hands?" 
 
 The watchman discouraged him. "Ain't hir- 
 in' no hands." 
 
 The Wildcat looked hard at the watchman arid 
 by reason of a similarity of complexions, ven 
 tured some more language. "Boy, don't tell me 
 no ain'ts. I'se so hungry I'se fish-deaf when de 
 ain'ts is spoke. I ax you, whah at is de man?" 
 
 The watchman conceded a point. "You finds 
 him in de li'l shack by de boilin' mill. Dat's de 
 office. Walk in does you crave to. All I tells 
 you is double up so you won't land so heavy 
 when you gits thro wed out." 
 
 The Wildcat walked to the office shack and 
 entered it. A moment later he faced the super 
 intendent of the sugar mill. "Cap'n suh, me 
 an' Lily craves a job o' work so us kin eat." 
 A gentle gesture with the hand that held his hat 
 indicated the mascot goat. 
 
 "Who is Lily?" 
 
 "Dis heah goat. Luck mascot. Whaheveh 
 Lily is oP Lady Luck gwine come prowlin' soon 
 o' late." 
 
 The superintendent was no more superstitious 
 than the average man who dodges ladders and 
 picks up pins and avoids Friday thirteens, but 
 
LILY 135 
 
 the sugar market was feeble and he couldn't 
 afford to take a chance with his luck. The Wild 
 cat had him hooked. "What can you do^" 
 
 "Cap'n suh, mos' any liftin' jobs, up or down, 
 or workin' wid a shovel. I'se good wid animils 
 an' mules. Mules I reg'lates. I rules mules. I 
 knows some 'bout machinery, shovel in' coal an' 
 on an' off wid wateh valves. Steam valves I 
 ain't learned. Place gits cloudy so quick when 
 steam busts dat a boy kaint think jes' which." 
 
 "Come with me. Three dollars a day." 
 
 "Cap'n suh, you means I'se hired*?" 
 
 "You're hired. Come on here." 
 
 "Hot dam! Come 'long, Lily, to whah Lady 
 Luck is waitin' ! Foller de Cap'n an' tread gentle 
 befo' I knocks you nine miles f'm pay-day." 
 
 Following the guide toward the meeting point 
 with Lady Luck the Wildcat and Lily walked 
 from the office and crossed a hundred foot open 
 space to a tall wooden building which looked 
 old and tired, and which housed a battery of six 
 huge molasses storage tanks. Inside the build 
 ing he became conscious of the humming of a 
 myriad idle flies, noting that an equal number 
 were silent at their feasting. He mounted a 
 narrow stairway leading to a platform thirty 
 feet above ground level. Here, standing before 
 
13$ LILY 
 
 an intricate system of pipes and valves and bat 
 ting at a cloud of buzzing flies, he listened to 
 orders. 
 
 "These six valves painted red are the molasses 
 feed- valves in the pipe lines that fill the six 
 wooden tanks below us. The numbers show you 
 which is which, tanks numbered the same way 
 on those boards nailed to the staves. Number 
 Four is feeding now. Takes about an hour to 
 fill a tank. When the molasses gets to the red 
 danger-mark, you can see it painted there, 
 shut off the feed-valve and fill the next tank. 
 By the time Number Six is filled Number One 
 ought to be empty. That's all. You know how 
 to work it?" 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh! Sho' do!" With his ap 
 petite dictating the text of his reply the Wildcat 
 would have taken a chance on operating an air 
 plane and a submarine with his right hand while 
 juggling the Theory of Relativity with his left, 
 if success had meant hoe cake and ham gravy. 
 "Cap'n suh, you say dat pourin' out stuff is 
 'lasses?" 
 
 "That's it." The superintendent called down 
 to a man standing in the web of the piping sys 
 tem below. "Stay with those outlet valves now, 
 Demmy. New boy handling the overhead feed 
 
LILY 137 
 
 up here." He turned to the Wildcat for a final 
 word. "Your shift is twelve hours on, ends 
 at midnight; begins at noon. Two whistles." 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh." Just then the working shift 
 might have been as continuous as human sin with 
 out having much effect on the Wildcat's im 
 mediate future. What he wanted most at that 
 moment was to be left alone with his work, for 
 here was a job a boy could eat. "Bettxh dan a 
 res' rant job. Nobody kin count 'lasses. Neveh 
 miss a few 'lasses wid so many on hand. . . . 
 Stan' back f'm de edge, Lily, befo' us has to 
 strain you out wid de res' of de flies." 
 
 Five seconds after the superintendent disap 
 peared down the stairway the Wildcat reached a 
 cupped hand under the surface of the dark liquid 
 in tank Number Three. "Whuff ! Sho' is noble ! 
 Bes' long sweetnin' us eveh et !" 
 
 Feed me now while I still can chew 
 Don't pos'pone it till it's overdue. 
 
 Boon me wid flowers, but boon me while I still kin smell, 
 Boon me wid rations, boon me while I still kin eat, 
 Boon me wid raiment, don't need no heavy clothes in 
 
 hell, 
 Boon me wid likker, but boon me while de gin tastes 
 
 sweet. 
 
138 LILY 
 
 After ten minutes steady dipping he summoned 
 the mascot. "Goat, come heah an' git yo' drip- 
 pin's f'm Lady Luck's skillet." He called again, 
 but Lily was engaged in eating eight feet of mo 
 lasses soaked waste which she was unwrapping 
 from around a leaking valve stem. "Suit yo'se'f. 
 Eat m' chine ry does you crave it. As fo j me, 
 de long sweetnin' is mah pussonal fail in' ! 
 Whuff!" 
 
 With the edge of his appetite dulled by half 
 a gallon of warm molasses the Wildcat remem 
 bered the rudiments of his technical obligation. 
 He walked over to Number Four tank and 
 peered down into it. "Kaint see no red mark, 
 Lawd Gawd, mebbe de ol j red paint mark is 
 drownded!" He looked again at the level of the 
 viscous liquid in the tank and cast a glance side- 
 wise at the three filled tanks. "Looks de same 
 as de othehs. Whut dat white man say do, 
 shut dis off, turn dat one on, fo' down, off. 
 Five down, on. Dat's it! Sho' is! Us knows 
 dis on an' off bizness wid de pipes. Jes' like a 
 steamboat. Huh ! Us knows all about dis biz- 
 ness, all an' den some!" 
 
 Serene for the moment in the belief that there 
 was mighty little left for him to learn about the 
 tank filling profession the Wildcat indulged in a 
 
LILY 139 
 
 little vocal visiting. He called down into the 
 darkness. "Demmy, you dab?" 
 
 "Whah you spec' I is. Who is you, topside ?" 
 
 "I'se de handler whut runs dese mix-up pipe 
 things dat " 
 
 "Knows whut you is. I'se axin' who is you*?' 1 
 
 "Folks call me Wildcat . . . whut dat 
 'Demmy' name mean, Demmy-john o j Demmy- 
 crat? Dat yo' police name o' yo' votin' name 4 ?" 
 
 "Whut I goes by. Used to run dinin' car till 
 I strained mahse'f. .Folks called me Demmy 
 Tass 'count I neveh got mah full growth." 
 
 "Whut you mean strained yo'se'f *?" 
 
 "Eatin' so heavy. Had to quit an' git 'way 
 f m so close to de grub." 
 
 "You ain't fur f'm grub now. Dis long 
 sweetnin's de bes' rations I'se et fo' many a 
 day." 
 
 "Wilecat, don't eat dat stuff! Dem 'lasses is 
 half sour now an' does dey hold 'em one mo' 
 night dey foments so much de flies gits staggerin' 
 drunk f'm de smell alone. Leave dat long 
 sweetnin' go 'less you craves de stummick 
 mis'ry." 
 
 "Demmy, dey's two kinds, de full mis'ry an' 
 de vacant. Rich folks has de full stummick 
 mis'ry an' de poor has de otheh kind. How 
 
HO LILY 
 
 come de flies git so drunk? Is dis stuff got 
 somethin' in it whut keeps it f'm gittin' lone 
 some ?" 
 
 "Sho' has when she gits oP an vig'rous. Dey 
 makes rum f m 'lasses, folks whut kin wait dat 
 long. Me, I drinks mah vigor whilst it's still 
 mah size. Drink dis 'lasses afteh it fo'ments 
 long 'miff an' de fust thing you heah's de judge 
 sayin' 'Six months an' leave de hardware on 
 him.' " 
 
 "No judge ain't said nuthin' to me fo' de 
 longes' time, I don't crave to hear none. Ain't 
 dey a place in dis town whah a boy kin git 
 some tame likker?" 
 
 "Sev'al. Dey is in all towns. Thought 
 you wuz bust, talkin' dat hungry talk all de 
 
 time." 
 
 "I is. Aims to build up though. Craves mos' 
 to git on my way to Memphis whah oP Cap'n 
 Jack is waitin' but a ra'r of likker now an' then 
 might help me beah my cross." 
 ^ "Who dis Cap'n Jack?" 
 
 "He's mah white folks. You mus' a-knowed 
 'bout him. Won de wah in de A. E. F. agin' dem 
 German boys." 
 
 "Win it single-handed?" 
 
 "Single-handed 'ceptin' us shock troops in de 
 
 
LILY 141 
 
 Fust Service Battalion an' dem Eighteenth 
 Engineer boys an 5 Lootenant Hudson." 
 
 "Heard 'bout you. You is de troops whut 
 run dem Germans to death, leadin' 'em. You 
 sho' covered de groun' when you got goin'.' J 
 
 "Demmy, you talks like dem flyin' squab boys 
 tellin' de quart'masteh how much groceries a hero 
 needs. But I fo'gits an j fo'gives. Wah is done 
 now, an' us won it. Dat's all." 
 
 "Whut you mean, won it*?" 
 
 "Still got it, ain't we? No likker, no work, 
 no money, no boonus, no rations, an' only half 
 clo'es enough to hoi' de buttons. Dat's hell, 
 ain't it? So is wah. If anybody win it us 
 did. Hope us lose it some day." 
 
 "Good times comin'." 
 
 "Goin', you means. Demmy, you is twisted 
 an' headed backwa'ds. I'se lookin' at to-day, 
 
 an' tomorr'.' 
 
 "Wilecat, dem 'lasses you et is soured you. 
 Yo' nach'ral sweetness is fo'mented. Betteh git 
 on dat Numbeh Six tank, only takes a hour to 
 fill each tank. Wait 'till us quits to-night an* 
 I leads you to a place whah you gits real grub 
 an' mebbe a ra'r of real likker." 
 
 "Demmy, you sounds like heaven. Gam'lin* 
 too?" 
 
142 LILY 
 
 "Some, in case you is 'flicted wid de bone 
 cravinV 
 
 "Whut you think I means, dis heah boy -size 
 gam' 1 in wid spinnin' tops whut says grab o' do 
 nate 4 ? Huh! All right fo' folks whut kaint 
 read but when us trails Lady Luck us craves 
 action. Don't want no tilly winks pesterin' me. 
 Don't want nothin' spinnin' 'roun' whilst I drops 
 dead wid anxious heart disease. Bam! Read 
 an' repeat. Fire an' fall back. Dat's me." 
 
 "Wilecat, dem words goes double! Me an j 
 you each. De bones speaks de verdick long be- 
 fo' dem tops quits spinnin' an' stutterin' like dese 
 pledge-signin' boys sayin' yes to a gin ruckus in 
 vite. Boy, to-night I leads you f'm de straight 
 an' narrow to de wide an' pleasant." 
 
 "You soun's noble. Preacheh say de way of 
 de progressor is hard surfaced, us mebbe makes 
 some speed when us gits off dis long grief lane." 
 
 The Wildcat turned to his work. He fumbled 
 around with the feed valve to Number Six tank 
 and when the stream of heavy liquid was pitching 
 downward into the black depths of the tank he 
 relaxed his attention to duty long enough to eat 
 another quart of slightly fermented molasses. 
 
 The six tanks were connected at the level of 
 the red danger marks by eight-inch overflow pipes 
 
LILY 143 
 
 which limited the liquid level as long as any one 
 of the tanks was not filled. On a narrow plank 
 running from one of these short connecting pipes 
 to the edge of the operating platform the Wildcat 
 sat for half an hour, dipping down and hoisting his 
 dripping cargo to his wide mouth. After a while, 
 temporarily gorged to flood stage, he slacked up. 
 In two minutes his head was nodding and he was 
 asleep. Twice he rolled dangerously near the 
 point beyond which recovery of his equilibrium 
 was impossible and then the sub-conscious mir 
 acles ceased and in his sleep he stretched full 
 length along the narrow plank that bridged a 
 gulf almost entirely surrounded by luke-warm 
 molasses. 
 
 Meanwhile, a little apart from the sleeping 
 valve-tender, Lily and Number Six tank were 
 filling up the best they knew how without the 
 Wildcat's pussonal supervision. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 AT sundown, while the Wildcat slept, 
 Demmy ducked out of the tank house 
 and headed for a loose board in the 
 stockade fence. Stealth marked his movements. 
 He slid through the narrow opening in the fence 
 and then, like an elusive black shadow, he prowled 
 d^wn along an eroded gully which led to the 
 back door of a dilapidated house whose com 
 panion structures lifted their broken fronts along 
 the staggering boundary of a crooked street. At 
 a door opening into the basement of the house 
 three steps below ground line, he knocked the 
 two-one-four signal which announced the arrival 
 of one to whom the ritual of admission was old 
 stuff. 
 
 A moment later the blue calico curtain behind 
 a small glass panel was drawn to one side. "It's 
 Demmy," the visitor whispered. "Leave me in." 
 
 The dpor opened and the sawed-off brunet 
 dived into the darkness of the basement. He 
 
 144 
 
LILY 145 
 
 walked ten feet in the darkness and then two 
 heavy curtains in front of him opened upon a 
 dimly lighted room twenty feet square. The air 
 of the room was soggy with the gases trailing 
 from a score of semi-fireproof cigars and under 
 this odor of burning vegetation was the sour 
 scent of alcohol and the acrid tang common to 
 packed and perspiring humanity. 
 
 The newcomer twisted his way between three 
 groups of players seated around card tables and 
 found the man he sought, back of a semi-circular 
 green table. On the felt-covered top a pair of 
 active dice galloped around with the latest bul 
 letins from Lady Luck's headquarters. 
 
 Demmy waited until the bank collected on a 
 delayed seven and then spoke to the banker. 
 "Sledge, come wid me to de li'l room a minit. 
 Us has bizness." 
 
 The banker was quick to obey the summons. 
 He turned the game over to a Friday-hand and 
 followed Demmy into a smaller room opening 
 from the main pasture of chance. "Whut you 
 want?" 
 
 "They's a new boy on de top valves." Demmy 
 hesitated long enough for this news to hit the 
 target. "Looks like a quick-learnin' boy, Sledge. 
 M'ebbe I betteh bring him oveh heah to-night an' 
 
146 LILY 
 
 git him gentle an' wise befo' he 'vestigates 'roun* 
 an* finds dat inch pipe whut runs f'm de 'lassej 
 tanks to yo 5 'stillery room downstairs. Whut 
 you think T 
 
 "You is right, Demmy. Betteh bring him an' 
 show him de sights, bring 'em befo' dey comes 
 prowlin' is my motto. Whut kind is dis boy*" 
 
 "Memphis nigger. Name Wildcat. Fit in 
 de war, but 'ceptin' fo' dat he seems bright." 
 
 "Fetch him heah at nine o'clock." 
 
 "Us comes at nine. An' Sledge, mebbe you 
 betteh have some grub an' a ra'r of de home 
 made hootch waitin' to say howdy-doo. Boy 
 ain't et lately an' he gits fren'ly when de rations 
 is donated." 
 
 "Rations is comin' up. An' all de likker he 
 kin handle." The moonshining host stripped a 
 banknote from his roll. "Heah, Demmy, lend 
 him dis five dollah bill so he kin take a bite at de 
 relief c'mittee wid de square teeth. Dat's all 
 right, dem fust-aid cubes pays me back. Likely 
 be a big game to-night. Big gang comin', 
 'nitiation night fo' de colored Damons an' dey 
 gin' ally gits heah at ten o'clock fo' de final cer'- 
 monies. See you an' dis Wilecat boy at nine 
 o'clock. Sez goodnight 'till dat time." 
 
 Demmy slid out into the big room and from 
 
LILY 147 
 
 there into the night which veiled his journey 
 to the stockade fence. He wriggled through the 
 fence via the loose board route and walked si 
 lently to his post of duty. He entered the tank- 
 house in which three incandescents had bloomed 
 during his absence. 
 
 Then he became aware of a series of strange 
 noises originating above him. 
 
 The disturbance sounded to his quickened ears 
 like a vocal omelet of groans and bleats and 
 gurgles. He hesitated a moment and then as 
 quickly as his short legs would carry him he 
 mounted the narrow stairway and explored the 
 length of the operating platform that ranged the 
 open molasses tanks. 
 
 On the plank leading from the platform to 
 the connecting pipe between the third and fourth 
 tanks he saw the sleeping Wildcat, stretched at 
 full length and undulating to an accompaniment 
 of incoherent mumbling. The Wildcat's mouth 
 was open and as near as Demmy could make out 
 the mumbler was trying to gurgle the chorus from 
 the Madhouse Banquet song. 
 
 A moment later the muttering victim of luke 
 warm molasses was half awake and all ashore^ 
 sitting up on the platform near the control valves, 
 
 Demmy relaxed his grip on his companion. 
 
148 LILY 
 
 "Wake up, Wilecat ! Heah us is. Wake up, 
 you been ridin' a nightmare." 
 
 "How come! Whah at is us?' 
 
 "Heah you is. Dis is Demmy wid you. 
 You'se been dream in V J 
 
 "Wuz dat dreamin' . . . dream mah mascot 
 goat . . . was swimmin' . . . in de 'lasses riveh 
 . . . an' went oveh de falls an' . . .what dat!" 
 
 Sharply into the steady gurgling of the flow 
 ing molasses came Lily's voice. A single bleat, 
 eloquent with distress, fell on the listener's ears. 
 
 "Dat's Lily! Callin' me! Dat dream wuz 
 true, leggo, Demmy." 
 
 A moment later the searching pair found the 
 source of the S. O. S. in Tank Six. Riding a 
 submerged soap-box which she had carried over 
 the edge of the tank with her in her fall, Lily 
 drifted with the tide, submerged to the gills 
 in the heavy flood of sweet temptation. 
 
 "Blaa-a!" 
 
 Seeing the Wildcat's dim outline the drifting 
 mascot voiced an overwhelming vote against bulk 
 molasses. 
 
 "I'se comin'! Hang on, goat! Us gits you 
 de nex' time roun' !" 
 
 A moment later the drifter came within reach. 
 The Wildcat clutched at Lily's neck, lifted, 
 
LILY 149 
 
 grabbed the mascot's forelegs and hauled the drip 
 ping truant upward to the security of the plat 
 form. "Stan 5 still. Do yo' drippin' in one 
 place, goat, else us pays back all de woe you'se 
 'posited in de hell bank fo' de las' ten years!" 
 
 "Blaa-a! Heeet!" Lily apologized. Then 
 she sneezed and shook herself, one leg at a time, 
 losing weight, meanwhile, like a squeezed sponge. 
 
 She tried to mask her chagrin in a violent wag 
 ging of head and tail. 
 
 The Wildcat interpreted these contortions as 
 rank anarchy. "Shut up dem sass words, goat! 
 Come to ten-shun an' stick dere! Drip small 
 befo' I knocks you silo high an' swamp wide!" 
 
 Demmy, having retrieved the drifting soap 
 box, interrupted the chastening. "Lead dat 
 prong-head fly-bait down de stairs till us kin 
 run de wateh hose on him." He added some pro 
 fessional advice. "Betteh shut off Numbeh Six 
 an' start fillin' Numbeh One again." 
 
 The Wildcat spoke a sharp command to the 
 dripping mascot. "Ten-shun! As you is! 
 Let de 'lasses dribble till us gits back!" He 
 walked to the valve rack and altered the flow of 
 the supply stream as Demmy had advised. 
 Then, followed by his four-legged fly-lure he 
 marched downstairs to where Demmy had the 
 
150 LILY 
 
 water ready and waiting for the bath business. 
 
 "Stan' still, goat, 'till us baptizes you loose 
 f 'm dat sweet raiment. You sho' is de dis-reptile 
 lookinist varmint I eveh seed. Turn 'roun', 
 drippin' fool, whilst us gives you a mussage, an* 
 a nanny-cure wid dis gunny sack." 
 
 A little before nine o'clock the beauty treat 
 ment was completed except for a few areas of 
 matted goat hair in whose environment still oozed 
 enough molasses to create a weather-proof coat. 
 The discouraged Demmy called a halt. "Goats 
 is nach'ral born 'cumlators when it comes to 
 'lasses. Us an' de flies neveh kin git dis mascot 
 unwropped f'm dem 'lasses. Got to grow out 
 an' wear off. Dat takes time. Leave him be, 
 Wilecat. Us is due now fo' a visit to a house 
 down de gully. Dey's 'sprisin' ruckus waitin' 
 fo' us." 
 
 Demmy was a better prophet than he knew. 
 
 The Wildcat gave Lily some orders. "At 
 case! Walk yo' post whilst us sees is de 
 m'chinery runnin' right." He addressed Demmy. 
 "How long will us be gone away, Demmy *?" 
 
 "Midnight, mebbe. Us comes back ev'y hour 
 an' ranges de valves. Got to git back in time to 
 quit at midnight." 
 
 The Wildcat went above to the operating 
 
LILY 151 
 
 platform and when he returned Demmy handed 
 him the five-dollar bill which the moonshining 
 king of the gambling joint had provided for the 
 newman. "Heah's a stake fo' you, Wilecat, if 
 you craves to take a ra'r at de cube croquet in 
 de place whah us is gwine*?" 
 
 "Five dollahs! Demmy, how come! Boy, 
 dat sho' is de right han' of f ren'ship. Hot dam ! 
 Somethin' tells me dat's a big five. I'se had 
 money an' I'se lost it when de gallopers got 
 backslid but 'less dis bunch is lyin' dis is my 
 night. Us reaps! Reaps big, an' half whut 
 I gits is yo' reward fo' ketchin' dis five-spot." 
 
 Demmy, wise to the technical perfection of 
 Sledge's establishment, smiled a twisted and 
 skeptical smile at the Wildcat's enthusiastic as 
 surance. "Spec' us buys a house an' lot befo' 
 you gits done buildin' up f'm dat five dollah 
 start, Wilecat. Hope so, but mebbe not. 
 Bring dat goat an' le's go." 
 
 He led the way through the shadows to the 
 loose board in the stockade fence and a moment 
 later the trio were marching down the channel 
 of the gully which led to the back-door of the 
 theatre of action. The two-one-four knock 
 sounded on the door. Five seconds later the 
 door opened, narrowly, and then the Wildcat 
 
152 LILY 
 
 was being introduced to the proprietor of the 
 place. Before the ceremony had been completed 
 a plate of sandwiches appeared from some source 
 and into the Wildcat's free hand was thrust a 
 goblet filled with rum which had been made in 
 the sub-cellar of the Sledge establishment. "Cir 
 culate 'rounV Sledge invited. "Us hopes you an* 
 Demmy enjoys yo'se'f an 7 makes de place yo' 
 tem'prary stampin' groun," the host concluded. 
 
 "Sledge, sho j will! -Heah's howdy . . . 
 Whuff! Noble likker. Noble rations." Half 
 a sandwich disappeared into the Wildcat's mouth 
 and further talk was abandoned. "Don't aim to 
 let no howdy-doo gabblin' stop me an' dis grub 
 gittin' 'quainted. Col' pork an' good soggy 
 bread! Gran' likker! Lady Luck, keep yo' 
 heaven!" 
 
 During the next five minutes all the sandr 
 wiches and two more goblets of rum were added 
 to the Wildcat's cargo. He molded his mouth 
 back into place with the back of his hand. 
 "Demmy, dis a gran' place to be. Dat Sledge 
 man seems real fren'ly." 
 
 "Sho' is," Demmy agreed. "You crave some 
 mo' likker an' grub, Wilecat*? You kin git all 
 you wants." 
 
 "Demmy, I sez yes, but at de present rmnnit 
 
LILY 153 
 
 dis pussonal stummick I'se 'quipped wid sez no 
 right to mah face.' 1 
 
 "Leave it rest. De deep dish banquit com 
 mences in half hour anyway, begins right afteh 
 de Unifawm Guards gits heah." 
 
 "How come, guards?" 
 
 "Sons o' Damon. Lodge boys. Dis is de 
 'nitiation night an' dey give de Social Degree 
 heah at Sledge's place. Gran' rally. You meets 
 de real folks. Dey's seven can'dates whut gits 
 de 'Steemed Yaller Sash to-night. . . . Lily! 
 Whut dat goat eatin' !" 
 
 The mascot, having finished the bread-crusts 
 from the last four sandwiches which the Wild 
 cat had eaten, had cast her eyes around in search 
 of casual amusement until, at the level of her 
 nose, crimped between a card-player's leg and the 
 chair seat, she had discovered two idle bits of 
 pasteboard. When Demmy saw her the final 
 fragments of the second ace were being munched 
 into pulp. 
 
 Demmy handed out some low-pitched advice. 
 "Wilecat, 'strain dat goat. Does he eat ev' 
 helpin' card he sees he is likely git into bad 
 trouble. Some man need an extry ace an' find 
 out dat goat et it dey might be blades wavin' 
 befo' you 'splained it." 
 
154 L I L Y 
 
 "Lily, rally 'way back ! Goat, one mo j stumble 
 on dis sin road you is travellin' an 1 you falls 
 hard. Whut you mean, s'questerin' dat card! 
 Stan' heah befo' us knocks you loose m de rest 
 o j dem 'lasses." 
 
 To his guide the Wildcat made apologies for 
 his mascot's conduct. "Lily ain't learned no 
 betteh, started wid a ahmy trainin' an' neveh 
 had a chance to repent an' sin no mo'." 
 
 "Dat's all right, Wilecat, only you betteh 
 keep de eagle eye on dat animil befo' he eats up 
 a card some man needs real bad . . . 'muse yo'- 
 se'f 'till I gits back. Got to see is de ol' 'lasses 
 valves doin' all right. I 'tends de top side fo' 
 you whilst I'se gone. Stay heah an' do yo'se'f 
 proud." 
 
 "Sho' will. Lily, come wid me." He edged 
 toward the crap table behind which Sledge was 
 banking the house bets. At the table he greeted 
 the fringe of ivory hunters. "Men, howdy." 
 He fished for his five-dollar bill. Finding it he 
 broke out with an acute attack of spotted fever. 
 Impatient, he waited until the orphan cubes 
 yearned for a step-father. "Pass us dem limpin' 
 leopards 'till dey learns who is de spot-changin' 
 lion tamer. Major babies, meet yo' gin'ral. 
 Beef bones, de butcher is whettiri' de knife. 
 
LILYi 155 
 
 Sledge, I'se got five dollahs an' de hook feels de 
 bait. Shoots de five!" 
 
 "Wilecat, you soun's ol' time. You is faded 
 an' I hopes you win. Unravel yo' luck." The 
 banker, needing the Wildcat's favor in the dis 
 tillery department, meant what he said. "Roll 
 'em!" 
 
 "Whuff! An' I reads, five-dooce! Jitney 
 an' twins. Lets it ride. Shoots de Ten-o-see. 
 I'se a five passin' fool an' de money clock sez 
 one. . . . Funeral bones, slow but sure! An' 
 howdy-doo six-ace. Half a jury an' de ol' judge. 
 . . . Sledge, dat's two an' dey's three mo' passes 
 nes'lin' in mah han'. Shoots de twenty. Fade 
 me an' weigh less." 
 
 "Bank fades you. Pull de trigger." 
 
 "Bam! An' I sees, 'leven f'm heaven! 
 Short an' painless, like a wooden laig. Dat's 
 forty an' I lets it sleep. Shoots de forty, wid 
 two passes hatchin' de money eggs." 
 
 The smile was fixed on the banker's face but 
 his reply assumed the brevity from which the 
 honey of courtesy had ceased to drip. "Roll 
 
 'em." 
 
 To his aid the Wildcat summoned the rudi- 
 
 iments of an education received at the hands of 
 
 an uncle whose technical perfection with twin 
 
156 LILY 
 
 dice had finally resulted in a meeting of the 
 creditors where the expert's remains were viewed 
 and cursed by one and all after being marked 
 "Perishable. Rush. Use no Hooks." 
 
 "Dixie dice, drip yo' money dew. Green hay, 
 de harves' man is got you. Wham! ... an* 
 Li'l Joe leads de quartet. Hot dam ! Joe, you 
 'members who fed you. Re-turn back on fo' 
 wheels. Whuff! Dat's nine ... an' eight. 
 Dice, git small. I reads five . . . an' dey sez six 
 ... an' ten. Craves double twins. Lady Luck, 
 whah at is you ... an' I reads dooce an' dooce ! 
 Lady Luck sho' got ears. Dat's eighty on de 
 table an' I shoots it all. Fade eighty an' lock 
 de safe ! Shoots eighty dollahs." 
 
 Nobody ever made five passes with the house 
 dice. "Roll 'em!" Sledge sensed a profitable 
 conclusion to the Wildcat's run of luck. "Roll 
 'em, an' us ships de fragments to yo' next o' 
 kin." 
 
 "Baby money, nutrify an' grow big. Ice dice, 
 melt an' shower down. Wham! Read de top 
 sides an' you reads . . . six-ace! Dat's five 
 passes. Drags down. Shoots a hund'ed. Fade 
 me, is you " 
 
 "Heah's de Damons," Sledge interrupted. 
 
LILY 157 
 
 "Pos'pone dis a minnit, Wilecat." The banker 
 was glad of the opportune alibi. He circulated 
 around as long as he could, hoping to sidetrack 
 the Wildcat, but when he returned to the crap 
 table he noted with deep disgust that the victim 
 in the recent session had held his place. 
 
 Submerged in the crowd, Sledge saw Demmy, 
 who had returned from his momentary attention 
 to the valves in the molasses tank-house. He 
 summoned the sawed-off individual to the little 
 room. "Demmy, who is dis Wilecat boy?" he 
 whispered his question. 
 
 "Sledge, ask me! Neveh seed dat boy befo' 
 noon to-day. Been watchin' him ramble. Right 
 agile wid de clickers." 
 
 "You neveh seed him befo' noon . . . 
 Boy, 'less he changes you ain't gwine see him much 
 afteh midnight. Bizness is business an' fren's 
 is fren's, Demmy, but de way he's travellin' I 
 betteh give him de place an' git me a pay-day 
 job. You brung him heah, betteh git him out. 
 All de 'lasses whut runs into de 'stillery pipe 
 down stairs don't mean nothin' 'longside de way 
 he's robbin' de safe wid whut he calls luck. 
 Luck! Demmy, de way dat six-ace come wid 
 dem taper dice shows me jes' one thing an' dat's 
 
158 LILY 
 
 a nigger's neck lonesome fo' a wire-edge blood 
 hook. Git him out soon as you kin, else I sets 
 de iron swingin' twins on his track." 
 
 "Sledge, I gits him out. Don't start no blood- 
 ruckus whilst de Damons is all rallied 'roun', 
 kaint tell 'bout dem lodge fools. Dat Wilecat 
 might make some lodge sign an' git de whole 
 lodge helpin' him spread mis'ry an' distress, I 
 gits him out quiet, oozes him out befo' he knowg 
 whah at he is." 
 
 "Git oozin' !" 
 
 "I is," 
 
 Followed by Sledge, Demmy slipped back: into 
 the big room. He edged his way as quickly as 
 he could to the Wildcat's side. "Boy," he whis 
 pered, "lissen to me. Betteh git back to de 
 job. OP night-rounder come an' find you mis- 
 sin' you ain't got no mo' job dan a fish kia 
 sing." 
 
 "Don't craves no job, Demmy. Don't need no 
 job whilst Lady Luck does de work. Don't 
 pester wid me now, I got three things 'cumul 
 ated dat's been a long time comin' luck, money 
 an' de clickers." He faced the audience and 
 
LILY 159 
 
 voiced his challenge. "Gents an' Damons, rally 
 whilst de Wilecat treads his prowl !" 
 
 He turned to the crap table. "Bank man, 
 shoots a hund'ed." 
 
 From his seat at the banking center Sledge 
 cast an acid glance at Demmy. Then, reluc 
 tantly yielding to the obligations imposed by his 
 official rank, he covered the Wildcat's stake. 
 
 "Shoot!" 
 
 "De second session an' de gallopers is had a 
 recess. Dice, wake up an' git in de collah. 
 Bugle babies, sound de pay-call. Wham! . . . 
 an' de lodge folks sees seven ! De cash quartet 
 wid Faith, Hope an' Charity. I lets it stay seed 
 'till de big money sprouts. Sledge, shoots two 
 hund'ed. Lodge folks, watch de second de 
 gree!" 
 
 His invitation was superfluous for by that time 
 the crap table had become the center of interest. 
 Sons of Damon, straining in store clothes and the 
 yaller sashes of their Order, with one accord bent 
 their plumed head-gear in the direction of the 
 big money game. Above open mouths, in the 
 half-light of the room, white eye-balls rolled in 
 weaving platoons. "Dat boy gone hog wile! 
 
 . . Bet ol' Sledge quit befo' long.^. . . Look 
 at dat Sledge man sweat !" 
 
160 LILY 
 
 "Shoots two hund'ed! Shoots de scenery, 
 'less de bank is feeble." 
 
 "Bank's all right. Shoot." 
 
 The Wildcat's hand gyrated about his head and 
 returned to the level of the table. Hardly touch 
 ing the green cloth the twin cubes' leaped to 
 ward the fenced edge and bounced half-way back, 
 spinning with that certificate of virtue without 
 which no crap-shooter in a house game would 
 long retain his health and strength. "Wham! 
 I reads 'em rollin', an' when dey rests dey tells 
 de worl' . . . Jury wid de fo'man A. W. O. L. ! 
 Dat's 'leven! ... I drags down de widder's 
 mite an' whut dat you say, Lily?" 
 
 An eager Son of Damon had stepped on Lily's; 
 foot and the mascot's remonstrance lifted sharply 
 above the Wildcat's words. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 "Goat, you say let it ride*? . . . Sledge, us; 
 lets it lay. Dat mascot neveh guessed wrong yit ! ' 
 Shoots de fo' hund'ed." 
 
 "Wilecat, keep de ivory a minnit 'till de bank; 
 visits de safe." Sledge stood up and walked to 
 ward the little room. En route, with the two 
 slight inclinations of his head he summoned ai 
 brace of followers. When the door had closed! 
 behind them the trio went into executive session. 
 Sledge whispered three quick orders. "Dis is de 
 
LILY 161 
 
 las' pass," he confided. "I tells him Fse done. 
 When he leaves, all I tells you is fetch back 
 de cash, an 5 use de black-jack. No blades. 
 Don't want no p'lice findin' nothin', nothin' 
 a-tall! Dat's dat." 
 
 Sledge returned to his place at the table and 
 counted out four hundred dollars. He laid it 
 down. "Wilecat, de bank announces de finish 
 fade. You is reached de play limit fo' de night." 
 To himself he added another reservation. "If 
 he makes dis pass it's de las' one he makes 'till 
 some fool fades him in hell !" 
 
 At the Wildcat's side, sensing the fatal conse 
 quences of success, Demmy tried again to drag 
 his companion away from the game. "Wilecat, 
 fo' de las' time I tells you dem 'lasses needs de 
 tanks changed. Come on wid me befo' dey 
 busts." 
 
 "Demmy, at res' ! As you is. Git calm. I 
 leaves wid you when I shows dese lodge boys dis 
 bank bustin' pass wid de dynamite dice. Leggo ! 
 Watch de cyclone seed git big !" 
 
 He turned to the wide green table. He held 
 the dice in his left hand and reached down gently 
 with his right until his exploring fingers en 
 countered Lily's uplifted head. "Lily, I tags 
 you fo' luck." He transferred the dice to the 
 
i6z LILY* 
 
 luck-infested fingers of his right hand. For an 
 instant he was calm, dispatching to his finger tips 
 a summons for the exquisite technique of ab 
 solute control. Then! "Rifle dice, de las' cat'- 
 ridge! Bam! 9 . an' twins in de jitney! 
 Five-dooce !" 
 
 The Wildcat reached for the money and parked 
 it quickly in the depths of his pockets. "Sledge, 
 me an' Lily bids you goodnight. Lodge folks, 
 sho' proud to know you. Sez goodnight 'till de 
 nex' session/' He turned to the door. "Come 
 on heah, Demmy. Us got to 'range dem 'lasses. 
 Come 'long, Lily. Say goodnight to de meetin'." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" The mascot spoke her farewell as 
 clearly as she could with her face crowded with a 
 five-cent cigar that had been dropped by an ex 
 cited Son of Damon. "Ba-a ! Blaa-a !" 
 
 Under the ripple of laughing comment that fol 
 lowed the mascot's message Sledge whispered three 
 words to a pair of desperate giants beside him, 
 "Git him now!" 
 

 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 TEN feet behind the Wildcat and Demmy 
 on their way out of the Sledge establish 
 ment the messengers of violence followed 
 them to the exit. At the door the Wildcat turned 
 for. a moment and looked back. "Seems quieted 
 down a lot, Demmy. Us must of killed de eve- 
 nin's joy wid dat las' pass." 
 
 He faced the door. Behind him the brace of 
 sluggers stepped forward to trail him into the 
 night. 
 
 "Demmy^ seems like; de. ruckus is all died 
 down." 
 
 The Wildcat stepped through the door, into 
 the dark, as Demmy voiced his reply, and on the 
 instant Demmy's words were smothered a mile 
 deep beneath the crash of a new ruckus that lifted 
 around the pair. 
 
 Then, ahead of him, Demmy heard the Wild- 
 
 163 
 
164 LILY 
 
 cat's voice above the tumult. "Lawd Gawd, 
 Lady Luck, float me high!'' 
 
 In the faint light Demmy saw the Wildcat 
 grab for Lily and then he felt a grip of steel 
 about his wrist. "Demmy, dey's a deep flood! 
 I drags you out!" 
 
 Around the Wildcat's waist, down the gully 
 leading to the room where the evening's ruckus 
 had so lately died, whirled a black eddying stream 
 on whose surface rode twisted rafts of tank 
 staves and timbers from the wrecked tank house. 
 
 The Wildcat, doubly burdened, stumbled once 
 and disappeared beneath the flood. 
 
 He came up, spouting like a whale and shak 
 ing his head free from its intimate covering. 
 "Whuff! 'Lasses! . . . Kick wid yo' feet, Demmy, 
 dey's high groun' close. . . . 'Lasses tanks 
 an' dat crap game both bust de same minnit! 
 Feel wid yo' feet. Kaint keep me an' dis goat's 
 haid up much longeh. . . . Whuff! . . . Lawd 
 Gawd, heah's de high groun' !" 
 
 Heavily freighted and swimming hard against 
 the current of molasses that swirled down the 
 gully the Wildcat felt the solid earth under him. 
 Five seconds later he and his two companions 
 were ten feet up the bank. "Hot dam ! Demmy, 
 dat was sho' heavy draggin' . . . Whuff! . . . 
 
LILY 165 
 
 Stay heah wid Lily whilst I goes back and see 
 does any Sons o' Damon crave a helpin' hand." 
 
 He turned again toward the Sledge establish 
 ment. 
 
 In the dim light shining from the curtained 
 windows of the Sledge basement there suddenly 
 appeared a rush of panic-stricken Sons of Da 
 mon, and each Son was trying his pussonal best 
 to unwrap himself free from his oozing shroud of 
 brown liquid. 
 
 Plumes and sashes, store clothes and complex 
 ions were one color now, and the green crap 
 tables which had been the field of evening battle 
 was flooded deep with the flowing molasses. 
 
 Lodge brothers, slicker than diving seals, for 
 got the ritual of departure and waded to their 
 necks in a wild stampede for the windows. 
 
 Demmy scooped/ enough of the sticky stuff 
 away from his face to permit his organs of speech 
 to function. He reached out a restraining hand 
 and cluched the Wildcat's arm. "Wilecat, dem 
 'lasses kaint git mo' dan five feet deep in dat 
 place, runs out de winders to de front street 
 befo' dat. Stay 'way f'm dem folks. Don't ast 
 me mi thin', fetch dat goat an' us busts de leavin' 
 time whilst de bars is down." 
 
 Impressed by his companion's words the Wild- 
 
166 LILY 
 
 cat guessed the concealed half of Demmy' s warn 
 ing. "Demmy, I'se wid you !" He turned to the 
 mascot. "Come on heah, an* come runnin'. 
 Le'sgo!" 
 
 A mile out of town the trio waded into the 
 waters of a little creek, emerging presently, fit to 
 travel half as fast as Demmy advised. "Wile- 
 cat, hit de hot foot 'till us ketches de no'thbound 
 train at de crossin' tower stop whah you sees 
 dem green lights. Us is lef dis Ruddville town 
 fo' de las' time/' 
 
 c Tsc comin', Demmy. OP town ain't so bad, 
 -^-you an' me made oveh fo' hund'ed dollahs 
 apiece in one night. . * * Heah dem flies headin' 
 fo' dat 'lasses, town gwine to be de home plate 
 fo' all de flies in de worl'. , . . 'Lasses a foot 
 deep in de streets an' all de cellars full. Gran' 
 drinkin' town when de street pavin' begins to fo 
 ment a . a dat town's name ain't Ruddville, 
 wid 'lasses so clingin' dat town's name is 
 mud. t , t Git marchin', Lily befo' you sticks!'* 
 
 "Feet, stan' by me! Lead agile, Demmy. 
 Come a-runnin', Lily!" 
 
 Leaving Ruddville and the midnight flood of 
 
 
LILY 167 
 
 molasses the Wildcat needed no compass. Geog 
 raphy is all right if a boy has plenty of time 
 but when OP Man Trouble is busting speed rec 
 ords on the back-trail the main thing in life is 
 not so much where-to as away-from. 
 
 In spite of a nocturnal bath in the cold waters 
 of Rudd Creek the Wildcat's mascot goat still 
 carried an intimate veneer of sticky molasses that 
 cramped her style of escape. After the first mile 
 down the country road it became necessary to 
 call a halt until the goat could be busted loose 
 from the lumps of molasses-mixed mud which 
 had accumulated on her feet. 
 
 In the darkness the Wildcat spoke a quick 
 message to his two-legged companion who was 
 setting the pace a little ahead of him and Lily. 
 "Demmy, hold de deal a minnit 'till us nanny- 
 cures dis goat's feet loose fm di$ gumbo- 
 land." 
 
 Demmy, the small black, impatient to con 
 tinue the flight, advised quick work, "Wilecat, 
 don't let nuthin' like plain mud stop you. Does 
 dem 'lasses fact'ry folks find us gone de fust 
 thing dey does is ketch us an' install us per 
 manent whah you heahs de jail door slam, - 
 f 'm de inside. Kick dat goat loose f'm de mud 
 an' come 'long. Dat no'thbound train is due 
 
i68 LILY 
 
 at de crossin' mighty soon an' de crossin' is a 
 mile up de pike. Come 'runnin'." 
 
 "Us is comin', Demmy. . . . Goat, see kin you 
 hit de double-time!" 
 
 Lily, lighter by ten pounds of detached mud 
 and molasses, did the best she could. The 
 mascot seemed to sense the necessity for 
 haste and no remonstrance marked her steady 
 trot. 
 
 Where the distant signal of the railroad cross 
 ing gleamed red the trio, with Demmy in the 
 lead, plunged from the road and waded a shal 
 low, rain-filled borrow-pit. When they climbed 
 the railway embankment the rails were clicking 
 with the approach of the train and a minute later 
 from around a curve the beam of the headlight 
 slashed across a wide segment of the cane fields 
 which hedged the right-of-way. 
 
 "Looks like she ain't gwine stop." The Wild 
 cat spoke his fears. 
 
 "Dat train stop. Grade crossin'. OP en 
 gineer dassn't run pas' de red light, hits a de 
 rail an' sidetracks into a pussonal cemetery 'less 
 he stops 'till de light shows green. I knows, 
 I run dinin' car two yeahs on dis line." 
 
 Demmy gauged his distance and began to 
 walk away from the red signal. "Come on, 
 
LILY 169 
 
 Wilecat, us climbs on down heah. Third car 
 f'm de engine, right behin' de baggage." 
 
 Five hundred feet from the signal light the 
 trio waited in the glare of the approaching head 
 light. The engine crashed past them and the 
 train slowed to a four-mile rate, but before she 
 came to a dead stop two short signal whistles an 
 nounced her clearance. "Boost dat goat on de 
 platform ! Dat's a highball !" Demmy realized 
 that now was the time for all hands to climb 
 aboard. 
 
 The Wildcat boosted the mascot up the car 
 steps and reached down for his sawed-off com 
 panion's arm. "Gimme yo' han', Demmy, 
 dat'sit! Whuff! . . . Well, heah us is, Mem 
 phis-bound, an' trail in' Lady Luck." 
 
 "Git inside de car befo' de conductor thinks 
 us is ridin' free an' unloads us. Bring dat goat." 
 Demmy wasted no time in contemplating their 
 luck. He opened the door of the car and plowed 
 a channel through the pungent and heavy odors 
 until he found a vacant seat. "Shove dat Lily 
 undeh de seat, mebbe dey objects to ridin' goats 
 in dis car." 
 
 "Kaint see de reason. 'Longside de smell 
 whut's heah now dat goat is dollah musk an' de 
 cork lost." The Wildcat crammed Lily under 
 
170 LILY 
 
 the edge of the seat. He took off his hat and 
 looked around at his sleeping fellow-passengers* 
 "Wonder whah all dese niggers is headed fo\ 
 sho' lots of fiel' han's travellin' since de wah. 
 Niggers whut neveh seed a train is bustin' up an' 
 down de line like dey'd been sent fo' by de an 
 gel Gab'rel! How come so many folks ridin', 
 Demmy <?" 
 
 "Long on money an' short on sense. Dey quits 
 befo' long now, dis time nex' yeah a doll ah 
 look big as de harves' moon. Heah's de con 
 ductor!" 
 
 Demmy did some quick thinking. "Betteh 
 not tell him Memphis, us hides out in Vicks- 
 burg 'till dis Ruddville 'lasses flood blows oveh. 
 Like as not they looks fo' you in Memphis. Tell 
 de conductor Vicksburg." 
 
 The Wildcat looked up at the train conductor 
 and reached for the roll of bills with which Lady 
 Luck had booned him less than two hours before. 
 "Cap'n suh, me an' Demmy got on at de cross in ? 
 an' didn't have time to git no ticket at de dee-po. 
 Us gwine to Vicksburg." 
 
 The conductor cut two cash fare receipts and 
 handed them to the Wildcat, together with two 
 dollars change out of a moist twenty-dollar bill. 
 
 "Cap'n suh, thank you!" He drawled the 
 
LILY 171 
 
 pronoun to accent his relief. A boy never could 
 tell about conductors. Sometimes they ran you 
 off the train for wearing wet and dirty clothes, 
 sometimes they unloaded you for no evident 
 reason at all. He settled back against the hard 
 rattan seat and began counting his money. 
 "Demmy, dat las' pass wid de clickers brung 
 eight hund'ed an' dey was sixty layin' cold, 
 takin' out de money us gives de man jest' now 
 dat's eight forty, an' de half is fo' twenty wid a 
 ridin' high dollar." He counted out a crumpled 
 and sticky pile of greenbacks, "Fo' hund'ed, fo' 
 ten, fo' twenty. Dah you is, an' de silveh slug. 
 Fo' hun'ded an' twenty one dollahs. Demmy, 
 dat sho' wuz a lucky five-spot you lent me. 
 Built up noble/' 
 
 Demmy took the money. "Wilecat, you done 
 grand. Dat's mo' money dan I'se seen since 
 likker got so high. I'se 'bliged. . . . Boy, you 
 is sho' shootin' square wid yo' podneh!" 
 
 "Aims to, Demmy. I tol' you you was half 
 in de game. Dat's half. Wait 'till it's safe fo' 
 us to git to Memphis an' you sees ol' Cap'n Jack. 
 Us lives high, gran' grub at de big house, no 
 mo' work dan 'nuf to keep you woke up, gran' 
 place to sleep, plenty clo'es, prancin' 'roun' wid 
 de Memphis niggers at some gran' ruckus ev'y 
 
172 LILY 
 
 night. Compared wid workin' in dat 'lasses 
 fac'ry back dere you'll think Memphis is heaven 
 on high." 
 
 "Wilecat, sho' soun's gran', but how you know 
 Cap'n Jack let me work 'roun' his place*?" 
 
 "How does I know! Demmy, me an' de 
 Cap'n fit de wah togetheh an' I took care de Cap'n 
 afteh dat an' brung him an' de Missus home to 
 New Yawk. OP Cap'n couldn't do nuthin' 'less 
 us wuz dere. He depen's on me, heavy. Bears 
 down on me when dey's any thin' a- tall to be 
 done. Spec' widout me de Cap'n kaint git along 
 none. All you needs to git workin' wid Cap'n 
 Jack is fo' me to tell him, 'Cap'n Jack, heah's 
 Demmy. Demmy craves to hire wid you. 
 Sho' a gran' boy whah dey's work star in' him in 
 de face. Reckon us betteh pay him good wages, 
 Cap'n, times is so hard.' Dat's all I need to tell 
 Cap'n Jack an' you is set lovely in de glue of 
 joy. I knows dat man, Cap'n Jack's my white 
 folks." 
 
 To the Wildcat Captain Jack was the one safe 
 refuge in time of storm. Captain Jack's sphere 
 of influence was a cyclone cellar wherein a boy 
 could find sanctuary from Ol' Man Trouble and 
 unless Captain Jack was somewhere in the vicinity 
 and riding herd on Lady Luck that fickle goddess 
 
LILY 173 
 
 degenerated into a temporary visitor. The Wild 
 cat craved Lady Luck as a permanent companion 
 and with the lengthening miles he came to realize 
 that as soon as he and Demmy could leave the 
 sanctuary of Vicksburg the big bet was to let 
 Captain Jack do all the worrying that had to be 
 done about capturing and retaining the intermit 
 tent goddess. 
 
 Until the day dawned the pair alternately 
 dozed and awakened to indulge in plans for the 
 future. In these plans Captain Jack's depend 
 ence on the Wildcat was heavily featured. 
 "Widout me, Demmy, de man kaint do nuthinV 
 
 When the train butcher began his rounds the 
 pair invested heavily in tobacco and peanuts, soda 
 pop, sandwiches and a candy that ran about six 
 cubic feet to the pound. Under the seat, Lily 
 ate her share of the food and gave her attention 
 to a half-smoked cigar which the Wildcat dis 
 carded in favor of one that wasn't unraveled quite 
 so much. At the puffed molasses candy the goat 
 drew the line. A swim in a tankful of heavy 
 molasses and a battle against a flowing flood of 
 the sticky liquid had been included in the night's 
 terrors and for the time being Lily was fed up 
 on molasses. What she craved was good eating 
 tobacco. She munched thoughtfully on the grati- 
 
174 LILY 
 
 fying cigar and listened to her master's exposition 
 of Captain Jack's helplessness. "Widout me, 
 Demmy, dat man is los' in de high cane." 
 
 Lily bleated faintly. "Blaa-a! mebbe he 
 ain't so los' widout you as you think/' 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THREE hours after die pair of molasses- 
 flood refugees arrived in Vicksburg they 
 hired out at Colonel Fairfield's city 
 house. Thereafter for a week, striving to please, 
 the Wildcat added considerably to his reputation 
 for being able to act like a good boy no matter 
 how he felt. 
 
 On Saturday night, bursting with an exuber 
 ance that came from unnatural good-behavior and 
 a roll of unspent greenbacks, he indulged himself 
 in a prowl. Dawn found him feeble with leg 
 misery and ailing mightily, bemoaning his plaint 
 to an indifferent world. 
 
 "Dis world of sin I craves to leave, 
 De angels sing an' do not grieve, 
 I craves to jine 'em, hand to hand, 
 An' neveh leave dat heavenly band." 
 
 Over in another corner of the Fairfield wood 
 shed, Demmy, the sawed-off member of the duet 
 
 175 
 
176 LILY 
 
 whose mutual friendship had been cemented with 
 a flood of sticky molasses, pried the mascot goat's 
 mouth ajar with a stick of kindling wood and 
 propped it open with a clothespin. "Reveal yo'- 
 se'f, fool, an' stay revealed. Go blatterin' 'roun' 
 heah fm eatin' pork'pine bushes! Stan' still. 
 Mebbe dis learns you neveh to relish dese thistle 
 bushes." 
 
 Demmy picked the stickers out of Lily's mouth 
 to an accompaniment of song from the Wildcat, 
 prone on his pallet in the corner of the wood 
 shed. 
 
 'Heah I is, Lawd, wid my breas'plate on, 
 Sweep me up on high, 
 Waitin', Lawd, wid my breas'plate on; 
 Honin' fo' mah home on high." 
 
 "You gits on high afteh de front seats is filled. 
 Wilecat, how come you is so soggy minded*?' 
 Lawd don't crave no sweepin's. Lawd sweep 
 you up wid a club. Preacheh says think befo' 
 you jumps. 'Member dat nex' time when you 
 starts flyin' an' finishes muscle-bound." 
 
 "Gwine to be no nex' time. Neveh gwine lea] 
 no mo'." 
 
 "Serve you right did yo' neck git busted, 'ste; 
 of only strained yo' laigs. Heah you 'dulges yo'- 
 
LILY 177 
 
 se'f in a night prowl an' gits chased. Den whut 
 happens. You climbs a fence. An' jumps sud 
 den. Thinks you knowed de lay of de Ian'. 
 Thinks you knows yo' own alley. All I sez, 
 serves you right." 
 
 "Demmy, how I know dem neighbors wuz dig- 
 gin' dat deep pit fo' dat 'cinerator thing. Las' 
 hund'ed yeahs dey hauls garbage. How come dis 
 'cinerator pit rage so sudden? How come dat 
 pit right whah I aimed to land? Naw suh ! OP 
 Lady Luck los' mah name else she waited wid a 
 helpin' han' when I fell. Devil yell Tick yo' 
 podneh' an' OP Man Trouble picked me." 
 
 "Serve you right. How come you night prowl 
 anyhow? Some woman, some place, seems like 
 to me." 
 
 "Demmy, you wrongs me. Ain't no woman. 
 Whut fo' I go prowlin' afteh some woman? Got 
 me single troubles 'nuf now 'thout hitchin' on any 
 double extry." 
 
 "Dat's whut dey all says. I spec' to see you 
 hawg-tied in madrimony any day now since de 
 word went roun* you had money." 
 
 "Ain't got money. 'Vested it wid a back-pay 
 man whut is gittin' us ahmy boys de boonus." 
 
 "You says. I strains to b'lieve you. Naw 
 suh, Wilecat. You is sho' backslid on de sin 
 
178 L I L Y 
 
 road. All I knows is once you an' dis goat wuz 
 upright. Den you gits de night prowls, loses 
 yo' money, like to busts yo' laigs gittin' loose 
 f'm whut chased you an' de goat takes to nibblin' 
 thistles an' pork'pine vines. Yo' mis'ry is richly 
 d'served. Richly d'served an' not half plenty. 
 Heah I stays by de house, close like de down 
 marshal knowed mah name, an* all I gits is a 
 added burden to bend mah back. You ain't done 
 nuthin' 'cept lay down. How dem laigs ? Ain't 
 you able to wrassle dat jag of fancy washin' de 
 Gunnel's wife is sendin' to de French laun'ry?" 
 
 "Spec' I kin, Demmy. See kin I." Groaning 
 plenty with every move the Wildcat tried his 
 legs and found them better than he wanted them 
 to be. When work crowded down heavy a good 
 pair of sprained legs were pretty handy to have. 
 They had served as a shield between him and 
 hard work for four days, and now it appeared that 
 the time had come when Demmy would be re 
 lieved of some of the heavy running around. 
 "Whuff! Dat righ' laig feels kinda gentle. 
 (Lef one is able to stan' up. Whah dem 
 clo'es?' 
 
 "Time you wuz askin' whah de work is. 
 iYou'se been askin' whah it ain't long 'nuf. I 
 gits de clo'es an' fetches 'em heah. You lugs 'em 
 
LILY 179 
 
 to de laun'ry. Rise up an* pick yo'se'f up an' 
 
 walk!" 
 
 With this parting admonition the sawed-off 
 Demmy left the woodshed and meandered up the 
 path toward the Fairfield house, where, on the 
 back veranda rested a bundle of feminine wear 
 ing apparel whose fabric had seemed too delicate 
 to be entrusted to the rough and ready attentions 
 of the Colonel's Amazon laundress. 
 
 The Wildcat stepped gentle as if time had 
 suddenly booned him with a premium of bone 
 spavin. He hobbled to the corner of the wood 
 shed where the mascot goat was trying her teeth 
 on an old rubber boot. "Lay off dat boot! 
 How come you git yo' face full of thistle bristles? 
 Ain't you learned whut is delicate an' whut ain't 1 ? 
 Stan' roun'heah!" 
 
 With the length of clothes-line in his hand 
 the Wildcat relayed the abusive and critical lan 
 guage which Demmy had showered down on him 
 during the last four days. "Goat, one mo j step 
 on de sin road an' you gits de hot end of dis 
 rope. Stan' still!" 
 
 Lily stood still. About her neck the Wildcat 
 looped the thin rope. He fixed it in position 
 with a series of loose knots and presently the mas 
 cot was meshed in a complicated net of harness 
 
i8o L I L Y 
 
 from which trailed a jerk-line and a pair of free 
 ends. "Back up !" Lily was boosted to position 
 fronting a broken-down baby carriage that stood 
 against the wall of the woodshed. "Goat, halt! 
 Quit eatin' dat rope befo' I hangs you wid it!" 
 
 A few more clumsy knots and Lily was hitched. 
 "Dah you is. Dah you stays. In de harness. 
 Ponder on gee-haw an' ponder which is which. 
 F'm now on, whilst my laigs is ailin', all de heavy 
 haulin' is done by a four-legged varmint whut 
 ain't got betteh sense dan to eat briars. Serves 
 you right." 
 
 Demmy appeared in the doorway with the bag 
 of laundry. "How come de hitched-up goat*? 
 Dis washin' weighs light." 
 
 "Goat does de haulin 7 . Starts dat mascot wid 
 light washin' an' finish wid pig-iron befo' I'se 
 through. Learn dat goat. Whah de Gunnel say 
 take dem raiment? Which French laun'ry?" 
 
 "Speckle face woman by de tan-yard. 
 Woman's name Magnezia Bunny. Ain't neveh 
 seed her. Cook say she light built an' spin'lin'." 
 
 Demmy dropped the bundle of clothes in the 
 baby carriage. "Git goin'. An' come back soon. 
 De kindlin' hatchet needs trainin'. I'se busy wid 
 de coal bin f'm now 'till suppeh. On yo' way. J} 
 
 The mantle of command which the Wildcat 
 
LILY 181 
 
 had worn seemed suddenly to have been trans 
 ferred to Demmy's narrow shoulders but in his 
 solid friendship for his diminutive companion the 
 Wildcat found nothing of resentment at Demmy's 
 assumption of authority. On the contrary he 
 seemed to relish the new business of being bossed 
 around. "I'se gwine, Demmy. Don't be so 
 temp'rary wid me an' Lily. Us is ailin'." 
 
 "You be ailin' worse 'less you burns a shoe. 
 Git goin' an' git comin' back. Don't delay wid 
 dat spin'lin' Magnezia woman whut runs de fancy 
 laun'ry. Neveh seed her but de cook says she's 
 been hitched twice an' aims to repeat." 
 
 "Aims lots, does she crave. I'se aim proof. 
 Lots has aimed but none is pulled de triggeh." 
 The Wildcat growled his marching orders at the 
 mascot. "Git goin', Lily. Hit de collah." 
 
 "Neveh mind how aim proof you is." Demmy 
 called a parting word of advice. "When de you- 
 an'-me talks begins, you grunt. Grunt an' come 
 back single 'stead of double wid trouble. Don't 
 say no social words to no yaller widdahs whut 
 has French laun'ry blood in 'em. See you at 
 suppeh time." 
 
 The Wildcat and Lily, convoying their cargo 
 of laundry, limped their slow way down the 
 length of the alley. Where the alley met the 
 
i8i LILY 
 
 wide street they swung to the left. About here, 
 without knowing it, they parted company with 
 Lady Luck. 
 
 2 
 
 Six feet high, young, skinny and cinnamon- 
 faced, Magnezia Bunny had chased one forgotten 
 husband into the sanctuary of a penitentiary, 
 killed a second by the slow process of renting him 
 out as a field-hand, and was just now engaged 
 in looking for a third victim. The French laun 
 dry brought in a living without much work. 
 When her business associates in Vicksburg were 
 clearing two dollars a day Magnezia paraded her 
 technical superiority and killed competition. 
 She left the parade in possession of a reputation 
 for being the best laundress on fine work for 
 miles around. Exclusive, that was her motto. 
 Folks had to be somebody before they attracted 
 her professional attention. Being somebody in 
 her mind meant a commercial rating first of all, 
 no matter what the social register might have 
 to say. "Folks thinks if things cost twice as 
 much dey's twice as fine. I learns dat when I 
 seed my fust man relish a nickel see-gar whut de 
 saloon man put in de ten-cent box. Tse learned 
 
LILY 183 
 
 lots since den, but it stays de truth. Folks pays 
 big money to be fooled. I fools 'em. Cost mo* 
 to have me wash an' iron a pair of silk stockin's 
 dan whut de stockin's demselves used to cost. 
 S'clusive, dat'sme!" 
 
 Toward this exclusive establishment, riding 
 herd on the hitched-up mascot goat and leaning 
 lightly on the handle of the baby carriage, limped 
 the Wildcat. "G'long, Lily, gittin' late. Don't 
 crave to miss no rations an' dese laigs ain't 
 'quipped wid much speed dis aftehnoon. Git 
 'longdah!" 
 
 "Blaa-a !" Lily receipted for the message, and 
 then, her mouth still sore from an over-indul 
 gence in nettles, she held her lower jaw at a 
 cross between "Ah" and parade-rest. 
 
 The Wildcat asked his way. "Whah at de 
 Bunny woman live"? I means de washlady 
 
 woman." 
 
 "Nex' do' de grocery at de co'neh. De yaller 
 do' house." 
 
 "Lily, git in dat collah. Step wide !" 
 In front of the yellow-door house the parade 
 halted long enough for the Wildcat to restrain 
 Lily with a few turns of rope around one of the 
 pickets of the fence. This accomplished he 
 mounted the narrow porch and rapped loudly on 
 
184 LILY 
 
 the panels of the yellow door. On the instant 
 the lifted edge of an upstairs lace curtain fell to 
 place and the Wildcat heard a patter of slippers 
 on a stairway. Then his ears were seduced with 
 two gentle syllables, cooed in the sundown tone 
 of a turtle dove. "Enteh!" 
 
 Again the soft voice from within the house. 
 "Please come in." 
 
 Who, me?" 
 
 A boy never could be too careful responding 
 to these trap voices. Mebbe nobody had said 
 nuthin'. Sounded some like spirits. Best thing 
 to do was to step down off the porch to where 
 Lily and the laundry were real and tangible. 
 The Wildcat retreated one step to the rear, 
 stumbled and got a red hot reaction out of his 
 sprained knee. "Hot dam ! O Lawdy an' vine 
 gar wid de shootin' blaze in mah laig ! Oof? !" 
 
 The door opened to emit a blast of guinea hen 
 language in which the dove accents were com 
 pletely lost. "Hush yo' mouth, nigger! Hush 
 yo' yell in' befo' dis lef wing unkinks a transfer 
 and knocks you f'm heah to whah yo j face is a 
 dimple. Shut up!" 
 
 This was something that could be understood. 
 
LILY 185 
 
 "Yass-um! S'cuse de ruckus talk. I brung de 
 washin' f m Gunnel Fairfield's." 
 
 "Bring it down de side path. Fron' do' ain't 
 no laun'ry entrance." 
 
 "Yass-um !" 
 
 Lily was cast loose from her moorings and 
 hazed through the narrow gate and around the 
 house. At the far end of the pathway a wide 
 expanse of clothes-lines, half of them draped 
 with silk and fine linen, met the Wildcat's eye. 
 Laces, too delicate to be warped by clothes-pins, 
 lay around in the sunlight, supported on a series 
 of white wood frames a foot from the ground. 
 
 "Tie up dat goat an' fetch dat laun'ry in 
 side!" 
 
 "Yass-um!" Here was a regular industry. 
 No washlady's establishment had ever been like 
 this. Here was a superior organization, and the 
 boss of it was giving orders. The Wildcat tied 
 Lily to a clothes pole and groaned a little, for 
 effect, when he stooped over to lift the ten-pound 
 bundle of clothes out of the baby carriage, 
 "Whuff! Dem wounds sho' is ragin'," 
 
 "Bring it in dis do'." 
 
 "Yass-um. Lawdy, but mah wounds pains 
 
 me." 
 
186 LILY 
 
 "Whut wounds? White man wound you close 
 to a hen-house?" 
 
 "Mis' Bunny, you flails de mo'tal flesh wid 
 dem words. Dese is wah wounds I 'cumulated 
 back in France." 
 
 "In de back, you say? Long time ago, seems 
 like, dat wah." 
 
 "Dese is long-time wounds. Bay'nits, pistil 
 shots, cannon balls, shaprel, one an* all I met 
 an' konkered. Lef me feeble." 
 
 The veteran modulated his voice to a tremolo 
 to fit his recital. Inside the kitchen his eyes fell 
 on half a boiled ham resting at ease on a platter. 
 He resumed his wild recital of his A. E. F. ordeal, 
 winding up with a burst of criticism directed at 
 the mess sergeant of his outfit. "Boy neveh fed 
 us a-tall. Sold de rations an' drunk hisself to 
 de fo'gettin' point wid de money ev'ry month. 
 Ain't got mo' dan half caught up wid mah rations 
 in goin' on two yeahs, steady eatin'. Seems like 
 my wounds an' dem wah 'flictions lef me wid 
 de perm'nent craves in my stummick. I'se a 
 Wilecatfo'ham!" 
 
 He looked directly and fixedly at the ham. 
 
 "Set down 'till I gits you a ham san'wich." 
 
 The day was won. 
 
 "Woman, whet de blade! Omit out de san- 
 
LILY 187 
 
 wich part. Don't aim to let no bread clutter up 
 my neck whilst de ham lasts. Plain ham! 
 Bread I tolerates when dey ain't nuthin' else 
 but." 
 
 "Ham yo'se'f whilst I gits de coffee hot." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 AN hour later, when the ham had sunk 
 without a trace in a dozen cups of coffee, 
 the Wildcat indulged in a groan of hap 
 piness. "Whuff! Magnezia, spec' heaven is a 
 ham island in a coffee lake, wid you wettin' a 
 whetstone whilst I swings de ham knife. Nobles' 
 rations I eveh et!" 
 
 "G'long wid yo' plaugin' talk. You sez dat !" 
 
 "I'se a bullet fo' ham, whinin' soft an' bitin' 
 heavy. Ain't no mo', is dey ? Dat's whut sez ! 
 You sho' is de ham cookinist woman I'se eveh 
 knowed!" 
 
 "Wilecat, go 'long! You cuts yo' words to 
 de pattern an' us all wimmin gits de same dress." 
 
 "Ain't so. Means it. Always thought how 
 gran' ham wuz, wid a woman whut really 
 knowed ham cookinY' 
 
 "Wilecat!" 
 
 "Magnezia!" 
 
 The Wildcat was slipping and he knew it. 
 He recovered and buzzed loudly in the web. 
 
 188 
 
 
LILY 189 
 
 "Got to be goin' now befo' oP Gunnel lets go 
 de bloodhoun's." 
 
 "How much yo' white-folks boon you in wages'? 
 Seems like you is mighty anxious to git back." 
 
 "Depen's. Git none lately. Ain't spoke 
 money-talk since us hired on. Aims to make 'nuf 
 to pay fo' a blue suit an' dem yaller shoes I 
 bought me f'm de 'stallment sto'. Gran' shoes!" 
 
 "Wilecat, put on dat raiment an' 'tend de 
 party! to-night at Sis' Lizafs house. Woman 
 wid a husban' in heaven o' elsewhah. Gran' 
 time, wid an' includin' all de Liza gin you kin 
 drink. You an' me. Us goes double." 
 
 'Whut de place 4 ?" 
 
 "Fo' gates f'm de Black Beauty Livery, you 
 knows de place !" 
 
 "I knows, I comes an' meets you accidental. 
 Dat's de bes' way." 
 
 "Whut makes you hangin' back 4 ? You ain't 
 double is you, an' deceivin'." 
 
 "'Clares not. Tol' you once. No tag on me 
 'cept de Lawd's breas'plate. Neveh doubled 
 none. Got plenty trouble widout doublin'." 
 
 "You sho' you comes, ain't deceivin"?" 
 
 "Ain't no deceiveh. Got de Lawd's breas' 
 plate on. Sees you dis night. Got to beat de 
 bloodhoun's now gittin' back^" 
 
190 LILY 
 
 Stoop-shouldered with his cargo of hope and 
 ham the Wildcat staggered to his feet and hobbled 
 to the kitchen door. At the door he paused for 
 a moment for the final syllables of a farewell 
 in which was mingled thanks for the ham and 
 prayers for the future. The tenor of his gratitude 
 inspired a reply from the widow and in her words 
 again sounded the cooing dove notes which had 
 first greeted him through the front door of the 
 house. "Aw, honey, hush!" 
 
 Honey hushed, having nothing better to do, 
 and his embarrassed eyes, seeking escape from the 
 widow's saccharine glances, travelled to the silk 
 and lace mosaic of feminine apparel that mottled 
 the backyard. For a moment thereafter his vision 
 failed to register. Then he gulped twice and 
 batted his eyes. He closed his eyes, tight, as if 
 to blot the scene from his mind. Then his lips 
 framed his mascot's name. Three times he tried 
 to call the goat but no sound came until a length 
 of nervous tongue moistened enough of his dry 
 lips to permit speech. "Lily!" His voice was 
 pitched low. Thereafter, as loud as he could 
 yell, he fired a volley of commands at the goat 
 and in his words was battle. 
 
 Lily, nibbling delicately on what had been a 
 
LILY 191 
 
 lace collar worth ten times its weight in gold, an 
 swered sweetly. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 The startled widow, looking over the Wildcat's 
 shoulder, saw a wide new channel in the sea of 
 silk and linen. The channel was three feet wide 
 and it began at the place where Lily had chewed 
 her hitching rope in two. It meandered along 
 for fifty feet to where the mascot goat returned 
 the Wildcat's hail as best she could with a stomach 
 gorged with lace and grass and silk. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 Action followed the Wildcat's words, and it 
 was Magnezia who acted. A broom, launched 
 at Lily, stripped a ten-foot length of clothes-line 
 of its cargo. The handle of a clothes-wringer, 
 twisting through its trajectory, reaped a harvest 
 of lingerie three feet to the right of the goat. 
 
 Lily, with a look of injured innocence shining 
 virtuously from her eyes, asked one question in 
 goat language before she was lifted high above 
 her banquet table by her master's arms. "Lily, 
 fo' less dan money you gits sold to de slaughter 
 house. Dis time you is et yo'se'f to de edge of 
 yo' grave. Lay dere, varmint, 'till I axes whah 
 de road to de butcher's!" 
 
 The Wildcat slammed the goat down into the 
 baby carriage to which the mascot had so lately 
 
192 LILY, 
 
 been hitched. "Lay still ! Repent an' 'wait de 
 minnit of sacrifice ! He turned to the war-danc 
 ing widow. "Magnezia, all I sez, fo' de present, 
 is words. An' dem words is whut de judge sez 
 when de jury sez 'Guilty.' Dis is de las' time 
 Lily pesters you wid . . . ' 
 
 The double widow, looking at the cringing 
 form in the baby carriage, was suddenly reminded 
 of the fact that heaven disguises its blessings 
 every so often. "Wilecat, shower down mercy !" 
 In her mind, superior to her rage, flashed a scheme 
 whose success would substitute the word Marsden 
 for the Bunny part of her name. "Dat goat has 
 et de profits of a year's work but she didn't know 
 no better. Fo'give de transgresseh an' judge not 
 les' ye be penned up wid hoss thieves. De Lawd 
 gives an' hauls back. I'se only a lone an' down- 
 trod widdah, a clingin' vine wid nobody laborin' 
 in de vineyard, but I'se will in' to fo'git an' fo'- 
 give dat li'l goat." The nobility of Mis' Bunny's 
 words was all gummed up with sobs and blind 
 gestures. She groped feebly through her tears 
 and encountered the Wildcat's arms. 
 
 "Magnezia, dry dem tears. Ain't nuthin' 
 los' but laun'ry." 
 
 Sympathy. Quicksand. 
 
 Ten seconds later, far from feeble, Magnezia 
 
LILY 193 
 
 Bunny had embraced the Wildcat in a drowning 
 clinch that felt like a session with a cinnamon 
 bear. 
 
 In his babble of comforting words the Wild 
 cat had spoken no verbal options, but a moment 
 after his eloquent and soothing phrases had ceased 
 the widow answered him, and her reply was an 
 acceptance of various unoffered things, including 
 one husband. "Wilecat, honey, I does. I takes 
 you, betteh or worsen I 'cepts yo' pleadin' fo' 
 my hand in wedlock. Sho' do, an' to-night at 
 de party us 'nounces our impendin' weddin' festiv 
 ities." 
 
 Over the widow's shoulder, his hands hanging 
 hopeless and heavy at his side while he breathed 
 with difficulty in the bear- trap clasp of his impetu 
 ous fiancee, the Wildcat gulped convulsively at his 
 sudden fate. He batted his eyes. The eye-bat 
 ting slowed down and his lids stayed put, a cur 
 tain between the fearful present and a future 
 compared to which the present was a steam- 
 heated paradise. Whichever way he looked he 
 saw a barbed wire trouble fence too high to be 
 scaled. 
 
 "Honey, you is so cold. How come you so 
 ca'm an' steady when I'se all fluttered wid de 
 beatin' of my heart? You deceives me. I bet 
 
194 LILY 
 
 you is a o? hand wid de flame of love, bet you 
 could build a June love bonfire in de April rain. 
 Why is you deceivin' so?" 
 
 "Ain't no deceiveh. Tol' you once. When 
 is dese heah weddin 5 calamities happen you speaks 
 about?" 
 
 " 'Gagement is broadcasted to-night at Sis' 
 Liza's party. De elect folks gin' ally holds de 
 weddin' f'm five to seven days afteh dey tells de 
 worF 'bout de 'gagement. Dis is Monday. 
 'Nounces to-night an' nex' Monday gits de 
 preacheh. High noon. Aftehnoon, hack drive. 
 Evening, aw, Wilecat, honey! Lawd, how de 
 time do drag!" 
 
 The Wildcat saw a temporary out. "Ain't 
 draggin' now. Release go dem twinin' arms an' 
 I gits back an' 'dorns me wid de blue pants an' 
 dem yaller shoes, so's folks sees me prancin' 
 when dis 'gagement bizness is toP to-night." 
 
 The victim sought freedom that he might be 
 alone in his misery. He squirmed loose and a 
 moment later, wheeling Lily along at a four-mile 
 pace that indicated a sudden and complete cure 
 of the laig feebles, he was on his way to the 
 Fairfield woodshed where Demmy waited. He 
 relied on Demmy. He bore down heavy on 
 Demmy, trusting to that diminutive genius in 
 
LILY 195 
 
 this hour of peril. "Dat boy is little but his 
 head part is all whale meat. Huh! Demmy 
 learn dat Magnezia woman whah to go wid dat 
 hitchin' bizness talk. 'Boy, git me out of dis.' 
 Tells Demmy an' lays back whilst he 'ranges me 
 loose f'm dis home cravin' widdah. When dey 
 is six gallopers in a crap game I gits double 
 hitched, mebbe. Only two dice now an' dey is 
 worked to death makin' a livin fo' me, let alone 
 some lazy manager you is doubled wid. Dis 
 heah Demmy 'ranges me free. Tell Demmy how 
 come. Demmy fixes it." 
 
 He tried to dismiss the subject from his mind 
 and to dwell upon the happy single past instead 
 of his doubtful double future. 
 
 The mascot goat, sogged down in the cramped 
 interior of the baby carriage, knowing full well 
 that her stock was under par for the moment, took 
 advantage of a cobbled strip of street to change 
 her bouncing position until her front feet lolled 
 over the front rim of the vehicle. Thereafter, 
 setting pretty, Lily enjoyed the business of being 
 transported without personal exertion. She 
 voiced her satisfaction in a gentle bleat which 
 served to start another cycle of brooding in the 
 Wildcat's brain. "Goat, shut yo' face! Heah 
 I is, thinkin' of all dem good times whut us had 
 
196 LILY 
 
 in de wah an' you blats in wid yo' say-so an' 
 brings me back to trompled laun'ry an' dat home 
 cravin' Magnezia. One mo' blaa-a f'm you an' 
 us goes fust to whah dey sells goats fo' slaughter 
 house pu' poses." 
 
 Lily was silent thereafter, silent with a fixed 
 purpose that indicated her understanding of the 
 Wildcat's words. Until she stretched her legs 
 and trotted around in the freedom of the wood 
 shed back of the Fairfield house no sound cluttered 
 up her face. That she spent the rest of the ride 
 gnawing at a rattan spiral ornamenting the star 
 board quarter of the baby carriage may have in 
 spired her silence, but this the Wildcat over 
 looked, attributing her obedience to the perfection 
 of her training. 
 
 For once in his life the Wildcat encountered 
 the supper hour filled with a subject more impor 
 tant than rations. It was six o'clock when the 
 return journey ended, and sixty minutes of life 
 and freedom intervened between the foot-loose 
 present and the moment when, at Sis' Liza's party, 
 his entanglement with the tall and spindlin' Mag 
 nezia Bunny would be released to the listening 
 local world. "Don't crave me no suppeh. 
 Craves to tell Demmy, craves to share my woe. 
 Got me a load of grief too heavy fo' one boy. 
 
LILY 197 
 
 Mebbe Demmy kin lift de heavy end like he al 
 ways done. Demmy !" 
 
 No voice answered him. "Demmy! Whah 
 at is you?" 
 
 Demmy, at the moment, was busy in the house. 
 The Wildcat guessed the truth and with a brief 
 order to the mascot he walked out of the wood 
 shed up the wide brick pathway to the back steps 
 of the big house. Light from the kitchen gleamed 
 through the screened door. 
 
 Half afraid that some malignant turn of Lady 
 Luck's hand might whisk his helper from the 
 scene at this critical eleventh hour, the Wildcat 
 lifted his despairing gaze to the chair at the 
 kitchen table where the sawed-off Demmy was 
 wont to perform his prodigious feats with food. 
 
 Demmy was nowhere to be seen. The chair 
 was empty. Except for the fat cook, kneeling 
 before the open oven of the long range, there was 
 no one in the kitchen. "Whah Demmy?'' The 
 Wildcat's voice was husky with despair. 
 
 "Sett in' de table. Whah you been? Git in 
 heah an' git to work. Spec' you let de Gunnel 
 eat alone without help. You gits mo' triflin' 
 ev'y day ! Git dem plates in de hot oven. Git 
 yo' white coat before' " 
 
 "Woman, git plassified. Lissen to whut I " 
 
198 LILY 
 
 The Wildcat was interrupted by the entrance of 
 Demmy. He broke off his oration to the cook 
 and in three steps was at the side of the diminu 
 tive brunet. "Demmy, I'se in trouble. Bad. 
 Ain't no worse kind." His whisper rose to a 
 croak. "I'se got ketched, like you said. Come 
 out heah wid me whilst I tells you." 
 
 Demmy sensed the emergency and the pair re 
 treated into the night, followed by the cook's 
 loud statements of what she aimed to do to both 
 of them. "Stay ca'm, woman. Us comes back 
 in no time." 
 
 " 'Less you does I scalds you red wid dis 
 bilin' kettle an'" 
 
 "Demmy, don't lissen to dat woman. Don't 
 neveh lissen to no woman. Jes' like you said, 
 de you-an'-me talk begins at de washlady's, an j 
 us gits 'gaged to git hitched. Party to-night an' 
 Magnezia tells de world. All come f 'm dat goat. 
 Lily et me into dis woe. Preacheh pufforms his 
 duty nex' week, den I'se done !" 
 
 Demmy was silent for ten seconds but his twist 
 ing face was an index of the intensity of his 
 mental effort. "Dis takes speed, Wilecat. 
 Leave me think some mo' !" 
 
 Another forty seconds of brain work, with 
 closed eyes. 
 
LILY 199 
 
 Consecutive steps of the tentative solution were 
 ticked off on the fingers of Demmy's left hand. 
 He opened his eyes. "Might work. Ain't say in', 
 sho' risky fo' me. Seems like ev'ything I does 
 is risky. Git out of my way. You keep dat 
 cook woman in de kitchen an' don't let her git 
 near her own room 'till afteh I gits back. Wait 
 de table fo' de Gunnel. Meets you in de wood 
 shed at eight o'clock wid de news. Keep dat 
 cook in de kitchen, dat's all." 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE Wildcat's imperfect service at the 
 dinner table that night and his various 
 sudden attacks of dish-trembles served to 
 keep the cook in the kitchen. When the Wild 
 cat dropped a platter on which was arranged a 
 squad of candied sweet potatoes the cook's ap 
 prehensive mood gave way to one of undiluted 
 abuse. From then on she was too busy showering 
 down vitriolic language on the offender's bowed 
 head to think about leaving the kitchen. On the 
 part of the victim he was too far away mentally 
 to be affected by anything the cook might say, 
 except that now and then at the apex of her 
 eloquent flights he stored away a choice phrase 
 for use on his mascot goat when the time for 
 real language should be ripe. 
 
 In his dazed mind the Wildcat sought to follow 
 the course and actions of the absent Demmy, 
 striving to picture each succeeding phase of the 
 
 night's drama until the curtain might fall with 
 
 200 
 
LILY 201 
 
 the crown of victory resting on Demmy's brow. 
 But each time, at the point where Demmy en 
 countered Mis' Magnezia Bunny the picture 
 faded and in its stead was a tableau of retreat. 
 The retreater was the Wildcat himself, closely 
 pursued by a galloping and skinny brunet in 
 whose upraised hand waved a meat ax labelled, 
 "Vitus Marsden, Rush." 
 
 At the meat ax stage he batted his eyes and 
 shook his head in a convulsive attempt to clear 
 his brain of the vision of disaster. At one of 
 these shaking points he collided with the framing 
 of the pantry door and spilled the candied sweet 
 potatoes. "Neveh mind, dey ain't los', I eats 
 dem yams! I sweeps up dem yams." 
 
 "You eats dem yams!" Hatred and scorn 
 sounded in the accented "you." "Sweeps dem 
 yams up, does you!" Bam! The Wildcat 
 dodged a hurled stovelid, only to encounter the 
 mop-end of a swinging mop. "You eats mud! 
 Git dis hot bread to dat table befo' I loses my 
 temper an' kills me a damn fumblin' fool." 
 
 "I'se gwine! Yassum!" Through the cra 
 ven's mind flitted the thought that unless the 
 night marked Demmy's success all of the future 
 would be one long business of dodging stovelids. 
 The thought tamed him. Bitter replies were 
 
202 LILY 
 
 choked down before they were uttered. For the 
 time being, where normally he might have ex 
 changed compliments, he was lamb-like and 
 humble to a degree that threatened the master 
 ful control and fireside prestige which he had 
 established in the home circle/' 
 
 "I'se hus'lin', honey. Gimme dat bread!" 
 
 "Don't honey me! Git goin' befo' I knocks 
 you loose f'm yo' gizzard." 
 
 "Yass-um! I is." 
 
 He was, and while the Wildcat was ambling 
 along three jumps ahead of the cook's slightest 
 wish, Demmy was running a personal race with 
 Old Man Trouble. 
 
 Before he had left the Fairfield house Demmy 
 executed a quick piece of prowling and emerged 
 from the room which was normally occupied by 
 the cook, carrying under each arm a loose and 
 obstinate bundle of feminine raiment. In the 
 sanctuary of the dark woodshed he laid down his 
 bundles. Then, startled by a slight noise in the 
 far corner of his retreat, he turned to face a pair 
 of phosphorescent green eyes. "Whuff!" He 
 controlled his feet. "Lawd, Lily, when I gits 
 
LILY 203 
 
 back I beats you to death fo' lookin' like a ghost. 
 How come yo' eyes so green !" 
 
 Lily answered with an apology for her resem 
 blance to a ghost, but Demmy, busy with a lan 
 tern, was suddenly deaf to the goat's explanations. 
 Just then more serious business than listening to 
 a goat filled his mind. In the dim light of the 
 lantern he stooped and picked up a bright yellow 
 waist adorned with diagonal black stripes. A 
 voluminous checked skirt gaudy with squares of 
 purple and orange came next, followed by a wide 
 and drooping felt hat from which exploded a 
 pair of massive red plumes the like of which no 
 modest ostrich could have endured. A yellow 
 veil, netted in the open spaces between a pattern 
 of sprawling purple spiders, and finally a wide 
 blue sash. Demmy lashed the sash about his 
 waist, looping wide folds of the flowing skirt 
 under the sash, and tied it in place with a square 
 knot that supported a butterfly finish as big as a 
 dishpan. "Sho* is awkward! Feels like a fish 
 
 in a net." 
 
 Without fully realizing it at the moment, but 
 laboring under a suspicion which approximated 
 the truth, Demmy resembled a fish in a net as 
 closely as anything could that did not have fins 
 and gills. 
 
204 LILY 
 
 About the fish's form was draped a ponderous 
 plush cloak. Then, into the night and forward 
 to the battlefield ! The sawed-off hero blew out 
 the lantern, showered down a parting curse on 
 Lily, and was on his way. 
 
 A sound of revelry by seven o'clock at Sis' 
 Eliza's house. A trombone acrobat on a dais 
 of soap boxes to give him arm-room on the long 
 notes, a hyena saxophone, a demon drummer boy 
 who had trained over a hamburger steak chop- 
 ping-block, a foot-patting fiddler who could drink 
 his likker in action without missing a note, and 
 in a room sixteen by twenty, milling about the 
 flowing punch-pan, dancing without visible foot 
 movement and perspiring freely, forty of the 
 shaded elite of Vicksburg. 
 
 Head and shoulders above the milling mob, 
 stepping fancy from the knees up, Mis' Magnezia 
 Bunny maintained a strategic position against the 
 inner wall whence she could observe the front 
 door and the entrance of all comers. A knock 
 at the door, distinct under the Mournin' Blues, 
 and the announcer's voice, baying high above the 
 music. "Mist' Punic Brawley an' his manager!" 
 
LILY 205 
 
 Mist' Brawley, followed by his wife, plowed 
 his way through the press in the wake of his 
 hostess and halted in front of a wide tin dishpan 
 filled with Sis' Eliza gin. "Whuff yo'se'f an' 
 git tromplin'." Having thus discharged her 
 social obligation for the moment Sis' Eliza re 
 sumed her hitching gyrations with her dancing 
 partner, moaning meanwhile the words of the 
 Mournin' Blues. 
 
 Neveh made a dollar dat you didn't git half, 
 Neveh rolled a seven 'cept I rolled it fo' you, 
 Neveh did no grievin' when you wanted to laugh, 
 Neveh done no laughin' when my honey felt blue. 
 
 My honey felt blue when de big judge said: 
 "Save him from sunstroke an' park him in jail, 
 Black an' white raiment an' shave de boy's head 
 Kiss him farewell you kin reach him by mail." 
 
 Reach him by mail wid a letter, 
 Reach him by mail wid de news ; 
 Done mournin', now I feels better, 
 I's done wid dem Lone Mournin' Blue*. 
 
 Another knock at the door and over near the 
 wall the expectant Mis' Magnesia slowed down 
 to a following drag, trailing now where she 
 had trembled the lead half a note ahead of the 
 drum. "Spec' dat's him!" 
 
206 LILY 
 
 "Who you spec"?" 
 
 "Confidential I tells you, quit dat close 
 weavin', 'let me reach you by mail wid de news,' 
 I spec' it's my new financee." 
 
 "Is you done wid dem lone mournin' blues'?" 
 
 "I is, man, an' now I feels better. I'se aban 
 doned dem lone mournin' blues." 
 
 Bam! The music died an explosive death. 
 The outer door opened. To the announcer's ears 
 from the shadowed doorway came a high pitched 
 falsetto voice. "Evenin', is dis de whah'bouts 
 of dis Sis' Eliza ruckus'?" 
 
 "Sho is. Trail in an' leave me speak yo' 
 
 name." 
 
 A sawed-off figure, veiled and cloaked, entered 
 the room. "I'se Missus Vitus Marsden. My 
 husban', de Wilecat, is temp'rarily retained at 
 Gunnel Fail-field's house." 
 
 "Yo' whut!" In the sudden calm the voice 
 of Magnezia Bunny snapped like the thin end 
 of a blacksnake whip. "Yo' who husban"? 
 Woman, whut dis talk 4 ?" 
 
 The veiled stranger ploughed half way into 
 the mass of perspiring dancers to meet the en 
 raged Magnezia. "I sez my husban' Vitus 
 Marsden whut folks calls Wilecat! Sez me! 
 How come you so cravin' to know*?" 
 
LILY 207 
 
 "I shows you how come." Without any pre 
 liminary gesture the swing of Megnezia Bunny's 
 heavy hand launched straight for the side of 
 the veiled figure's head. 
 
 Bam! The sawed-off one staggered a little 
 and swelled up under the draperies in time to 
 stop a swinging left. "I learns you an' dat' 
 heart-breakin' houn' !" 
 
 The skinny panther was upon the cloaked 
 figure, and in an impromptu circle of pop-eyed 
 bystanders, a battle was staged with all the 
 flurry and madness of an overdue cyclone. For 
 a long thirty seconds the little combatant endured 
 the flailing punishment meted out by the spin 
 dling Magnezia and then, with a quick burst of 
 unexpected energy, the tall member of the team 
 found herself lifted head first over the surging 
 shoulders of "Missus Vitus Marsden." 
 
 Five feet above the floor, helpless and writh 
 ing, Mis' Magnezia poised for three seconds be 
 fore she began her descent. She came down, 
 aided and abetted by two strong arms, and her 
 course was the diving course of an arrow, aimed 
 at the starboard end of the paralyzed orchestra. 
 Bam! Head first into the tight parchment of 
 the drum-head. A quick recovery and Magnezia 
 stood erect, weaving a little, but with her head 
 
208 LILY 
 
 still crowned and concealed within the interior 
 of the drum. "Git me out! Take dat off my 
 haid! Un-loose me !" 
 
 Fumbling hands unloosed the captive. In her 
 sudden freedom she looked about for her op 
 ponent. 
 
 The veiled Missus Vitus Marsden, taking ad 
 vantage of the moment when Mis' Magnezia 
 Bunny's predicament had attracted all eyes to 
 ward that drum-diver, had vanished into the 
 night. 
 
 Various nerveless whuffers clustered around the 
 tin dishpan absorbing quick slugs of Sis' Eliza's 
 nerve tonic. 
 
 The drummer inverted his instrument and 
 tightened the snares on the one uninjured drum 
 head. 
 
 "Kiss him farewell, you kin reach him by mail 
 Jes' begiimin' dem Lone Mournin' Blues." 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AT four minutes to eight, through the 
 shadows of the alley back of the Fair- 
 field house, stepping fast, came "Missus 
 Vitus Marsden," champion of the night's battle. 
 In the obscurity of the high board fence that 
 lined the dark side of the alley the figure reefed 
 a double handful of flowing draperies and in this 
 new freedom the marching pace was accelerated 
 to a trot. Opposite the door of the Fairfield 
 woodshed the rambler's raiment again swung free 
 and his fumbling hand reached for the latch of 
 the door. 
 
 "Blaa-a !" Lily, enjoying the rubber flavored 
 canvas of an old but luscious tennis shoe, ex 
 pressed her surprise at the sudden invasion of 
 her sanctuary. 
 
 Out of the darkness came a reply to Lily's 
 startled bleating. "Shut up, goat, befo' I knots 
 yo'neck!" 
 
 209 
 
210 LILY 
 
 The invader spoke, and where "Missus Mars- 
 den's," voice had been a high falsetto at Sis' El 
 iza's dance, now it was the voice of Demmy. The 
 diminutive masquerader struck a match and with 
 it he lighted the lantern hanging against the wall. 
 Two minutes of fast work sufficed to free him 
 of his borrowed costume. He rolled his dra 
 peries this time into one large bundle and carrying 
 it before him he marched toward the rectangle 
 of light that marked the kitchen door. 
 
 Arrived at the door he kicked gently against 
 the lower panel of the screen. From within the 
 Wildcat answered. "Who dat?" 
 
 "Dis Demmy." 
 
 The Wildcat addressed the cook. "Go on 
 'long into de dinin' room, honey, an' see is I 
 swept things right. Craves to 'range eve'y thing 
 to please you an' ol' Gunnel." 
 
 The cook obeyed, and while she was absent 
 from the kitchen the Wildcat opened the door to 
 his laden associate. "Lawd, Demmy, how come 
 you has de nose bleed*?" 
 
 "Stumbled against OP Man Trouble. Don't 
 stop me. Got to git dese clo'es back." Straight 
 for the cook's room with the borrowed costume 
 walked OP Man Trouble's associate, to return 
 
 
LILY 211 
 
 three minutes later to where the Wildcat waited 
 for the verdict. 
 
 "Come wid me to de woodshedL Us talks 
 free f m folks listenin'." 
 
 Trailing his guide the Wildcat gained the 
 woodshed and closed the door behind him. "Is 
 I free T He held his breath. 
 
 "You is, 'ceptin' f'm yo' 'maginary fust wife. 
 Dat Magnezia woman don't aim to create no 
 big' my. Single, double an' trouble, you went 
 through dem three stages an' now you begins 
 single again." 
 
 With a haste not explained in his words 
 Demmy sketched the process by which he had 
 freed the Wildcat of his bonds. "Dey thinks 
 you is married, all you does is 'nounce de divo'ce 
 an' stagger along thankin' Lady Luck dat you 
 missed either a weddin' o' else a break-yo'-promise 
 ruckus. Dat's all, I'se gwine now." 
 
 "Demmy, doggone! I'se saved again!" The 
 Wildcat breathed deep and then sought to pro 
 long the recital of the message of salvation. 
 "Whah you gwine, ain't you headin' fo' de 
 kitchen? Dey's some ham cut an' de gravy is 
 on de stove." 
 
 "Too busy to eat, sees you afteh while." 
 
212 LILY 
 
 Demmy launched away on his second project 
 of the night. 
 
 Sis' Eliza's party disintegrated at eleven 
 o'clock. Mis' Magnezia Bunny not unaccom 
 panied, reached her own yaller-door domicile at 
 twenty minutes after eleven. Her escort lin 
 gered at the door until the clock inside the house 
 struck three, and out. 
 
 At half-past three in the morning the Wild 
 cat was awakened by Demmy's heavy hand. 
 "Rouse up! I'se got mo' news to tell you. I 
 been back at de party, open-faced dis time. 
 Meets up wid yo' late financee. Fust time I seed 
 dat woman my heart flopped. Dis time, Wile- 
 cat, when my love eye landed on dat tall Venus, 
 I falls! Tol' her so. Me an' her uses dat 
 hitchin' preacheh nex' Monday. Come to de 
 weddin' an' bring dat Lily whut's de cause of 
 it all. You is named de bes' man!" 
 
 "Demmy, is I dreamin"? Does you remem 
 ber whut you said 'bout single an' double 
 trouble?' The Wildcat batted his incredu 
 lous eyes. "You is crazy!" 
 
 "I is wid de love itch. Git to sleep. Git 
 dreamin' like I does, true-comin', happy 
 dreams." 
 
 "Huh!" The Wildcat grunted his comment. 
 
I LILY 213 
 
 "You ain't dreamin', you is delirious above 
 de ears an' plain bilious mule below. Sun-up 
 you begins to bray." 
 
 The critic lay awake for ten minutes there 
 after. "Craves to have me be bes' man! I'se 
 de bes' man shows dat mule who is de bes' 
 man befo' he gits hitched up. Lady Luck, rally 
 roun'. Us needs you bad." 
 
 On the day following the Wildcat's rescue 
 from the noose of matrimony he began an ardent 
 campaign of verbal first-aid for the luckless 
 Demmy. 
 
 "Naw suh, Wilecat, de love fire was sot 
 blazin' an' de flames of love is got me red hot." 
 
 "Whut you mean flame of love?" The 
 Wildcat snorted his disgust. "Demmy, you gits 
 yo' pinfeathers scorched wid dis flame of love 
 bizness befo' you wakes up. I advises you, 
 whilst" 
 
 "Don't crave no advice. All I craves is dem 
 lavendeh pants you got. Don't want no advice, 
 my mind is set." 
 
 "You ain't got no mind. Ain't had none since 
 you seen dat Magnezia Bunny. Yo' mind got 
 
214 LILY 
 
 shattered in de collision when you meets dat 
 woman. As yo' friend I advises, " 
 
 "Wilecat, fo' de las' time I tells you I don't 
 crave" no advice. All I craves is dem festival 
 pants." 
 
 "Demmy, wuz you mah len'th in de laig you 
 could have 'em, an' welcome. Us cuts de laigs 
 off dem blue pants and you 'dorns yo'se'f noble, 
 but de lavendeh ones is pussonal. Cuttin' off 
 is diff'runt f'm lendin' 'em. Afteh de laigs is 
 cut off kin dey be cut back on? Naw; suh! 
 Kaint cut laigs back on social pants no mo' dan 
 you kin cut a chicken's neck back afteh de ax is 
 done its duty. Understan' me, Demmy, wuz 
 dey workin' pants, dat's diff'runt, but dem lav 
 endeh pants is all de elect pants I'se got. You 
 sees how it is*?" 
 
 "I sees. Cut de blue pants. I'se too flustered 
 to counterback you or militate against yo' ver- 
 dick." 
 
 "You is too which against whut*? How 
 come you so puffed wid words?" 
 
 "Needs persuadin' lang'wige in dis battle wid 
 Magnezia." 
 
 "Bullhead, you needs mo' dan persuadin' lang 
 'wige to git you loose. Heah's de blue pants. 
 Hold 'em 'longside of you whilst I gits de 
 
LILY 215 
 
 measure. Dere! Right whah dat mud spot is. 
 Stretch 'em oveh dis choppin' block." 
 
 The blue pants were laid on the altar of friend 
 ship and with a dull hatchet the Wildcat sacri 
 ficed a foot of their leg fabric. "Whah at dat 
 needle an' thread? Baste dat seam on de in 
 side. You knows how to sew*? If you don't 
 you betteh learn. Dat woman have you sewin' 
 an' keepin' house befo' you knows it. I bet you 
 makes a good wife befo' she's done wid you. 
 Poor li'l Demmy, befo' long 'less something hap 
 pens you knows how it feels to be in jail wid de 
 key lost." 
 
 From an obscure corner of the woodshed Lily, 
 the mascot goat, who had been an observer of 
 Demmy's frantic preparation for his call on Mis' 
 Magnezia Bunny, echoed the Wildcat's com 
 ment. "Blaa-a!" 
 
 The Wildcat turned to his mascot. "Dat's 
 right, Lily, you knows whut us sez is de truth." 
 
 "Whut dat goat know 'bout de truth? Dat 
 mascot don't know nuthin' 'bout humans and 
 madrimony." 
 
 "Mebbe Lily don't know nuthin' 'bout hu 
 mans gittin' hitched, but, Demmy, us tells you 
 one thing, does you stay bull-headed dis way 
 till Monday and does you git hitched like you 
 
216 LILY 
 
 threatens, you understands goat talk f m den on. 
 In dis weddin' wid Magnezia Bunny you is de 
 goat. Hitch dem pants up some mo' ! Dey's 
 all right fo' strollin' pu'poses but something 
 might fall on yo' haid an' resto' yo' mind. In yo' 
 retreat easy gallopin' pants might be handy." 
 
 The Wildcat fumbled around in a corner of 
 the woodshed. "Heah's dis yaller necktie, fool. 
 Dah you is! Dolled up fo' de sack'fice! On 
 yo' way. Does you fall dead befo' you 'rives 
 it means Lady Luck has booned you." 
 
 Encouraged by this final comment from the 
 Wildcat and an inquisitive bleat from Lily, the 
 sawed-off Romeo was on his way down the alley 
 back of the Fairfield residence, heading toward 
 the house where the object of love's young dream 
 stood submerged to her elbows in a wash-tub 
 full of steaming clothes. 
 
 About the time Demmy left the woodshed 
 Mis' Bunny reflected that a good hand at the 
 wringer would be worth his board and lodging. 
 
 To this fate over a primrose trail marched 
 Demmy. 
 
 3 
 
 Hope, springing eternal in the heart of Mis* 
 
LILY 217 
 
 Magnezia Bunny, led her to believe that some 
 where in the future she would encounter a third 
 husband. The French Jaundry business, con 
 sisting of a wash-tub, a wringer, and plenty of 
 hard work, brought her an income that justified 
 the luxury of a husband no matter how trifling 
 he might be. 
 
 Mis' Bunny's first mate had been worked to 
 death at a job which his wife had engineered. 
 She had convinced him that his health and 
 strength depended on his abandoning lodge meet 
 ings, riotous nights at the Fish House and other 
 diversions of a social nature. He went to work 
 in preference to having his wife pound his head 
 off with the ever-present handle of her clothes- 
 wringer. 
 
 The second victim had sought escape from the 
 love net by means of a rented mule which he had 
 been careless enough to retain for his personal 
 property after his flight into Arkansas had been 
 accomplished. The kidnapped mule had been 
 returned to its master but the kidnapper, plead 
 ing cruel and unusual punishment, had avoided 
 a similar fate and had landed safely, with the 
 assistance of counsel, in the sanctuary of a per 
 manent looking penitentiary. 
 
 To Mis' Bunny a husband in the penitentiary 
 
218 LILY 
 
 was as real as the angels in heaven. "Might 
 see him some day mebbe, but to my mind when 
 dey secludes a boy in de stone house he ain't 
 no mo' husban' aft eh dat dan a ghost is yo' gran'- 
 pap." 
 
 Into the grazing range of this hungry heart had 
 blundered the Wildcat. Save for his mascot goat 
 he might have struggled out of the net, but when 
 Lily, unattended for half an hour, gorged her 
 self on a cubic foot of silk and lace drying in 
 Mis' Bunny's backyard, the spider figured that 
 here was a good argument to use in convincing 
 the fly that it would be easier to pay for the 
 destruction by working it out for a wife than 
 by any other means. 
 
 From his impending union the Wildcat had 
 been rescued by Demmy, masquerading as the 
 Wildcat's unknown wife. The scheme worked 
 perfectly except that it left Demmy in love with 
 Mis' Bunny and enjoying mental status midway 
 between love's young dream and delirium tre- 
 mens. In the publicity attending his disappoint 
 ment Mis' Bunny had clutched at Demmy, 
 figuring that he would serve as a face-saving 
 mask for her chagrin. 
 
 Demmy had walked into the trap. The 
 hitching ceremony was scheduled for the follow- 
 
LILY 219 
 
 ing Monday, and between single blessedness and 
 double trouble but six days intervened. 
 
 Back of Colonel Fairfield's woodshed, while 
 Demmy was making his afternoon call on his 
 fiancee, the Wildcat, busy with the kindling 
 hatchet, told the mascot goat all about it and 
 sought means of saving his sawed-off companion 
 from Mis' Bunny's clutches. " 'Less lightnin' 
 hits dat boy it looks like he's a goner. Saved 
 me but went plumb crazy. Sees him to-night 
 and mebbe three or fo' mo' nights, den goodbye 
 Demmy. He comes back to-night. Boun' to 
 show up fo' suppeh. 'Less us saves him dat 
 boy's lost in de high cane wid dat ol' love bear 
 gallopin' 'long on his track." 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily agreed to everything. 
 
 True to the Wildcat's prediction, at six 
 o'clock Demmy showed up bulging with a de 
 sire to relate a long string of the experiences 
 incident to his courtship. 
 
 "Demmy, don't tell me no mo'. I don't want 
 to know nuthin' 'bout you an' yo' battle wid 
 OP Man Trouble. When you says you wuz 
 happy hangin' out de clo'es fo' dat woman you 
 says it all. When does you aim to repeat?" 
 
 "Aims to see Magnezia wid my love eye at de 
 
 same time to-morr'." 
 
220 LILY 
 
 "An* Monday you gits de blind staggehs fo' 
 life. Whut dat smell you got on you?" 
 
 "Wilecat, I 'dorns myse'f wid de musk smell. 
 Bought me a two-bit bottle. Figgered it'd las' 
 f'm now 'till Monday. Afteh dat . . ." 
 
 "Afteh dat de mo' smells you leaves off de 
 less de bloodhoun's kin trail you. Come on 
 heah. I smells de suppeh cookin'. Betteh eat 
 whilst you kin git it. Afteh you enlists in de 
 Bunny ahmy de chances is yo' nutriments is few 
 an' far between. Come on wid me." 
 
 As the pair prepared to leave the woodshed the 
 Wildcat turned to the mascot goat. "Lily, whut 
 you think of dis boy-sized love demon? Built 
 boy-size fo' raiment, but a whale size fool wid 
 wimmin. Come 'long, fool, whilst us 'vestigates 
 dem rations whut Lady Luck showered down." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ON the following afternoon, adorned with 
 the Wildcat's yellow necktie, his ab 
 breviated blue pants and a gaudy shirt 
 discarded by Colonel Fairfield, Demmy soused 
 himself with musk and retraced the trail to Mis' 
 Bunny's house. 
 
 At six o'clock he returned to the woodshed to 
 face another inquisition at the Wildcat's hands. 
 "Hangin' out mo' clo'es I suppose. Say it wid 
 work. How come she leaves you loose f'm de 
 treadmill so early ?" 
 
 "Didn't hang no clo'es. Hung out clo'es yester 
 day." 
 
 Something in Demmy's tone prompted the 
 Wildcat to ask another leading question. "Don't 
 tell me you jes' hung 'round an' visited. Whut 
 brand of slavery wuz you 'flicted wid to-day. 
 De truth is mighty an' must be veiled." 
 
 Demmy, cornered, admitted that the afternoon 
 221 
 
222 LILY 
 
 had not been one of idleness. "All I done was 
 grind the handle on dat li'l ol } clo'es wringer. 
 Mis' Bunny done de heavy work. Couldn't set 
 doin' nuthin'." 
 
 "She's gittin' you gentle. Aims not to break 
 yo' spirit wid no hard labor. Mind whut I tells 
 you, Demmy. Wuz hard work a zephyr you 
 makes a cyclone finish befo' dat woman gits you 
 trained." 
 
 Returning to the confessional after his third 
 visit an element of doubt had developed in 
 Demmy's mind inspired by events which closely 
 approximated the Wildcat's prediction. "Con 
 fidential I tells you, Wilecat, dis aftehnoon I 
 helped wash." 
 
 "Whut I tell you! Dat woman give you de 
 soopreem degree in de love lodge fo' days afteh 
 you gits 'nitiated. Hangin' out first day, wringin' 
 second day, third day up to yo' el-bones in de 
 washtub. To-morr' you gits promoted. Chances 
 is f'm now on she makes you overseer. You 
 sees oveh de edge of de washtub an' if you looks 
 hard you sees yo' finish. Jes' as soon as you 
 gits hitched dat woman lets you do all de light 
 work whilst she does de heavy runnin' round'.' 1 
 
 "Run roun' some to-day. Done some visitin' 
 whilst I handled dat jag o' washin'." 
 
LILY 223 
 
 "Whut I tell you! How does folks perdick*? 
 'Spose a boss runs a mile in fo' minutes to-day 
 an' he runs a mile in five minutes to-morr', if 
 you sees ahead far 'nuf you knows some day 
 the hoss ain't neveh gwine to finish de mile. 
 Same wid rations. Take soup. You starts 
 gentle wid two bowls of soup de fust day. You 
 trains 'till you kin eat fo' bowls. Pretty soon 
 you kin eat all de soup whut is. You knows 
 how it is wid likker. Takes yo' fust drink when 
 you'se a boy. Gits so you kin handle de bottle 
 when you grows up. Bime-bye likker don't mean 
 nuthin' 'less you'se had two or three bottles to 
 begin wid. Naw, suh, Demmy, you faces a life 
 sentence at hard labor an' yo' jail mate is OF 
 Man Trouble." 
 
 Demmy 's face drooped with the lines of his 
 farewell to Lady Luck. "Don't tell me no mo', 
 Wilecat, dey ain't nuthin' I kin do." 
 
 "Dey's one thing you kin do whilst you has 
 de chance. Cook's got some okra soup. Git up 
 to de kitchen an' 'sorb yo' soup whilst de rations 
 come easy. I'se et. Face de soup an' splash 
 yo'se'f whilst me an' Lily holds dis lodge of 
 sorrow and sees kin us think." 
 
 A moment later Demmy left his two com- 
 
224 LILY 
 
 panions and prowled toward the kitchen in search 
 of a comforting ration of okra soup. 
 
 In the woodshed, while Demmy was absent, 
 the Wildcat reviewed the various elements of 
 the problem which confronted him. He talked 
 it over with the mascot goat. "Lily, dis is 
 Thursday night. 'Less us does something ol' 
 Demmy gits lost to human view on Mon 
 day." ' 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily confessed that she saw no 
 way out of the embrace of OP Man Trou 
 ble. 
 
 "You an' me both. Well, when Lady Luck 
 goes A. W. O. L. dey's jes' one thing left to do 
 an' dat is to tell de white folks. Ol' Gunnel 
 Fairfield kin konker anything. Dat boy kin 
 'range Demmy loose f'm dis Bunny varmint 
 wid one hand an' smoke a see-gar wid de otheh 
 at de same time. To-morr' us sees de Gunnel. 
 Sees him right af teh brekfus' bef o' he goes down 
 town." 
 
 Upon Demmy's reappearance he was greeted 
 with a message in which he detected an opti 
 mism which he could not share. 
 
 "OP Gunnel sho' is a noble 'ranger, but dis is 
 beyond him." 
 
 "Nuthin' beyond dat boy. Main thing is 
 
LILY 225 
 
 to git him goin'. Git yo' hat. Come on down 
 to de Fish House. Us 'filiates some whilst you 
 is free/ 7 
 
 Into the night toward the Fish House prowled 
 the Wildcat and Demmy. "You betteh take de 
 clickers out fo' a gallop," the Wildcat advised. 
 "Wid so much hard luck in yo' love affair de 
 chances is wid de gallopers you kin clean up 
 big." 
 
 "Wilecat, I don't feel de luck ragin' to-night." 
 "Suit yo'self. You is de uncrowned king. 
 Afteh Monday you is de dooce wid dis Bunny 
 woman queen high in de home deck." 
 
 Serving at Colonel Fairfield's table on Friday 
 morning the Wildcat tempted his white-folks with 
 a third waffle. He laid his plans carefully. "De 
 minnit I leaves wid de second waffle you git 
 anotheh one ready," he admonished the cook. 
 "De big man's gittin' skinny. Two waffles ain't 
 nuthin'. You gits dat next one ready and I 
 makes him eat it. Fust thing you knows he 
 starts dwindlin'." 
 
 At the breakfast table when the Colonel showed 
 signs of slacking up in the middle of his second 
 waffle the Wildcat was on the job with a third 
 
226 LILY 
 
 confection, brown and crisped on the surface and 
 hot from the iron. 
 
 "Gunnel, suh, give me dat ol' waffle. Here's 
 a special hot one built de way you likes it. ToP 
 dat cook dem white edges neveh wuz pop'leh. 
 Kaint learn dat woman nuthin'." The Wildcat 
 forced the card and before the Colonel knew it 
 he was well on his way into the third waffle. 
 For a half -consumed second cup of coffee the 
 Wildcat substituted a third cup. The cup it 
 self had been heated so that its contents would 
 stay too hot for immediate use. 
 
 Into the five-minute opportunity the Wildcat 
 plunged with a statement of Demmy's troubles. 
 "Gunnel, suh, dis Demmy gits himself bogged 
 down wid grief. Been pinin' all day yisterday 
 wid his load of mis'ry an' woe. I tells him, 
 'Demmy, you ain't got no trouble. You don't 
 know whut trouble is. Trouble is like you is 
 now widout havin' de Gunnel to 'range you free.' 
 Gunnel Fairfield, suh, dat boy don't know yet 
 how good a 'ranger you is." 
 
 The Colonel, being human, rose to the bait. 
 "Gambling house raid*?" 
 
 "Gunnel, naw, suh! Boy don't gamble. 
 Spends his spare time readin' de Book. Wras- 
 seled himself free f'm sin long time back." 
 
LILY 227 
 
 "Ruckus?" 
 
 "Naw suh, not in de full meanin'. Demmy's 
 took bad wid love. Spin'lin' wash woman dey 
 calls Magnezia Bunny lands on Demmy wid de 
 love-eye. Demmy withers and clings like a oP 
 grape vine. Dat woman ain't lookin' for no 
 husban'. All she craves is a slave. Had 
 Demmy wash in' clo'es all day yesterday. Done 
 used up two men, fust one killed off wid work 
 an' de second one retains hisself a mule so de 
 judge retreats him to de penitentiary. 
 
 "How long is he in for'?" 
 
 "Gunnel, suh, I don't jes' know. He's in dis 
 close-by jail place. Name Bunny. Thought 
 mebbe you could send Demmy down de riveh to 
 yo' farm 'till afteh dis love bizness blows oveh. 
 Boy won't lissen to me. Says he made de con 
 tract an' aims to stan' by it. Aims to stan' by 
 de woman next Monday an' git hitched. Lawdy, 
 how time do fly ! 
 
 The Colonel looked at his watch. "I'll see. 
 I'm busy now." 
 
 "Gunnel, suh, you ain't drunk yo' coffee!" 
 
 Whuff. The Colonel drank his coffee. He 
 got up and two minutes later was on his way 
 downtown to his office where, until four o'clock 
 that afternoon no further thought of Demmy's 
 
228 LILY 
 
 predicament entered his mind. At four o'clock 
 the subconsciousness of something forgotten crys 
 tallized into a memory of the problem confront 
 ing Demmy. He summoned his secretary. "Get 
 me the Governor at the capital," he directed. 
 
 Before he left his office the Colonel had spoken 
 for two minutes to the Governor of the State. 
 The Governor was glad to listen because, first 
 of all, Colonel Fairfield was a good scout, and in 
 the second place the Colonel had married high 
 in politics. In the third place, what is a horse 
 thief more or less, between old friends $ 
 
 On Sunday morning the Wildcat again tried 
 to interview the Colonel on behalf of the agi 
 tated Demmy. He pulled a Sister Ann, which 
 resulted only in the counter-command, "Get my 
 golf clubs!" Colonel Fairfield seemed to have 
 lost interest in Demmy and his affairs. 
 
 The Wildcat did not press the questioning, be 
 lieving that the day would offer further op 
 portunity for discovering what had been done in 
 Demmy's behalf. In this he was mistaken. 
 Thirty-six holes of golf and considerable fast 
 play at the nineteenth left the Colonel with no 
 
LILY 229 
 
 time on his hands for such trivial details of life 
 as impending weddings. 
 
 The fatal Monday dawned through a bank 
 of black clouds but half as sombre as the mood 
 which had claimed Demmy and the Wildcat for 
 its own. 
 
 In the woodshed after breakfast had been de 
 feated Demmy sketched an outline of his Sun 
 day occupation. "Wilecat, whilst dat woman 
 was prancin' roun' alone an' whilst all de boys 
 wuz down at de barbeh shop an' de Fish House 
 an' 'tendin' lodge, dah wuz I, front in' de wash- 
 tub half de day an' iron' de clo'es de otheh half. 
 Den I hangs 'em out." 
 
 Demmy realized that he faced a future com 
 posed entirely of labor and lingerie. 
 
 "Didn't leave me nuthin' to eat," Demmy con 
 tinued, "nuthin' 'ceptin' some scraps some white 
 lady give her. You 'members dat ham you et, 
 dat Bunny woman neveh cook dat ham. 
 Judge Penny's wife give it to Magnezia when 
 de Judge lef' fo' St. Louis. Dat woman kaint 
 cook none. All she eats is whut she brings home 
 in papeh bags. One of dese can-openin' cooks! 
 Looks like. . . ." 
 
 "Jes' like I tole you, dat's whut it looks 
 
230 LILY 
 
 like," the Wildcat interrupted. "Ain't no way 
 out. You betteh begin gittin' yo' raiment ready 
 fo' de hitchin' time." 
 
 Demmy groaned and kicked feebly at Lily 
 who had wandered over to extend her sympathy. 
 "Goat, git out of my way! Wuzn't it fo' you 
 us might neveh met OP Man Trouble." 
 
 "Blaa-a !" Lily lowered her head and rammed 
 a remonstrance at Demmy which terminated south 
 of Demmy 's equator. Thoroughly exasperated, 
 Demmy recovered himself sufficiently to give 
 Lily a thumping kick in the ribs and thereafter, 
 temporarily, armed peace reigned over the wood 
 shed. 
 
 While Demmy was completing the details of 
 his sartorial preparation for the hour of tribula 
 tion at the church, the Wildcat, less embarrassed 
 by the necessity for a pictorial effect appropriate 
 to the event, donned his lavender pants, borrowed 
 an old prince albert which Colonel Fairfield had 
 worn in the days of his youth, and departed 
 for the church where the wedding was to take 
 place. 
 
 "Demmy, I'se on my way. I sees is eve'y- 
 thing 'ranged right." 
 
 Demmy groaned. "See kin you poison de 
 preacheh." 
 
LILY 231 
 
 "Ain't no good. Too many preachehs. 
 Poisons one an' dey's five mo' springs up. Jes' 
 like dan'lion weeds. Don't do no good to poison 
 de preacheh o' burn down de chu'ch. Nuthin* 
 do no good. Dey's one thing you kin ease yo' 
 mind wid, some day you dies." 
 
 Demmy snorted his farewell and the Wildcat 
 was on his way. "White-folks ain't neveh failed 
 me yet. OP Cunnel jes' like my Cap'n Jack. 
 Neveh failed nobody no time. Dis comes out 
 right. But how come I don't see." 
 
 While the Wildcat was marching to the church 
 Demmy devoted himself to the business of dress 
 ing for the fray. In this from time to time he 
 was interrupted by Lily, who seemed to sense 
 the approach of the hour of disaster. The goat 
 gave herself over to the business of extending 
 forgiveness and sympathy to the victim of the 
 day's encounter. 
 
 Lily's approaches met but one return and that 
 was a volley of kicks from Demmy's nervous feet. 
 If it was sympathy which Lily offered she got 
 an exhibition of ingratitude. And if it was com 
 panionship she craved she was disappointed, 
 Demmy was in no mood for matters outside the 
 channel down which he was drifting toward the 
 falls, "Goat, git out of my way an' stay out 
 
232 LILY 
 
 of my way ! Git yo' white goat hair off of dese 
 blue pants !" 
 
 His preparations complete, Demmy spoke a 
 harsh farewell to the mascot goat and departed 
 for the residence of his bride. 
 
 The insulted Lily, realizing that she had but 
 two friends in the world, hesitated about follow 
 ing the departing Demmy, and then at the mo 
 ment of decision she reared up and unlatched 
 the door of the woodshed. 
 
 Unseen by Demmy the mascot followed at a 
 safe distance until the sawed-off brunet entered 
 Mis' Bunny's house. Thereafter the goat walked 
 more slowly. 
 
 While Demmy was greeting his bride Lily ap 
 proached the house and parked herself at Mis' 
 Bunny's gate awaiting the moment when Demmy 
 should re-appear and praying that Demmy's 
 normal kindness might have been restored. 
 
 Vain hopes. Accompanied by Mis' Bunny, 
 Demmy appeared at the door and his greeting 
 to the goat carried nothing of that tempered 
 quality of language or action for which Lily had 
 prayed. He gave the mascot a parting kick, 
 after storing her in Mis' Bunny's kitchen. 
 
 It was then that the last thin frazzled strand of 
 an over-stressed friendship was severed. 
 
LILY 233 
 
 While Demmy and his tall and gangling com 
 panion were marching on their way to the church 
 Lily resolved to taste the sweetness of revenge 
 as quickly as events offered her opportunity. 
 She bleated harshly and butted over a kitchen 
 chair. The chair failed to offer resistance com 
 mensurate with the goat's idea of revenge and so 
 she turned to the more solid front offered by the 
 wall of the kitchen, and here, for a little while, 
 in solitude, she practiced the technique of pay 
 ment for wrongs sustained, visualizing the while, 
 the diminutive form of her new enemy. 
 
 It was thus that she was discovered five minutes 
 after Demmy and Mis 7 Bunny had left the house, 
 discovered by a carbon-colored man who called 
 Mis' Bunny's name several times and then de 
 voted himself to a quick exploration of the house. 
 The man seemed to be in a hurry. He galloped 
 upstairs and came back. In his hand the gal 
 loper clutched a folded paper. 
 
 In his second march through the house, seeing 
 the mascot goat, he delayed long enough to give 
 Lily a kindly pat on the head. "Po' li'l goat! 
 Whut you doin' heah'?" 
 
 "Blaa-a!" Lily answered as best she could, 
 
234 LILY 
 
 and then she felt a sudden surge of friendship 
 for this dark stranger, a friendship which had 
 been instantly inspired by his kindly words and 
 the gentle patting which she had received at his 
 hands. 
 
 When the stranger departed via the front door 
 he called an inquiry to a resident of a neighbor 
 ing house. "Whah at dis Bunny woman gone?" 
 
 The neighbor replied with full directions and 
 the stranger took up his march at a double-time 
 gait. 
 
 Behind him, trailing her impetuous new friend, 
 Lily galloped along, resolved that she would fol 
 low this benefactor to whatever conflict might 
 await them at the end of the one-way trail. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 REV. KINNEY TELL, wearing his official 
 plug hat, beat the Wildcat to the church 
 by about four minutes. At the church 
 the pastor discovered old Uncle Sap Crulley ab 
 sorbing his third slug of Eliza gin in anticipa 
 tion of a strenuous half-hour at the organ bellows. 
 
 At half-past eleven all of the brunet elite of 
 Vicksburg who could tear themselves away from 
 the annoying business of working for a living, 
 and those who were not incapacitated by illness, 
 jail or the temporary necessity of keeping cover, 
 were assembled in the church. At a quarter to 
 twelve the arena throbbed for its martyrs. 
 
 The clatter made by Uncle Sap in stoking the 
 red hot stove was submerged under a swelling 
 flood of chattering voices. 
 
 With the stove working under forced draft 
 Uncle Sap retired to his kennel back of the organ 
 where he proceeded to perspire as freely as his 
 physical restrictions would permit. 
 
 Where the lay congregation was concerned 
 
 235 
 
236 LILY 
 
 there were no restrictions on pores or postures. 
 They fidgeted about under the rising vapor of 
 musk and miasma which enriched the languid 
 layers of superheated atmosphere. 
 
 At twelve o'clock, hoping against hope at the 
 thought of a first-class earthquake or something 
 of a similar nature which might save Demmy 
 from his scheduled fate, the Wildcat's lifting 
 spirits were blasted by a cry from the sentry at 
 the door. "Heah dey comes!" 
 
 The announcement was relayed to the pulpit. 
 Immediately the Rev. Kinney Tell, creaking in 
 every joint, sprang to his feet and extended both 
 arms. "Breth'rens, git silent!" 
 
 The breth'rens got silent and while they 
 waited for the entrance of Demmy and Mis' 
 Magnezia the silence was broken only by two 
 violent hiccoughs from behind the organ where 
 old Uncle Sap had absorbed his 'Liza gin not 
 wisely but too fast. 
 
 Under the arched doorway, with Magnezia 
 Bunny barnacled to his arm, came the laboring 
 feet of the sawed-off brunet. 
 
 By the time the Wildcat reached his side the 
 cadence of Demmy 's marching had slowed down 
 like the tempo of a dying phonograph. Demmy's 
 greeting croaked like the voice of an adolescent 
 
LILY 237 
 
 bullfrog gargling in a slough of despond. " Wile- 
 cat, us is " Demmy could say no more. 
 
 "I knows whut us is. Gimme hoi' yo' arm 
 'till I 'scorts you to de noose." 
 
 "Whuff!" Demmy finished a groan with a 
 grunt and the keynote of his despair was sud 
 denly taken up and sustained by a long dis 
 mal wail from the organ behind which old Uncle 
 Sap had begun his hand-car stunt with the bel 
 lows. 
 
 Seated in front of the organ, her fingers wan 
 dering wildly over the ivory keys, was Mis' Fern 
 Green, who had changed her name shortly after 
 being excluded from a fate worse than death 
 some years back. 
 
 The marching trio, with Demmy shuffling along 
 between his captor and the Wildcat, took up the 
 slow course toward where the Rev. Kinney Tell 
 waited with the impedimenta of execution. 
 
 Midway of the march the organist began paw 
 ing the keys in a frantic effort to create sound 
 where sound had suddenly died. The ravaged 
 ivory failed to respond. Mis' Green cast a star 
 tled glance at the master of ceremonies. The 
 Rev. Kinney Tell ducked quickly into the narrow 
 nest behind the organ, the nest wherein old 
 Uncle Sap had gone to roost on an alcohol perch. 
 
238 LILY 
 
 Uncle Sap was dragged out of the retreat and 
 while the Wildcat and Demmy and Mis' Bunny 
 panted at parade-rest, midway of the aisle, a 
 blacksmith's helper was substituted at the pump 
 handle of the organ bellows. 
 
 The Wildcat whispered quickly to his two com 
 panions. "Retreat back to de front do'. Dat 
 was a false start." The trio backed up to the 
 front door while Demmy' s soul stuttered an in 
 coherent plea to Lady Luck for another inter 
 ruption that would be of a more permanent na 
 ture. 
 
 Off at the post again and this time avoiding 
 overdrafts on the volunteer air supply the organist 
 cut the music to something slower than a three- 
 bottle stagger. Between each step the Wildcat 
 had lots of time to think. Demmy was beyond 
 coherent thought. Mis' Magnezia's clenched 
 jaws and flashing eyes served as an index of her 
 mental state. 
 
 The mid-point of the channel where the snag 
 had been struck on the first trip was met and 
 passed. 
 
 At the half Magnezia led by a jaw. 
 
 A little beyond this point Demmy's bowed head 
 and his projecting cranium gave him a slight lead. 
 
LILY 239 
 
 He closed his eyes. "Lady Luck, whah at is 
 you?' 
 
 Lady Luck, answering indirectly, voiced her 
 response in the key of G Flat. Under Mis' Fern 
 Green's twinkling fingers the organ key stuck on 
 G Flat with the steam full on. Welling up into 
 the super-charged atmosphere of the packed en 
 closure there came a sudden and sustained burst 
 of sound. 
 
 Aching ear-drums synchronized and in the per 
 sistent note high pitched laughter was sunk with 
 out a trace. 
 
 The Wildcat stopped where he stood. He 
 leaned over quickly and yelled directly into 
 Demmy's ear. "Once mo' an' you is finished. 
 Three times is out !" He smiled, but no answer 
 ing smile met the evidence of his optimism. 
 From Demmy hope had fled. 
 
 Rev. Kinney Tell officiated behind the organ 
 for the second time. "Shut off dat wind!" he 
 yelled to the volunteer at the pump handle. 
 
 "Kaint see no wind! Whah at's de wind 
 thing?" 
 
 Rev. Tell was unable to locate anything by 
 which G Flat could be conquered and so he re 
 mained in seclusion for three minutes while the 
 
240 LILY 
 
 note matured. It lived its little life, protested, 
 and died a natural death. 
 
 He mounted the rostrum and raised his hands. 
 "Breth'rens, the wedding march will be redoomed 
 widout benefit of clergical music." 
 
 The marching trio milled for a moment un 
 certain whether to continue from their present 
 point or to get off their feet and return to the 
 doorway for a new start. 
 
 The Wildcat, enjoying a sudden hunch, de 
 cided the question. He piloted his two compan 
 ions back to the starting point. "Drag it," he 
 whispered. "Slow drag, Mis' Bunny. Ain't 
 elect to walk fas'." 
 
 Mis' Bunny dragged it. She dragged Demmy 
 and the Wildcat. Demmy was little but now he 
 hung back big. 
 
 Mis' Bunny's eyes wandered from their ob 
 jective and swept her diminutive companion with 
 an inquisitive glance. 
 
 Demmy, enjoying a sudden sense of impending 
 salvation, quailed before her look. 
 
 In the stretch, while the plodding trio were 
 yet ten feet from the wire, the volunteer pump 
 man back of the organ released the uplifted pump 
 handle. Inspired by this sagging weight the 
 ghost of G Flat bleated a final malediction over 
 
LILY 241 
 
 the audience. A covey of giggles and grunts 
 terminating in high, whining laughter drowned 
 the G Flat ghost. 
 
 Then suddenly the laughter stopped and ranks 
 of craning necks were turned toward the door 
 of the church. For the moment the impending 
 ceremony was forgotten. Framed in the sunlit 
 rectangle of the door, dancing impatiently beside 
 a breathless stranger in whose hand was clutched 
 a folded paper, was Lily. 
 
 The mascot paused for a moment only and 
 then with her widened eyes she discovered the di 
 minutive form of Demmy, her false friend, who 
 by sundry kicks and curses had proclaimed him 
 self her enemy. 
 
 The ghost of G Flat found its sequel in an 
 angry bleat from Lily which marked the instant 
 of her furious action. With four wheels skid 
 ding on a slippery rail Lily started down the 
 aisle of the church and her trajectory was the 
 shortest distance between two points. One of 
 these points was the frontal bone of Lily's cra 
 nium from which branched the mascot's horns. 
 The point at the other extreme lay midway be 
 tween the two back buttons on Demmy 's bor 
 rowed blue pants. 
 
 Discarding all intermediate speeds Lily bridged 
 
242 LILY 
 
 the first half of the intervening gap on high. 
 Enjoying a firmer footing on the fibre mat which 
 paved her course she accelerated in the stretch 
 to something less than the velocity of an overdue 
 cannon ball. 
 
 The crash of the impact was drowned in a gale 
 of laughter and a chorus of encouraging yells. 
 
 The first shock boosted Demmy ten feet ahead 
 of his captor. He landed sprawling at the 
 mourner's bench. Above him the Rev. Kinney 
 Tell struggled with a paralyzed tongue in an 
 effort to call down showers of blessings on the 
 sight that assaulted his bulging eyes. 
 
 A moment only did the recumbent Demmy 
 enjoy his reprieve. Lily again attacked and en 
 joyed a second victory before she succumbed to 
 a foul tackle staged by the Wildcat. 
 
 At the moment that Demmy and the Wildcat 
 and Lily lay in a tangled snarl against the 
 mourner's bench the voice of the dark stranger 
 bellowed high above the ruckus. He craved to 
 know how come. "Magnezia, whut you doin' 
 at de altah wid dat sawed-off boy^" 
 
 Magnezia Bunny turned to the stranger. 
 Her open lips suffered a cry of surprise to escape. 
 "Mah man!" and then the gangling and de 
 feated bride fainted on top of the general heap 
 
LILY 243 
 
 of brunet humanity, goat hair, horns and legs 
 that writhed before her. 
 
 The bull-voiced stranger picked her up. 
 "Wake up, woman! Rise an' repent! OF 
 Gunnel Fairfield promised me loose f'm de stone- 
 house. Got de pardon papeh in my hand. 
 Wake up an 7 come 'long befo' I knocks you dream 
 less ! Whut you mean rampagin' roun' ! Come 
 'longheah." 
 
 Ten seconds later Mis' Magnezia Bunny had 
 been hauled out through the open door of the 
 church. Her wrist was imprisoned in a grasp 
 compared to which her clutch on Demmy had 
 been a bond of gossamer. 
 
 At the mourner's bench the prostrate Demmy 
 opened one eye. "Who lit de dynamite?" 
 
 The Wildcat answered him. "Ain't no dy 
 namite. Lady Luck saved you, wid de help of 
 Lily. Stay still whilst dat bellerin' boy gits ol' 
 Magnezia down de street. Dat's her righteous 
 husban' whut ol' Gunnel sot free. Tol' you three 
 times wuz out. Hot dam! Rise an' shine, po' 
 mourner, you is free!" 
 
 Colonel Fairfield, rich in experience with the 
 whims and failings of the brunet toilers of the 
 
244 LILY 
 
 South, betrayed no surprise when on Monday the 
 Wildcat and Demmy asked for the wages due 
 them. "Where are you boys headed for from 
 here, in case the hangman asks about you 9" 
 
 The Wildcat and Demmy laughed heartily in 
 the manner expected of them. "Gunnel, suh, us 
 aims to ketch de train fo' Memphis whah at my 
 ol' Cap'n Jack lives. Got to retreat dis Demmy 
 niggeh f'm whah dese wile wimmin' is so ragin'. 
 Spec' does he stay in Vicksburg one mo' week 
 he'd be penned up permanent wid some animil 
 trainer. De boy is light built but when he falls 
 he falls heavy. Yass suh!" 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 IN France, throughout the war, Captain Jack 
 marched in time with the music, and when 
 the bugles of conflict gave place to the fid 
 dling dances of the peace conference he lan 
 guished with the inactive victors until he awak 
 ened to a new interest in life which left him a 
 bound captive, meshed in the bonds of love's 
 young dream and totally married to the only girl 
 in the world. 
 
 With his bride, the daughter of a senator who 
 knew his business, Captain Jack returned to his 
 home in Memphis. The home-coming was un 
 marked, and marred by no adventure except the 
 disappearance of the sidetracked Wildcat who 
 managed to get himself lost in the jungles of 
 New York, San Francisco and several way sta 
 tions. 
 
 Thereafter, for more than a year, Captain Jack 
 bore up under his loss as best he could, relieving 
 his acute distress now and then by profane and 
 complex threats, spoken under his breath, con- 
 
 245 
 
246 LILY 
 
 cerning the fate that awaited the prodigal Wild 
 cat when that truant should see fit to return to 
 his master's range of action. These outbursts 
 usually followed upon the installation of some 
 new servant in Captain Jack's house. No longer 
 were his days marked by the languid routine of 
 a play-lover's life in the South. Business was 
 business now and overtime was devoted to what 
 seemed to be a perpetual round of formal en 
 tertainments staged by his wife and inspired by 
 that lady's sense of her social duties. 
 
 Where his establishment had numbered two 
 black servants were now half a dozen whose com 
 plexions ranged the scale from olive to ebony. 
 Captain Jack's personal servant, a mustard- 
 faced youth from Jamaica who spoke extrava 
 gant English and never forgot his British origin, 
 had been installed some months before and had 
 held his job only because Captain Jack was dis 
 couraged and done with experiments which seemed 
 invariably to land him one degree further down 
 the scale of personal comfort. The Jamaica 
 quadroon, schooled as a servant in houses of the 
 foreign residents of his native island, knew his 
 work. After the first month in Captain Jack's 
 house this Eustace Somerset, being mostly ape 
 under the skin, knew more about Captain Jack's 
 
LILY 247 
 
 personal whims than that individual himself. 
 "He's careful enough, my dear," the master of 
 the house admitted to the mistress thereof, "care 
 ful enough and does his work, but I can't get used 
 to having a nigger around me that talks better 
 English than I do, fact is he makes me feel in 
 ferior." 
 
 "Jack, you're silly. He's the best boy you 
 ever had. And whenever I see the servants that 
 infest these other houses I'm tempted to import 
 a dozen more of Somerset's kind. Somehow he 
 lends,' not distinction something he is dif 
 ferent. That's all there is to it. I wish 
 some of these Memphis darkies were more like 
 him/' 
 
 To this terminal fate, riding the jim-crow day- 
 coach from Vicksburg, the Wildcat and Demmy 
 rolled through the long day and well into the 
 winter afternoon. Alighting in the Memphis 
 station and comparing himself with some of the 
 better dressed brunets that languished around him 
 the Wildcat was conscious of some slight ambi 
 tion to police his external effect before present 
 ing himself to his white-folks. "Us might git 
 some pants, Demmy, an' a shirt whut ain't so 
 tore. OP Cap'n Jack see me dis way like as not 
 he knock me loose f'm my backbone." 
 
248 LILY 
 
 "Ain't got much time, Wilecat, near sundown 
 
 now." 
 
 Demmy's vote, together with a sneaking ambi 
 tion to be knocked loose from his backbone or to 
 suffer some similar compliment at Captain Jack's 
 hands, carried the day and forthwith the trio 
 headed for the house that henceforth was to shelter 
 them. "Demmy, soon as us sees de Cap'n us 
 says howdy to de cook. Sho' hungry. Las' 
 time I lef' de place dey wuz a gran' woman 
 cookin' fo' Cap'n Jack. Heavy set woman but 
 a oP han' wid de real vittles. Woman named 
 Boone. Husban' wuz dat yaller Honeytone 
 Boone whut uplifted us boys durin' de wah." 
 
 "You tol' me 'bout dat boy dis aftehnoon. 
 I remembers." 
 
 "Ain't gwine see him. Dat boy 'fraid to come 
 prowlin' 'roun' dis town. Heah's de street. 
 Lawd gosh, ain't dat house nach'ral. . . . Whut's 
 all dem white folks comin' out? Neveh seed so 
 many ladies in de place." 
 
 "Looks like high tone folks. Visitin' prolly." 
 
 "Prolly is. Us goes down dis alley an' in de 
 back way, Demmy." 
 
 Up the alley, with Lily at their heels, trailed 
 the pair until they came to the door of the wood 
 shed that bounded the back of Captain Jack's 
 
LILY 249 
 
 property. The Wildcat fumbled with the latch 
 for a moment before he managed to open it. 
 "Got a new kind of fastnin' on dis place." En 
 tering the shed he noted that the interior had 
 been considerably cleaned up since his former 
 occupancy. "Dat paint makes de place look like 
 dese new houses whut's too fancy to git com- 
 f table in. All de trash cleaned out, place don't 
 seem so homelike, Demmy, p'liced up like 'spec- 
 tion day in de A. E. F." 
 
 Demmy reserved comment. "I betteh wait 
 heah, Wilecat, 'till you sees yo' white-folks an' 
 'ranges fo' Cap'n Jack to hire me on." 
 
 "Dat's right. You wait heah wid Lily." The 
 Wildcat's tone reflected something of old au 
 thority borrowed from previous association. 
 "Wait heah whilst I fixes dis job bizness wid de 
 big man." 
 
 Alone the fixer prowled out of the woodshed 
 in the direction of the house. En route to the 
 back door he noted that the back lawn had been 
 renovated, bordering rubbish eliminated, and 
 two new steady-put clothes lines rigged from 
 trimly painted poles. 
 
 Confidently he mounted the short stairway that 
 led to the kitchen door. He hesitated about open 
 ing the door without ceremony and then, con- 
 
250 LILY 
 
 ceding a point for fear of offending the cook on 
 whom he proposed to lean heavily, he comprom 
 ised by knocking loud and long on the reso 
 nant panels that framed the swinging screen. 
 
 There was a delay in answering. He knocked 
 again, and this time indignation sounded in his 
 summons. He tried the door and it was hooked. 
 
 He heard some parley, evidently passing be 
 tween the cook and a peaked voiced male. "Som- 
 'set, honey, see who's makin' de clatter on dat 
 back do'. I's in de flouh to my el-bones an' 
 kaint leave dese biskits." 
 
 The Wildcat proposed to tell the world who 
 was making the clatter. Into the interior of the 
 house he called loudly. "It's me. Open dis 
 do'!" 
 
 He heard the cook's voice. "Who is you, 
 imp'dence'?" And then, through the door, he 
 saw the approaching form of his mustard-faced 
 rival, Eustace Somerset, late of Highgate, Mid 
 dlesex County, Jamacia. 
 
 "Whah at's Cap'n Jack? Open dis do'." 
 
 "Leave off the racket. I am Eustace Somer 
 set, the Captain's valet. What is your business 
 with the gentleman*?" The quadroon's inter 
 rogation sounded to the Wildcat like a challenge 
 from a guard-house sentry. 
 
LILY 251 
 
 "Uppity, how come you cravin' to know so 
 much? Bizness wid Cap'n Jack is pussonal 
 'twixt us. I tells you fo' de las' time, open dis 
 do'." 
 
 An instant later the heavy inner door slammed 
 in the Wildcat's face. He realized finally that 
 this preliminary interview was ended. He 
 thought some of tearing off a wing of the house 
 and then consideration for Captain Jack's prop 
 erty prevailed and he soothed himself with a few 
 red hot promises of what he would do to Eustace 
 Somerset whenever Lady Luck booned him with 
 a chance to get close enough to that individual 
 to deprive him loose from about nine pounds of 
 dark meat. "Useless Som'set! I makes him 
 useless. Yaller nigger! Huh! I learns him 
 manners de fust time I ketches him loose. 
 Learns him so much dey kaint tell him f'm de 
 leavin's! Ax me whut I wants wid ol' Cap'n 
 Jack!" 
 
 He walked back to the woodshed where 
 Demmy waited hopefully for news of the new 
 job where a light built boy could lean heavy on 
 the kitchen throughout the winter. "Cap'n Jack 
 ain't home, Demmy. Us goes down to Willie 
 Webster's place an' waits 'roun' 'till de Cap'n 
 comes back." 
 
252 LILY 
 
 He led the way to Willie Webster's barber 
 shop, retailing, en route, the details of his en 
 counter ^ with the Somerset person. When 
 he came to the shop he walked in the front door. 
 At his heels trailed Demmy and the faithful 
 mascot. 
 
 The Webster organization consisted of a two- 
 chair industry devoted to plain and fancy ton- 
 sorial effects, with musk extra, and hair straight- 
 ener fifty cents. When the Wildcat entered, the 
 front room was empty, save for a pair of sleeping 
 hounds and the assistant whose presence gave the 
 proprietor enough freedom from professional 
 occupation to conduct an intermittent gambling 
 den and athletic club in the room behind his 
 shop. 
 
 "Whah's Willie?" The Wildcat wanted to 
 know. 
 
 The somnolent assistant moved his lower 
 jaw. "Willie, heah's a man whut wants to see 
 you." 
 
 A faint clicking of parading cubes ceased and 
 in a moment the Wildcat saw his barber friend 
 emerging from the portals of the door to the 
 back room. "Wilecat! Well, I be dog! 
 Whah you been all dis long time?" 
 
LILY 253 
 
 "Willie, dis my fren' Demmy. I been travel- 
 lin' back. How is you?" 
 
 "Middlin', eatin' reg'lar. Kaint complain. 
 Come on in de confidential parlor whah de gal 
 lopers is pastured, bring yo' fren' an' dat mas 
 cot. Looks like dat goat has growed since las' 
 
 we met." 
 
 "Growed meaner. Gittin' old." 
 
 The trio, with Lily, passed into the back room, 
 wherein was gathered a mixed audience of other 
 wise unemployed. Nearly all of them were old 
 friends of the Wildcat and the chorus of greeting 
 was appropriate to the reunion. After the first 
 furore of salutations had 9ied down Demmy was 
 introduced and then, following a direct lead, the 
 Wildcat asked his little world who, why and 
 how much was the yaller Som'set named nigger 
 who worked for Captain Jack. 
 
 The replies were various. "Jamaica nigger 
 . . . great han' wid de wimmin at socials an' such 
 like . . . speaks sort of N' Orleans French . . . 
 talks like a preacheh only he uses bigger words 
 :i i . neveh sees him at no chu'ch . . . workin' 
 for Cap'n Jack goin' on six months. . ." 
 
 Demmy asked two questions. 
 
 "Claims he's Jamaica boy*?" 
 
254 LILY 
 
 "Sho' do. Claims he's a British nigger. 
 Worked fo' gov'ment folks in Jamaica an' Barb- 
 'dos an' Trin'dad an* all dem English places." 
 
 "Speaks French?" 
 
 "Some, low down. De N'Orleans boys kin 
 make him out." 
 
 "Huh!" Demmy grunted once and thereafter 
 reserved all further comment and criticism. 
 
 A member of the assemblage volunteered some 
 more information. "Wilecat, you gits a chance 
 to meet dis Som'set, social like, nex' Wens' day 
 night does you crave to. Sis' Tilly Crimmit is 
 gwine to give a party We'nsday night. You 
 knows Sis' Tilly. Come 'long an' bring Demmy. 
 You gits a meetin' wid dis Som'set nigger at 
 Sis' Tilly's house." 
 
 "Me an' Demmy sho' come." 
 
 In a secluded corner of the room the crap game 
 which had been sidetracked by the Wildcat's ar 
 rival, suddenly came to life. Willie Webster 
 issued an invitation to the Wildcat and Demmy. 
 "Git in an' see kin you make de clickers behave." 
 
 The stakes were running light and with more 
 than four hundred dollars in the Wildcat's pocket 
 his craving for action was not acute. "Much 
 'bliged, Willie. Me an' Demmy aims to git 
 
LILY 25$ 
 
 some clo'es an' projec' roun' some to-night. Us 
 rides dem gallopers some otheh time. Sees you 
 lateh." 
 
 The next half -hour was devoted to the pur 
 chase of clothes. After a while the Wildcat 
 and Demmy, laden with wrapped raiment, drifted 
 to a hotel where they negotiated for temporary 
 quarters. They emerged presently clad in the 
 new outfit and sought food. At a restaurant, 
 after the first few pounds of the evening rations 
 had been disposed of, Demmy voiced his message 
 of comfort to his companion. "Don't you git 
 pestered wid dis yaller nigger, Wilecat. Dat 
 boy las' quick f'm now on. I knows dem island 
 niggers. Worked on a sugar boat goin' on two 
 yeahs down theah. Worked another yeah on a 
 banana boat roun' Hayti an' Jamaica. Dat 
 Som'set nigger last jes' so long befo' something 
 outlasts him. Mebbe he won't las' dat long. 
 Us sees him at de party We'nsday night an' you 
 sees how triflin' he is." 
 
 "Slam de do' in my face, Demmy. Didn't 
 tell you dat." 
 
 "Neveh mind, Wilecat. Befo' us is done wid 
 him he be pray in' fo' rain an' smell in' smoke 
 whah his feet hits de road. Us crematizes dat 
 
256 LILY 
 
 nigger in his own leavin' heat. I knows, an' I 
 tells you." 
 
 'Tomorr' I sees Cap'n Jack an' tells him he 
 don't need dis Som'set no longer an' den " 
 
 "Wilecat, leave me advise you. Wait 'till 
 dat boy is gone fust. Den when you sees de 
 Cap'n dey ain't no hitch. When you sees dis 
 Som'set at de party We'nsday night you gives 
 him de run so he neveh comes back." 
 
 "Whut you mean, cut him loose f'm Memphis 
 wid de blood hook?" 
 
 "Dat's de las' thing I means. No blood ruckus. 
 Jes' promise whut you aims to do." 
 
 "Demmy, gin' ally I hates to do de promishY 
 fust but dis time I does whut you sez. I talks 
 to dat boy an' warns him. Afteh dat, 'less he 
 heeds de spoken promise, I cuts him down to 
 grass-size an' lets Lily eat de remains." 
 
 "Dat nigger leave easy, Wilecat. I knows his 
 kind. Ripe orange nigger. Yaller f'm skin to 
 skin." 
 
 At Sis' Tilly's party Wednesday night the 
 Wildcat and Demmy preceded the enemy by 
 fifteen minutes. The pair edged toward the 
 crowd that had already swarmed around a huge 
 
LILY 257 
 
 tin dishpan in which was a mixture which from 
 its aroma promised to carry enough authority to 
 make it worth drinking. Sis' Tilly and her hus 
 band, who was the ninth floor janitor of one of 
 the tallest buildings in Memphis, had a reputa 
 tion for hospitality second to none, and hospitality 
 in the brunet elect there present was gauged 
 by the alcohol index of the refreshments served. 
 
 With the Wildcat's third cup of the invigorat 
 ing fluid he heard in his ear the voice of his 
 hostess. "Mistah Marsden, lemme make you 
 'quainted to Misteh Som'set. Misteh Som'set 
 wuks fo' yo' ol' miPtary leadeh, I spec' you gits 
 fren'ly real soon 'count o' dat." 
 
 Demmy, standing beside the Wildcat, figgered 
 that Sis' Tilly had one more guess coming to 
 her. 
 
 The Wildcat threw diplomacy and reserve to 
 the four winds. "I knows dis nigger, Sis' Tilly." 
 He turned to his rival. "Som'set, git away f'm 
 me 'till I gits done wid my likker." Deliberately 
 he spilled the dregs of his third cup on the quad 
 roon's polished shoes. "Useless, stan' back befo' 
 you gits drowned." 
 
 Ten seconds later, with half a dozen burly 
 male guests restraining the vociferous pair, the 
 Wildcat's challenge was answered direct and with- 
 
258 LILY 
 
 out immediate assistance. "Mr. Marsden, it will 
 afford me great pleasure to have the opportunity 
 of meeting you in the squared circle to-morrow 
 night." 
 
 "You means you 'cepts*?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 The Wildcat addressed the company. "Folks, 
 I 'pologizes fo' havin' any hand in a ruckus in 
 Sis' Tilly's house. I 'vites you one an' all to 
 de second an' last roun' twixt me an' dis Som'- 
 set nigger tomorr' night in de back room of Willie 
 Webster's barber shop. De rough' ree betteh 
 bring a shovel to save funeral charges on dis 
 Useless afteh I blows his pussonal Taps. Sez 
 us!" 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 ON the day following the clash at Sis' 
 Tilly's party, Demmy, acting as the 
 Wildcat's trainer and coach, moral ad 
 viser, manager and second, got into action with 
 the rising sun, and by nine o'clock the ring cos 
 tume for his principal had been created from the 
 lower half of a purple swimming suit. The 
 alterations which transformed the trunks into bat 
 tle raiment consisted largely of six loops sewed 
 around the waistband. Through these loops was 
 laced a thick felt band bearing, in painted capi 
 tals, unconfirmed, the word: "CHAMPION." 
 
 Shortly after nine o'clock Demmy returned to 
 the hotel room with the battler's uniform. At 
 his manager's request the Wildcat had remained 
 in bed, resting. He was presented with the slogan 
 bearing pants. "Put dese on you, Wilecat, an' 
 wear 'em. Save time when it comes to de finish 
 to-night." 
 
 "Whut dem words say on dem pants, Demmy ? 
 You knows I kaint read." 
 
 259 
 
260 LILY 
 
 "Dey says cham'peen. Ain't no doubt is you." 
 
 The Wildcat slid into his champion pants and 
 then set about festooning himself with his outer 
 raiment. Throughout the day he wore the pants 
 and derived comfort and moral courage from the 
 secret knowledge that he was branded with truth 
 and that when he stepped into the ring the world 
 could read the broadcasted facts without having to 
 wait for a demonstration. 
 
 At breakfast, against his trainer's advice, 
 the Wildcat had indulged himself heartily. 
 "Demmy, I don't aim to let no prize fight 'floo- 
 ence me against rations. Whilst I kin, I eats. 
 Dat's my slogum, eat whilst you kin git it 
 'cause some day OP Man Trouble ketches you 
 an' aft eh dat yo' teeth gits a furlough." 
 
 When the rations had been met and conquered 
 the pair returned to the Wildcat's room. "Git 
 rested, Wilecat," Demmy advised. "Lay down 
 an' stay down 'till it's time to eat some mo'. 
 Save yo' strength." 
 
 This was an appealing program and the Wild 
 cat adopted it. Through the day, until long after 
 noon he snored himself into condition to hand 
 his rival the slogan-proving ticket to dreamland. 
 
 In the contest department of Willie Webster's 
 barber shop the battle-pen was finished by four 
 
LILY 261 
 
 o'clock and the ropes which had seen service in 
 a dozen similar encounters were stretched as tight 
 as the canvas covering that concealed the floor of 
 the elevated ring structure. 
 
 The arena was ready for action before the 
 Wildcat had finished his elaborate supper. 
 
 At six o'clock, from various sources, Demmy's 
 ears were assailed with bits of whispered dope 
 concerning the opposition. All of the gossip was 
 adverse and it reacted unfavorably on the sawed- 
 off second. He joined his principal and the 
 Wildcat was quick to note some change in his 
 companion's mood. "How come you so down- 
 casted, Demmy *? Li'l while an' de skies is clear." 
 
 "Ain't downcasted, Wilecat. You mistook 
 my look. Go easy on dem spinnage greens. 
 Greens kills yo' vigor." 
 
 "I is. Dey eats easy. How is de bettin"?" 
 
 "Bettin' is even. Dey's some money comin* 
 out on Som'set, mos'ly f'm outside niggers." 
 
 The Wildcat hauled out his roll. He handed 
 it to Demmy. "Boy, heah's goin' on fo' hund'ed 
 dollahs dat us win f'm dat Sledge man wid dc 
 clickers. Stand it up whah it kin broadcast its 
 meanin' whilst I knocks dat Som'set nigger loose 
 f'm his job wid my white folks." 
 
 Demmy took the roll. "I bets it, Wilecat. 
 
262 LILY 
 
 I got to git my own cash laid out. Us betteh 
 git to de place now. Gong at eight." 
 
 "Le's go. Us beats de gong." 
 
 The pair walked to the Webster establishment 
 where half the spectators had gathered. The 
 Wildcat was accorded a reception which left no 
 doubt in his mind as to the outcome of the fray. 
 Through the crowd he plowed his way, leading his 
 mascot goat behind him, and his progress was a 
 continual march of premature triumph. 
 
 Demmy lost himself in the crowd and for half 
 an hour, busy on the various mysterious errands 
 of a manager, he was absent from the Webster 
 shop. 
 
 His actions during this absence were worthy 
 of note. The first thing he did after he left the 
 crowded barber shop was to buy a red bandana 
 handkerchief at a little store. Further down the 
 street, at a butcher shop, he negotiated for a 
 handful of thin sheep ribs from the narrow end 
 of six mutton chops. He hurried to the se 
 clusion of his room with these trophies and spent 
 a feverish five minutes in scraping the shreds of 
 meat from the bones he had gathered. Then he 
 tore the red bandana handkerchief into strips two 
 inches wide, cutting each long strip into four-inch 
 sections. A ragged towel suffered the same fate. 
 
LILY 263 
 
 He stuffed the accumulation of red and white 
 rags into the side pocket of his coat and on this 
 foundation, within easy reach, he stowed the six 
 bones. 
 
 When he returned to the barber shop he lin 
 gered outside a while, horning into various groups 
 of colored humanity until he found those for 
 whom he was searching. A few hurried words 
 and the Wildcat's roll of bills was staked against 
 a like sum and deposited with the Reverend Cal 
 amus Jordan, pastor of the Third Uplift Church, 
 who was there in the interests of himself and 
 Society and whose official integrity made him a 
 stakeholder equally acceptable to both factions. 
 
 With the Wildcat's roll Demmy bet his own 
 money. "Dat's eight hund'ed, Rev'und, an' no 
 advertisin'." 
 
 "Us respec's yo' confidence, brutheh." The 
 Sphinx was garrulous compared to Rev'und Cal 
 amus Jordan. 
 
 "Dat's noble. Come wid me an 5 I gits you 
 a ringside seat." Demmy towed the walking 
 bank through the packed crowd until he came to 
 the inside room where the battle stage was wait 
 ing. He escorted the Rev'und Jordan to a seat 
 close beside the Wildcat's corner. "You sees it 
 fine f m heah." 
 
264 LILY 
 
 And from there, in case of emergencies or hur 
 ried departures, Demmy could see him fine. 
 
 A rising murmur heralded the arrival of the op 
 position. "Dat's Som'set, de yaller boy wid de 
 big coat." 
 
 In the crowd Demmy edged toward the new 
 comers. When Som'set passed him Demmy 
 reached out his hand and into the near pocket of 
 the big coat he dropped two thin bones and two 
 torn shreds of the red bandana. This accom 
 plished he retired to a secluded space near the 
 Wildcat's corner of the ring where four clothes 
 lines suspended long curtains which formed the 
 walls of the ringside dressing room. 
 
 The Wildcat was stripped to his champion 
 pants and was seated on a box, waiting easily for 
 the moment of battle. Beside him, nibbling 
 heartily on the end of a yellow necktie, sat the 
 mascot goat. 
 
 Demmy sized up his champion. "You feelin' 
 right fo' de fray?" 
 
 "Demmy, I feel a million. Is de money 
 bet?" 
 
 "All bet an' de stakeholder at de ringside." 
 
 They were interrupted by the penetrating voice 
 of Willie Webster who began to address the as 
 semblage. "Folks, git ca'm! De night's con- 
 
LILY 265 
 
 tes' is between Misteh Vitus Marsden who you 
 knows betteh as Wilecat, an' Misteh Eustis' Som- 
 'set, de great unknown. Dese men fights undeh 
 de ol j time rule bes' 'spressed by de simple advice, 
 git yo' meat. I has de honoh of servin' as 
 rough'ree. Principals an' secon's will enteh 
 de ring. . . . Folks, I interdooces Misteh Som'- 
 
 set." 
 
 A murmur of applause greeted the Somerset 
 entrance. Tthe rough'ree continued, ' 'Misteh 
 Marsden, bes' knowed as de Wildcat." 
 
 The Wildcat returned to his corner and sat 
 down in a chair beside which stood Lily. On 
 the mascot's face was a look of wonderment but 
 her expression was considerably concealed by the 
 flowing ends of the yellow necktie upon which 
 she steadily munched. Lily turned from her 
 survey of the crowd and upon the visible sections 
 of her countenance was written a question which 
 the Wildcat read and answered. 
 
 "How's it com in' out, goat, dat Som'set ain't 
 comin' out. He's goin', an' feet fust at dat." 
 
 "Blaa-a !" As well as she could Lily expressed 
 her faith in the Wildcat and her belief in the 
 truth of the Wildcat's prediction. 
 
 Demmy, busy a moment with the laces of the 
 Wildcat's thin gloves, whispered his final words 
 
266 LILY 
 
 of advice. "Stay away fm him, dat boy looks 
 heavy in de hands. Bide yo' time an' when de 
 openin' comes, fill it up !" 
 
 "Demmy, I fills it. Fills it wid my head. 
 Buttin' ain't barred." 
 
 "Nuthin' barred. Git yo s meat!" 
 
 "Us gits it. Us learns dat nigger who works 
 fo' Cap'n Jack." 
 
 Bang! The gong. Two dancing figures in 
 the center of the wide cone of light that spread 
 downward upon the arena. 
 
 The Wildcat, looking for an early chance to 
 utilize his battering ram technique, kept his head 
 low. 
 
 Som'set, light on his feet, covered the distance 
 around his opponent three times before the crowd 
 began to hand out free advice. 
 
 Lily, standing tense beside Demmy in the 
 Wildcat's corner, tried her best to understand 
 what was going on. She chewed more slowly on 
 the yellow necktie. 
 
 Then the Wildcat saw his chance. Head low, 
 he rammed straight for Som'set's belt. 
 
 "Bam!" 
 
 Before the instant of contact, which seemed 
 strangely delayed, the Wildcat was conscious of 
 some intervening catastrophe which had not been 
 
LILY 267 
 
 scheduled, something like a pussonal train wreck, 
 with sky rockets. 
 
 Som'set had side-stepped, and then with the ef 
 fective style of a mule, he had kicked his heavy 
 right foot straight for the Wildcat's neck. 
 
 The Wildcat crumpled up and dropped like a 
 sack of anvils. . . . 
 
 "Six seven eight " The rough' ree's voice 
 sounded sharp beneath the uproar. 
 
 Som'set waited for the ten, and then, bearing his 
 honors proudly, he leaned far over the side of the 
 roped arena and grasped the outstretched hands 
 that waved before him. "Thank you, thanks, 
 yes, the French technique with the foot 
 thank you, " 
 
 Lily! 
 
 A broad band of streaming goat-hair! A gal 
 loping goat! Contact! Bam! 
 
 Som'set, stooping to receive the plaudits of the 
 crowd, dived suddenly, impelled headlong from 
 the pose of pride in a curve at one end of which 
 danced the enraged and bleating mascot. 
 
 Bam! "Blaa-a!" 
 
 Cheers. 
 
 Lily, deaf to the applause which greeted her 
 victory, gazed down from the ring upon her fallen 
 victim. 
 
268 LILY 
 
 Demmy ran quickly to her side. "Goat, I'll 
 say you gits de champeen belt! Come wid me, 
 you gallopin' dynamite!" He returned to the 
 Wildcat's corner, dragging the mascot and then, 
 under cover of the turmoil, he reached downward 
 toward the Rev'und Calamus Jordan. "All right, 
 rev'und!" His hand returned carrying a tight 
 package which he stored in the depths of his right- 
 hand pocket. 
 
 This accomplished, the sawed-off second walked 
 to the Wildcat's side and held a bottle to the 
 fallen one's lips. "Wilecat, wake up, drink dis !" 
 
 "Lif 7 dat enjine off me. . . . Who flung dat 
 anvil? , f . Whuff! ... Gin! ... Whah you 
 git de gin, Demmy? Whut's all de folks doin' 
 heah?" 
 
 "Set up, Wilecat. Does you feel able to 
 walk?" 
 
 "Sho* do. Whah's Som'set?" 
 
 * c Dey's carry in' dat nigger to de clo'es room 
 f 'm whah he lit. Looks like he's killed. 
 
 "Whah at I hit dat boy?" 
 
 "In de foot. Wid yo' neck. Drink dis gin 
 an' us goes away sudden." 
 
 Demmy stopped only long enough to edge into 
 the opposition's dressing room, ostensibly to ex 
 tend the Wildcat's compliments^ He lingered 
 
LILY 269 
 
 two minutes, finding opportunity to secrete the 
 balance of the red and white rags and the thin 
 bones in various pockets of Som'set's street clothes. 
 "When Som'set wakes up tell him git home quick," 
 he advised, "Cap'n Jack likely need him/' 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE Wildcat, able to walk, got some of the 
 story on his way up the street from Willie 
 Webster's place. The more he heard the 
 .worse he felt. "Don't tell me no mo', Demmy, 
 I'se heard twice a-plenty. Dat yaller baboon 
 kick me to sleep an' us sleeps 'nuf to let dat green 
 back money git away, dat nigger still got his 
 job wid Cap'n Jack an' heah us is. ... Doggone 
 dat Lady Luck, could I ketch dat woman I'd 
 run her whah de devil's waitin' wid de brimstone." 
 
 Demmy made no direct reply. "Come on, 
 Wilecat. Git goin'," he urged. "Drag dat 
 champeen goat wid you." 
 
 "Whah'susgwine?" 
 
 "Us makes de alley back of yo' Cap'n Jack's 
 house. Might see somethin' interestin' if us is in 
 time." 
 
 They turned into the alley at twenty minutes 
 before nine. In the shadows near Captain Jack's 
 woodshed they waited quietly for five minutes and 
 then the stillness of the night was broken by the 
 
 270 
 
LILY 271 
 
 sound of clattering feet. Up the alley^ half run 
 ning and moaning to himself, twisting around 
 every twenty feet to look behind him, came Som- 
 'set, the victor of the night's event. 
 
 When the runner's face was revealed by the 
 little incandescent midway of the alley it showed 
 gray except for a long skinless strip running from 
 his forehead down the bridge of his nose. He 
 was mumbling to himself -and most of his words 
 were strange to the Wildcat's ears. "Zomby! 
 Ah sweet Lard ! Key-bless ! Eyes that look at 
 the sun ! Sweet Lard on high ! Hornless goat ! 
 Zomby! Papal oi git me! Red rag and the 
 white bone! Zomby! Voodoo!" 
 
 " Whut ails dat boy ?" The Wildcat whispered 
 his question. 
 
 "Shut up. Lissen him go ! Wait quiet." 
 
 The frenzied Som'set fumbled with the latch on 
 the woodshed door. He opened the door and 
 when he was inside and on his way to the house 
 Demmy ventured 1 another suggestion. "Come in 
 de woodshed quick. Dat nigger comes back 
 mighty sudden 'less I'se crazy." 
 
 The pair secreted themselves in the dark end 
 of the woodshed and wedged the mascot goat be 
 tween them. They waited less than two minutes 
 and again they heard the tortured voice of the 
 
272 LILY 
 
 yaller Eustace. ' 'Redeeming Lard! Red rag 
 and the white bone ! Wow-ooo ! Zomby !" 
 
 The frenzied traveller carried a suit case with 
 him and he shrivelled with the fear of some in 
 visible menace. 
 
 "Demmy, dat boy gives me de creeps. Sho' 
 acted crazy. Whut you 'spose ails him?" 
 
 When the departing Som'set neared the far end 
 of the alley the Wildcat, who had emerged from 
 the woodshed to watch him go, ventured an 
 other question. "Whut kin ail dat travellin' 
 fool?' 
 
 His companion did not reply directly. In 
 stead, "Wilecat, you ain't seen no speed yet. 
 Watch him now an' you sees him begin to travel 
 easy," he advised. Demmy cupped his hands 
 and moaned a long-drawn reverberating word 
 after the fugitive. "Zbmmm-m-m. Zom-by!" 
 
 "Lawd, Demmy, look at dat boy go. Laigs 
 twinklin' ! Wuz de tongues out dat boy's shoes 
 he'd be flyin' !" 
 
 In the distance the racing Som'set seemed to 
 triple his pace at Demmy's launching cry. 
 
 The accelerator turned to his companion. "Go 
 on in an' git yo' job wid Cap'n Jack. Dat 
 Som'set nigger neveh comin' back to dis place. 
 Neveh no mo' ! ?? 
 
LILY 273 
 
 "I'se gwine, Demmy, but befo' I busts tell me 
 whut ails dat yaller hounV 
 
 "Nuthin' ails him, 'cept de Zombies is afteli 
 him. Ghosts, dat's whut dem niggers mos' 
 dreads. OP Zomby comes an' leaves a sign, 
 li'l bone or else mebbe a oP piece of rag an' dem 
 Hayti niggers goes hog wild. Jamaica! Huh! 
 Wilecat, when dey toP me dat boy talked dis 
 French-like talk I look close an* seed de Hayti 
 blue undeh his yaller skin. I'se been in Hayti 
 on a banana boat. I knows dem island niggers. 
 Knows dem an' all dat voodoo stuff dey believes." 
 
 "Demmy, all I sez is hot dam! You beats 
 hell! Mebbe you is middlin' sized outside but 
 inside yo' head you is all whale meat. Come on 
 heah wid me 'till oP Cap'n Jack gits a look at de 
 livin' wondeh of de worP !" 
 
 "Go git yo' job wid yo' white- folks. Me an' 
 dis champeen goat waits in de shed whilst you 
 meets de big man." 
 
 The Wildcat started away and for a moment 
 Demmy gazed at his companion in silence. Then 
 he reached into the depths of his right-hand pocket 
 after the package which Rev'und Calamus Jordan 
 had handed up from the ringside after the sudden 
 conclusion of the battle. "Wilecat, come back a 
 minnit." He spread a thick stack of greenbacks 
 
274 L I L Y 
 
 on the floor of the woodshed and divided the 
 pile into two parts. "Wilecat, heah's yo' fo' 
 hun'ded dollahs an' de same repeated. Dat's 
 whut you win when " 
 
 "Whut I win 4 ? How you bet dat money ?" 
 
 "I figgered you didn't know dem French nig 
 gers kick, an' dat de accident might git you. 
 It did. Heah's yo' winnin's. I bet on Som'set." 
 
 "Demmy, all I sez is dis, has Lady Luck got 
 a husban' you is him ! Hot dam ! Boy, I repeats 
 my fust claim, no matteh how light built you is 
 outside, de inside of yo' head is solid gold whale 
 meat!" 
 
 The enthusiast turned to his mascot goat. 
 "Lily, spit out whut you is eatin'. Me an' 
 Demmy buys you di'monds to eat does Lady Luck 
 keep travellin' like she done to-night!" 
 
 Demmy interposed a suggestion. "Betteh go 
 on in now an' see Cap'n Jack. Me an' Lily waits 
 heah whilst us gits hired on." 
 
 Stepping high the Wildcat made his second 
 trip to Captain Jack's back door. His knock was 
 answered this time by the cook. "Whut you 
 want, rappin' de do' so late?" 
 
LILY 275 
 
 "Craves to meet up wid Cap'n Jack. Leave 
 me in, woman, befo' I tells him to send you fo' 
 help." 
 
 "Whut you mean, uppity, help fo' whut'?" 
 
 "Cookin' help. When I gits through wid Cap'n 
 Jack I aims to learn you how much I kin eat. 
 You thinks I eats a meal, when I is eatin' right 
 it takes you an' two mo' agile cooks to handle de 
 ,grub. When I eats I splatters gravy miles 
 aroun'! Whah's my white- folks'?" 
 
 "In de li'bary, honey. Cap'n is restin'. 
 G'long in. Come back an' I feeds you. Git 
 goin' you champeen vittle snake !" 
 
 The Wildcat made his way to the front of the 
 house. Midway of his journey he dropped his 
 hat on the floor when, through an open doorway, 
 he saw his Captain Jack. He came to a sudden 
 halt and stood silent for a minute looking at 
 his own white-folks. A sudden fear gripped 
 him then and a terrific wave of apprehension 
 swept over him. "Whut if de Cap'n fails 
 
 me!' 
 
 He looked around him. Through the half- 
 open door of a coat closet he saw a faded olive- 
 drab overcoat with the three golden chevrons of 
 the A. E. F. on the left sleeve. 
 
 He lifted the coat from its hook and brushed! 
 
276 LILY 
 
 it lightly with his hand. Then he began curry 
 ing it gently with his own coat-sleeve. As he 
 worked he looked not at the faded coat but at the 
 white man seated in the zone of light that spread 
 over the library table. "My own white-folks!" 
 
 He quit work on the coat and devoted himself 
 to the single business of looking at Captain Jack. 
 
 Presently the brushing was resumed, this time 
 with unusual industry, and to his labor the Wild 
 cat breathed an accompaniment of whispered 
 song: 
 
 "Eats when I kin git it, sleeps mos* all de time, 
 
 I don't give a doggone if de sun don't neveh shine. . . ." 
 
 Captain Jack looked up ! 
 The song grew from a whisper to a bee-size 
 humming : 
 
 "Dat's de reason I'se happy as a bee, 
 
 I don't botheh work when work don't botheh me." 
 
 "Wildcat! Come here!" 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh!" In four long strides the 
 prodigal gained the library. He clicked stiffly 
 to attention and swung a perfect salute toward 
 Captain Jack. "Cap'n suh, us is heah!" 
 
LILY 277 
 
 "At rest! Cut that monkey business out* 
 Where in hell have you been 4 ?" 
 
 The Wildcat relaxed one millionth of an inch* 
 "Cap'n suh, no place 'cept comin' back to you. 
 Been comin' de longes' time ! Sho' proud to see 
 you. Dis coat seems mussed up bad, some tri- 
 flin' nigger " 
 
 "Put it back." 
 
 Captain Jack turned from the Wildcat and 
 called through the doorway. "Eustace! Eu 
 stace Somerset!" 
 
 "Cap'n suh, dat useless nigger is left. Is he 
 still goin' de way he wuz when I seed him las' 
 he be in Cuba by bedtime." 
 
 Captain Jack looked at the Wildcat and a faint 
 smile on his face served to soften his words, "Go 
 upstairs and get the shotgun in my room. I aim 
 to kill you about the time Eustace lands in Cuba. 
 Tell the cook to feed you first. I don't want to 
 kill you on an empty stomach." 
 
 "Cap'n suh, yessuh! Sho' will." Departing, 
 he hesitated at the doorway for a moment. "Deys 
 a boy wid me, Cap'n, sort of sawed-off, dwin- 
 dlin' nigger named Demmy. Boy seems took 
 bad wid de work itch. Mebbe could you let him 
 trim de grass an' " 
 
 "Is he a good boy?" 
 
278 LILY 
 
 "Cap'n suh, de bes' boy I'se eveh seed!" 
 
 "Tell the cook to feed him. Bed him down. 
 I'll try him. If he's no good I'll kill both of 
 you Friday afternoon when I get more time." 
 
 "Cap'n, yessuh !" In spite of orders to the con 
 trary the Wildcat contributed full military honors 
 to the ceremony of his exit, but once clear of the 
 zone of visibility his manner changed. By the 
 time he reached the kitchen he was a writhing 
 personification of Old Man Joy. "Cook, honey, 
 git de skillit on de fire! Prepare heavy fo' my 
 secon' comin'. I gits back in two minnits an* I 
 warns you, woman, git goin' strong wid my ra 
 tions befo' sudden death delays you!" 
 
 The whirlwind galloped to the woodshed where 
 waited Demmy and the mascot goat. "Hot dam, 
 Demmy ! Us is hired on ! OP Cap'n sez f o' us 
 both to git to work! De fust job is trainin' dat 
 cook how big a ration kin be when it's fo' me an' 
 you. Git comin' ! Come 'long, Lily, befo' de 
 flies eats you! . . . Lady Luck, heah us is!" 
 
 THE END 
 
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 LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS 
 
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 Wiley, H. 
 Lily. 
 
 PS3545 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
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