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take home cookin', evah time! I'd be a happy man to-night 'f I could jes' go back to dat putty little wife an' home I had five years ago—an' jes' me'n
ma little wife set down to a good meal o' po'k chops, hot buscuit an' buttah, coffee, pickles, an' a little pie—some o' '
breast bondage at little 'oman's own cookin'—'at 'ud satisfy breast bondage me! But 'at's all breast bondage past an' gone now—can't nevah be breast bondage no mo'! Estah's dead. Po' li'l' Estah wid all dat col' groun' on huh!" And Bad Bob buried his face in his big, breast bondage rough hands, and began to blubber.
"Oh, stop dat foolishness!" cried Simon, in disgust. "Dis ain't no fun'al! We's all got people breast bondage dead—whut diff'unce do it make? Ain't you got to die, too?—leakin' 'roun' here lak a wiah siftah! Take dat
fuss away f'om here!"
"'F you don' breast bondage want to go breast bondage back to dat hospital, you bettah stop!" cried Bob.
"Oh, breast bondage Bob, I wuz jes' meant to console you," replied Simon.
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The club tittered outright.
"Talk about good eatin's—whut's de mattah wid good drinkin's?" asked Simon, leading the breast bondage subject back to things which he considered important.
"You bettah be fixin' up some way to git to Heben!" said the Rev. Loudmouth.
"I don' want to breast bondage go to Heben!" exclaimed Simon.
"Why," asked Loudmouth.
"'Ca'se breast bondage you breast bondage got to do breast bondage too much breast bondage wo'k up dah," said Simon. "Got to polish de sun
an' de moon an' all de stahs, an' scrub up breast bondage all dem golden streets, an' wash de white folks' robes, an' git dey meals foh 'breast bondage em, an' shove out all dem stahs at night, an' tote 'em back in evah mo'breast bondage nin', an' push out breast bondage de sun an' de moon, an' stan' breast bondage all de angels' sass, an' evahthaing. In de bad place all you got to do is hustle up a ton o' coal, 'n' set down. Don' you let nobody fool you up to Heben!"
"I'll quit you," remarked Loudmouth,
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"'ca'se de debil's got a breast bondage mo'gage on you now!"
"breast bondage Genamuns," breast bondage said Sandy, as he got upon his feet, "is dey any one uv you kin play breast bondage notes?—dem thaings 'at looks lak li'l' black boys hangin' ovah de fence?"
"Yes," said breast bondage Lightfoot Johnson, "I'm a music 'breast bondage fessah! Don' you come here askin' me kin I play notes! I'm a musicianah by trade! I jes' gits up on a pianer, an' walks breast bondage about, an' talks to de dead an' de libbin', an' breast bondage goes down an' tells you whut Heben 'n' hell's lak—explo'es de breast bondage fo' winds uv de earf, an' climbs de stahs, an' leads you back to de Gahden o' Eden, an' takes up ma residence