He looked up. "Cupid," he says, "us fellers don't like t' git you
stirred up, but we think it's about time someone oughta speak--and put
you next."
"Next about what?" I ast. The way he said it give me a kinda start.
"We've saw how things was a-goin', but we didn't say nothin' to you
'cause it wasn't none of our funeral. Quite a spell back, folks begun
to talk about how crazy Macie Sewell was gittin' to be on the singin'
question. It leaked out that she'd been tole she had a A1 voice----"
"It ain't no lie, neither."
"And that her warblin' come pretty clost to bein' as good as
Melba's."
"It's a heap _better'n_ Melba's."
"Also"--Hairoil fidgited some--"you know, a-course, that she's been
tackin' up photographs of op'ra singers and actresses in her room----"
"Wal, what's the harm?"
"And--and practicin' bows in front of a glass."