Maria's wide mouth. She dried her hands upon her apron.
"Jus' like I been tellin' yuh!" she remarked to Serena. "T'ank Gawd, Jedus ain't gots me yit wuh he gots you; an' I still mens enough tuh straighten out a crooked nigger. See dat yalluh snake wrigglin' in de do'way? He de one wut sell Bess dat happy-dus'."
Drying her hands and bared forearms with ominous thoroughness, she crossed to her shop. The room was empty when she entered. She went at once to the stove which stood in its corner, with its legs set upon four bricks. She bent forward, placed a shoulder against one of its corners, gave a heave, and drew out a brick. Then she straightened up, spat first on one hand, then on the other, and, carrying the brick in her immense right, lightly, and with a certain awful fondness, stepped out of her door.
Sportin' Life was now within the entrance, and presented an unsuspecting profile to the cook-shop.
With frightful deliberation, Maria swung her long arm back; then, like the stroke of a rattler, it shot forward. The brick caught the mulatto full on the side of the head. He crumpled among his gaudy habiliments like a stricken bird.
