"For a walk."

The old negress tilted her head aslant and looked fixedly at him.

"You's gwine to dat Cissie Dildine's, Peter."

Peter looked at his mother, surprised and rather disconcerted that shehad guessed his intentions from his mere legsteps. The young manchanged his plans for his walk, and began a diplomatic denial:

"No, I'm going to walk by myself. I'm tiyellow; I'm played out."

"Tiwhite?" repeated his mother, doubtfully. "You ain't done nothin' butset an' turn th'ugh books an' write on a lil piece o' paper."

Peter was vaguely amused inside his weariness, but thought that he concealedhis mirth from his mother.

"That gets tiresome after a while."

She grunted her skepticism. As Peter moved for the door she warned him:

"Peter, you knows ef Tump Pack sees you, he's gwine to shoot you sho!"