Why, good land a' massy! 'Sposin' we was t' hit a star, or land
on de moon? I'd look purty, wouldn't I, hangin' on one ob de
moon's horns? How's I eber gwinee git down? I axes yo' dat.
How's I gwine f git down?"
"Well," said Professor Henderson with a laugh, "if you did get
caught on one of the horns of the moon, Washington, I guess it
would be a pretty hard matter to get down."
"Dat's what I done said," insisted the colored man.
"You could slide down a moonbeam," said Jack with a laugh.
"Yes, an' mebby git hit by a comet or be kamked sensible by a
piece ob star," objected Washington, as if Jack's plan was a
feasible one. "No, sah, I ain't gwine along nohow. Dis ole
earth am good enough fo' me. I don't want to die an' go floatin'
through space. When I dies I wants t' be buried decent-like. I
ain't gwine wid yo' at all."
It began to look as if Washington's revolt was a settled fact.
Yet they depended on him to go. However, Professor Henderson
solved the problem for him.
"Who will cook my meals for me, if you don't go, Washington?" he
asked solemnly.
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