Adam nodded.

``Yeah,'' Mose murmured, ``yeah. And look what he done give us.''

Adam looked at the pot. ``What is it?'' he asked.

``Chicken,'' Mose said, and theatrically licked his lips. ``Gre't big fat chicken, yeah.'' He licked his lips again.

Then: ``Yeah. A chicken with six tits and a tail lak a corkscrew. And hit squealed for slop.'' Mose giggled. ``Fooled you, huh? It is the same ole same, tell me hit's name. It is sowbelly with tits on. It is salt po'k. It is salt po'k and skippers. That po'k, it was so full of skippers it would jump and run and not come when you say, 'Hoo-pig'. Had to put my foot on it to hole it down while I cut it up fer the lob-scuse.''

He dumped the pan of crumbled hardtack into the boiling pot of lobscouse. ``Good ole lob-scuse,'' he mumbled, and stirred the pot. He stopped stirring and looked over his shoulder. ``Know what Ole Buckra et tonight?'' he demanded. ``Know what I had to fix fer Ole Him?''

Adam shook his head.

``Chicken,'' Mose said.