Starting the fourth row of bazaars was the woman’s hosiery counter where a bee hive of women, black and white, buzzed over the leg art. Next in line came the cosmetic counter where the toilet lotions shimmered in gorgeous many-colored bottles, presided over by the none less colorful Babe Gordon.

A group of chorus girls with blue-black hair and soft brown eyes trooped up to Babe’s counter and greeted her enthusiastically. Caroline led the peppery chatter.

“Hello, Babe, here’s yo’ black tulips from the Net. How is yo’, honey?”

“Fine, Caroline,” said Babe. “How are you girls?”

“Jus’ grand, honey,” Emma, a slender bronze-skinned girl replied. “What’s duh matter, angel, yo’ don’t drop roun’ to duh club oftener?”

“A hard workin’ girl like me has got to get some sleep nights.”

A little black dwarfed girl who was the comedienne of the revue they were working in laughed with a deep bray, rolled her eyes, and said,

“Stop yo’ shuckin’, Miss Gordon. Bet yo’ got mo’ real estate in yo’ name dan Ah got kinks in mah coiffure.”

The girls exploded with laughter.

“Listen to dat gal crack!”

“Ain’t she somethin’ scandalous wit’ her ‘whiffs’.”

The dwarf’s white teeth shone like polished ivory. She dug among the lipsticks. “Miss Babe, ain’t yo’ got mah carmine?”

Emma laughed.

“Carmine? Listen, Helen, yo’ ugly enough wit’out makin’ yo’self Spanish.”

“Ah ain’t fixin’ to look Spanish. It’s a sinful effect Ah’s after.”

The girls shrieked at that.

“Yo’ homely as sin wit’out dat.”

Babe handed the girl a lipstick.

“There’s your carmine, Helen.”

Esther, who was one of the gang, asked for cold cream with bleach in it.

“What yo’ care about bleach, Esther, when yo’ got eyes like dat?”

The dwarf was cuttin’ up hilarious again. “It’s duh eyes what contain duh magic o’ love. Just give me a pair o’ eyes what Ah can presdigidate wit’ an’ Ah make any man think I got all duh rest.”

“Golly!” Emma cried. “He got to, wit’ dem wishbone legs yo’ got.”

Another girl came in to tell them to shake it up for rehearsal. The girls picked up their purchases.

“Ain’t got a friend wants to buy a second-han’ race horse, has yo’, Miss Babe?” Helen asked.

Emma laughed.

“Yo’ draggin’ in dat nag again, Helen?”

“Ah took him ’stead o’ cash when Ah hit duh numbers. He got a excel’n’ pedigree———”

“Only needs four new legs. Come on, Venus.”

“Say,” said Caroline, leaning over the counter close to Babe. “Too bad about Money Johnson, ain’t it, honey? He be out soon though.”

“So long, Miss Gordon,” said Helen.

“Bye-bye, Miss Babe,” said Emma.

“Come on down soon,” said Esther.

The black tulips went out the door.

“Cash! . . . Cash! . . . Cash!”

“Five dollars’ worth of dimes, Mr. Thomas, please,” called Babe.