Parylised, they say. He's a mighty fine man. It's awful
to think of him bein' so helpless he cain't ever git out'n his cheer
ag'in. Course, if he was hisself he wouldn't think o' lettin' me out.
But bein' sick-like, he jest don't give a durn about anything. So
that's how this new sec'etary gets in his fine work on me."
"What has Mr. Loeb against you, if I may ask?"
"Well, it's like this. I ain't in the habit o' bein' ordered aroun' as
if I was jest nobody at all, so when he starts in to cuss me about
somethin' a week or so ago, I ups and tells him I'll smash his head if
he don't take it back. He takes it back all right, but the first thing
I know I get a call-down from Mrs. Collier. She's Mr. Curtis's sister,
you know. Course I couldn't tell her what I told the sheeny, seein' as
she's a female, so I took it like a lamb. Then they gits a feller up
here to wash the car. My gosh, mister, the durned ole rattle-trap
ain't wuth a bucket o' water all told. You could wash from now till
next Christmas an' she wouldn't look any cleaner'n she does right now.
So I sends word in to Mr. Curtis that if she has to be washed, I'll
wash her. I don't want no dago splashin' water all over the barn floor
an' drawin' pay fer doin' it.
Pages:
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186