OCR Text |
Show More Like Him. "Yo ast me 'bout Mis Johnsing an' her husban' las week, Miss Lou," said Matilda, looking up from her ironing. "Ah seen Mis Johnsing on de street las' night an' she says dey gone to boa'din'. Her husban' been out o' wo'k fo' de las' six monts an' dey cayn' 'ford to keep house no mo'. Ah t'ink it mighty foolish 'cos dey's sto'in dere fu'niture an' it cos'es dem fifty cents a mon't to keep it in de sto' house, an' ef dey don' pay it ebe'y mont' de money keep a-growin' an' a-growin' an'a-bur-owin' into dere bank 'count, jes' like a eatin' cancer. Ah tol' Mis Johnsing dat, an Ah say w'y don' she put her husban' to wo'k. He right able body man. 'Hitch de reins to de mule,' Ah say, an' don' yo' wo'k yo' finger nails to de quick fo' dat niggah.' But she say he can' fin' no wo'k he like, dough he out all day an' somet'm's till 12 o'clock at night a-lookin'. Ah reckon he don' like no wo'k he can fin', dat's w'ot's de mat-tan." |