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Look yere, Mos' Hawton: when I come on yer plantation I made up my min' ter sarve yer faithful ter wuck fer yer haud's I could ter strike ev'ry lick I could fer yer. When I hoed cawn an' pulled fodder I went 'head er all the han's on yer plantation. But when I went ter pick cotton I wusn't use ter it. I wuckt haud's I could, 'fo' day an' arter dark.
She waited for him, and they walked to the "quarter" together. "It's mighty haud, ain't it?" she said. "I believe he tol' a lie 'bout my baskit. Anyhow, I wuckt haud's I could ter-day. I can't pick no hunderd poun's uv the flimpsy stuff. He'll have ter cowhide me: I don't kere."
"I'll pick all I kin," said Alston: "I wuckt haud's I could ter-day." "Ef yer don't hush yer lyin' mouth I'll cut yer heart out." Alston went from the gin-loft, his blood tingling. On the sunning-scaffold he encountered Little Lizay. She had been listening had heard all that had passed between the two men. She went down the scaffold-steps, and Alston came soon after.
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