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Cooke, Grace MacGowan, 1863-1944

"The Power and the Glory"

I told him,
well, I could spare them, too. I told him I could hire in any other mill
in Cottonville befo' workin' time Monday--but I'm afeared I cain't."
Weak tears began to travel down her countenance. "I know I never will
make a fine hand like you, Johnnie," she said pathetically. "There ain't
a thing in the mill that I love to do--nary thing. I can tend a truck
patch or raise a field o' corn to beat anybody, and nobody cain't outdo
me with fowls; but the mill--"
She broke off and sat staring dully at the floor. Pap Himes had stumped
into the room during the latter part of this conversation.
"Lost your job, hey?" he inquired keenly.
Mandy nodded, with fearful eyes on his face.
"Well, you want to watch out and keep yo' board paid up here. The week
you cain't pay--out you go. I reckon I better trouble you to pay me in
advance, unless'n you've got some kind friend that'll stand for you."
Mandy's lips parted, but no sound came. The gaze of absolute terror with
which she followed the old man's waddling bulk as he went and seated
himself in front of the air-tight stove, was more than Johnnie
could endure.
"I'll stand for her board, Pap," she said quietly.
"Oh, you will, will ye?" Pap received her remark with disfavour. "Well,
a fool and his money don't stay together long. And who'll stand for you,
Johnnie Consadine? Yo' wages ain't a-goin' to pay for yo' livin' and
Mandy's too.


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