"
"Tink so, Bre'er Nimbus? Wal, now, I'shures ye dat yer couldn't
be wuss mistaken ef yer'd tried. On'y jes' dis mornin' Marse Sykes
got put out wid me jes de wus kind."
"How's dat, Berry?"
"Wal, yer see, I'se been a wukkin' fer him ebber sence de s'rrender
jes de same ez afore, only dat he pays me an' I owes him. He pays
me in sto' orders, an' it 'pears like I owes him mo' an' mo' ebbery
time we settles up. Didn't use ter be so when we lied de Bureau,
kase den Marse Sykes' 'count didn't use ter be so big; but dese
las' two year sence de Bureau done gone, bress God, I gits nex'
ter nuffin' ez we goes 'long, an' hez less 'n nuffin' atterwards."
"What wages d'ye git?" asked Nimbus.
"Marse Sykes, he sez I gits eight dollahs a month, myself, an'
Sally she gits fo'; an' den we hez tree pounds o' meat apiece an'
a peck o' meal, each on us, ebbery week. We could git along right
peart on dat--we an' de chillens, six on 'em--wid jes' a drop o'
coffee now an' agin, yer know; but yer see, Sally, she's a leetle
onsartin an' can't allus wuk, an' it 'pears like it takes all ob my
wuk ter pay fer her rations when she don't wuk. I dunno how 'tis,
but dat's de way Marse Sykes figgers it out,"
"Yer mus' buy a heap ob fine clo'es," said one of the bystanders.
"'Wall, ef I does, I leaves 'em ter home fer fear ob wearin' 'em
out, don't I?" said Berry, glancing at his dilapidated costume.
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