Instead, he eased over closer toward the
counter so that he was standing right in front of Papa.
"I ain't telled you the worst, Mister Jodie."
"Yeah?"
"This mornin' Mister Ward show me how he gwine t' start
makin' whiskey! Say I gotta help him! Say he gwine t' put in the
biggest still you ever seen. I's plain a-feared, Mister Jodie! He
say my chillens gwine to help chop and tote the wood!"
"He can't-"
"He say he shoot me 'tween the eyes iffen I tells hit, Mister
Jodie! But Lawd, Mister Jodie, I's got to think 'bout my
chilLens. Little Stray, too. He that pitiful one what's not mine.
I calls him my chicken coop stray boy."
"Chicken coop?"
"Yes, suh, Mister Jodie. Years back I finds that chile-one
freezin' mornin'-all scrooched up in my chicken house. He near
'bout starved to death and shakin' like a leaf-he can't talk. Me
and my wife, we warms him up and feeds him. And we tries to take
him back to his mammy. She don't want him. So we keeps him.
That's 'fore I comes to Mister Ward's place, and-"
"Papa! Look! Yonder comes somebody to buy stuff!" I dropped
my duster and ran to the door to get a better look at the man and
horse up the road.
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