"
"Mister Ward tryin' to tell you somethin', Mister Jodie. The
man so drunk he can't talk."
"'Evening, Ward. What's that you say?"
"I say, 'Don't waste time!"
"I won't, Ward."
"Don't pay- Don't pay no mind to-to what Ned tells! It's
wastin' time!"
"Ward, where're you headed, such a hot evening?"
"John Mason's. Gotta get John to fix this damn gun. Hammer's
stickin'. If this Goddamn horse would just move on. Get up! You
sway-back fool, get up! Mister Jodie, you got any shells?"
"Yeah."
"I'll be back directly and buy some. Soon's John gets this
damn piece o' gun fixed."
"All right, Ward."
"I's glad he's gwine to Mister John's."
"I tell you, Ned, if he thinks John Mason's gonna sit right
down and work on that shotgun this evening, he's badly mistaken.
Mister Mason can mend anything, make anything. But he sure takes
his time. He never hurries 'cept when he's building a coffin. He
works like lightning on coffins."
"Yes, suh."
"Thank goodness, he's outta sight. Come on in, Ned. I'd
better measure up your oil.
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