Who gwyne to shovel for old Misto Higginson?

 

ALECK. I dno. Tain’t me, dat’s sho’. Yah-yah-yah!

 

HANK. Me, too. Yah-yah-yah! Man got to git up mighty early in de mawnin’ to git me to shovel by de job, mind I tell you.

 

ALECK. Dat’s me—every time! Ef a man want his snow shoveled by de job, let him go git somebody else; I ain’t gwyne rassle round rackin my bones outer jint on no job, now you hear me!

 

HANK. No, sir! When you wants me to shovel snow, s’I, you’ll pay me by de hour, s’I; en it’s thutty cents, too, s’I, en don’t you fogit it! Yah-yah-yah!

 

ALECK. Dat’s it, dat’s it! Dem’s my senterments, en I gwyne to stick to ’em tell I bust. By de job! De ideear! Hit make me tired, dat kind er talk do. Say, Hank, is you ben down to de meet’n, las’ night?

 

HANK. No, I hain’t ben to no meet’n; I ain’t hear noth’n ’bout it. I uz to de nigger ball.

 

ALECK. No—wuz you? Why, I uz dah, too; I hain’t seed you. Whah wuz you?

 

HANK. Oh, jist a sloshin aroun’, same as usual, en havin’ a time. I uz dah plum tell it bust up—goin’ on daylight. What’s de meet’n you talkin ’bout?

 

ALECK. Dey uz two. One wuz de Anerkis’.

HANK. Anerkis?

 

ALECK. Yes. En de yuther one uz de Socialis’.

 

HANK. What’s dem—Anerkis en Socialis’?

 

ALECK. Why, hain’t you hear ’bout ’em? Whah you ben?—’sleep? Why, Hank, dey’s all de talk.

 

HANK. Is dat so? Huccum I ain’t hear noth’n ’bout ’em? But dis is de fust time, I clah to goodness. What do dey do, Elleck?

 

ALECK. Why, dey—dey—well, dey talk.

 

HANK. Is dat all?

 

ALECK. All, says you.