“All the time?”
“Yep.”
“Does your father make you?”
“Not exactly. I like to, I guess. Pa and me never have trouble. He’s easy-goin’—too easy-goin’, some folks say. He’s good to me, though. He’s only got one arm, and I have to do more’n I would if he wasn’t like that, I guess. That’s why they call me Wing o’ the Crow—an’ because I’m black. But I guess you’ve heard.”
“Oh, yes—lots about you. I’ve wanted you to come. I don’t see many girls out here. I thought it would be nice for both of us. I’m sorry you can’t ride with me. We could go up to Little Woman Butte, and—oh, everywhere.”
“I wisht I could, but I ain’t got the time. I got lots an’ lots to do every day.”
“What all?”
“Cookin’ an’ washin’ dishes an’ things like that, an’ stickin’ pigs or skinnin’ Jack an’ Ned—whatever’s to be done.”
“What is sticking pigs?”
“Settin’ slips. You know—loadin’ them little scrapers that ain’t got wheels.”