“Mamma,” she cried, “I know where Willie is! Genesis told me, 'cause he saw him, an' he talked to him while he was doin' it.”
“Doing what? Where?”
“Mamma, listen! What you think Willie's doin'? I bet you can't g—”
“Jane!” Mrs Baxter spoke sharply. “Tell me what Genesis said, at once.”
“Yes'm. Willie's sittin' in a lumber-yard that Genesis comes by on his way from over on the avynoo where all the colored people live—an' he's countin' knot-holes in shingles.”
“He is WHAT?”
“Yes'm. Genesis knows all about it, because he was thinkin' of doin' it himself, only he says it would be too slow. This is the way it is, mamma. Listen, mamma, because this is just exackly the way it is. Well, this lumber-yard man got into some sort of a fuss because he bought millions an' millions of shingles, mamma, that had too many knots in, an' the man don't want to pay for 'em, or else the store where he bought 'em won't take 'em back, an' they got to prove how many shingles are bad shingles, or somep'm, an' anyway, mamma, that's what Willie's doin'. Every time he comes to a bad shingle, mamma, he puts it somewheres else, or somep'm like that, mamma, an' every time he's put a thousand bad shingles in this other place they give him six cents. He gets the six cents to keep, mamma—an' that's what he's been doin' all day!”
“Good gracious!”
“Oh, but that's nothing, mamma—just you wait till you hear the rest. THAT part of it isn't anything a TALL, mamma! You wouldn't hardly notice that part of it if you knew the other part of it, mamma. Why, that isn't ANYTHING!” Jane made demonstrations of scorn for the insignificant information already imparted.
“Jane!”