"You stir up that broom an' get through," replied Dave. "You're sweepin' later an' later every mornin'."
The sweeper sighed and went to work again, with a vigor so carefully figured that Dave was on the verge of speaking about dust several times, but thought better of it each time. Finishing his chores, Two-Spot shuffled out and threw a can at the recumbent figure over on the grass. It stirred and raised its head.
"I'll turn you inside out," it threatened.
"You couldn't turn a glove inside out," retorted Two-Spot.
Johnny grunted. He was silent for a moment, and then inquired, "What you doin', Feather Head?"
"Workin'."
"Then you can't do it," regretted Johnny.
"What?"
"Bring over a couple of cigars."